blxckholes - Hello Poetry

you tell me that when you think of me, you think "good person." is that so? i want to tell you how much i appreciate the sentiments or how you make me feel just a little less rotten but the words stay hostage inside my mouth. i want to be good. i want to be kind, i want to be holy, sacred. i want to i want to. but this tenderness was forged in the fire and the fire is all it will ever know.

0

Jan 25, 2023

Jan 25, 2023 at 7:54 PM UTC

in the fire

you tell me that when you think of me, you think "good person." is that so? i want to tell you how much i appreciate the sentiments or how you make me feel just a little less rotten but the words stay hostage inside my mouth. i want to be good. i want to be kind, i want to be holy, sacred. i want to i want to. but this tenderness was forged in the fire and the fire is all it will ever know.

21

i've been seeing ghosts for as long as i can remember now. they sit idly on my bed, making small talk with the skeletons who play poker on my closet floor. they call. flush, straight, empty hands as the cards fall through the gaps between their fingers. together they brush worries out of my hair, one by one. they have nothing else to do, and neither do i. as strands of my hair are placed gently behind my ear. they speak to me, but mostly among themselves. "i can't tell you when it gets better, kid. i can't tell you if it ever does."

0

Jan 24, 2018

Jan 24, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC

fold

i've been seeing ghosts for as long as i can remember now. they sit idly on my bed, making small talk with the skeletons who play poker on my closet floor. they call. flush, straight, empty hands as the cards fall through the gaps between their fingers. together they brush worries out of my hair, one by one. they have nothing else to do, and neither do i. as strands of my hair are placed gently behind my ear. they speak to me, but mostly among themselves. "i can't tell you when it gets better, kid. i can't tell you if it ever does."

19

when i was a child and went out during the rain, my father would tell me "you ain't sugar, child. who said you gon' melt?" so i stopped dipping my toes in pool water and started jumping off bridges. sometimes i would swim in fountains, looking for kindness, but i guess people eventually realized their cash wasn't worth their buck. that no god in the sky was gonna give you somethin' good for five cents. so lemme tell you, sugar. you wanna know the look the bank gave me when i asked for my paycheck in dimes? that "you gotta be kidding me" look, that "wait.. you're serious?" look. disbelief like no other. that same look i give you when you step foot in the rain, and i say "hey, careful now. sugar likes to melt in this weather."

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Jan 10, 2018

Jan 10, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC

haze

when i was a child and went out during the rain, my father would tell me "you ain't sugar, child. who said you gon' melt?" so i stopped dipping my toes in pool water and started jumping off bridges. sometimes i would swim in fountains, looking for kindness, but i guess people eventually realized their cash wasn't worth their buck. that no god in the sky was gonna give you somethin' good for five cents. so lemme tell you, sugar. you wanna know the look the bank gave me when i asked for my paycheck in dimes? that "you gotta be kidding me" look, that "wait.. you're serious?" look. disbelief like no other. that same look i give you when you step foot in the rain, and i say "hey, careful now. sugar likes to melt in this weather."

22

i know a man who has been radiating warmth since the day we met-- i know this because i've seen it spill out of his chest, gutted, like sunlight through curtains. like a massacre that speaks softly. i've watched that light land on my skin so timidly, almost without notice. i've felt it tread gently across my ribcage and my heart stop beating whenever it got close. to give in to man is to ask for mercy; a different kind of surrender. and mercy. that man has had my heart ever since.

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Jan 4, 2018

Jan 4, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC

giving in

i know a man who has been radiating warmth since the day we met-- i know this because i've seen it spill out of his chest, gutted, like sunlight through curtains. like a massacre that speaks softly. i've watched that light land on my skin so timidly, almost without notice. i've felt it tread gently across my ribcage and my heart stop beating whenever it got close. to give in to man is to ask for mercy; a different kind of surrender. and mercy. that man has had my heart ever since.

21

i want to come home for the holidays. forget the presents, forget the socks and how many ornaments have kissed the hardwood-- i need somebody to tell me that staying in one piece is overrated anyways. i don't want to come home to boisterous guests pushing shoulders and swallowing knives as party tricks, no. i don't want that. instead, i'd like to come home to a home for once. brick and mortar, selfishly cemented. no gift wrapped apologies, no socks, no guests, just us.

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Dec 24, 2017

Dec 24, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC

i forgot how this one goes but

i want to come home for the holidays. forget the presents, forget the socks and how many ornaments have kissed the hardwood-- i need somebody to tell me that staying in one piece is overrated anyways. i don't want to come home to boisterous guests pushing shoulders and swallowing knives as party tricks, no. i don't want that. instead, i'd like to come home to a home for once. brick and mortar, selfishly cemented. no gift wrapped apologies, no socks, no guests, just us.

20

YOU NEEDED THAT COMFORT DIDN'T YOU HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP UNDER ALL THESE OVERPASSES WHEN THE CARS DON'T RUN LIKE THAT AROUND HERE TELL ME HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE EVERYTHING YOU SAY WITH A GRAIN OF SALT WHEN I'M TOO HOPEFUL FOR THAT **** WE BOTH KNOW IT GETS DANGEROUS I HAVEN'T BEEN AROUND FOR HUNDREDS OR THOUSANDS OF YEARS BUT I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT "STORAGE" AND MEMORIES THAT LIVE PACKED AWAY IN THE ATTIC AND ON GOD YOU CAN'T BLOW DUST OFF THIS ONE LIKE THE REST

0

Aug 7, 2017

Aug 7, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC

run-on

YOU NEEDED THAT COMFORT DIDN'T YOU HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP UNDER ALL THESE OVERPASSES WHEN THE CARS DON'T RUN LIKE THAT AROUND HERE TELL ME HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE EVERYTHING YOU SAY WITH A GRAIN OF SALT WHEN I'M TOO HOPEFUL FOR THAT **** WE BOTH KNOW IT GETS DANGEROUS I HAVEN'T BEEN AROUND FOR HUNDREDS OR THOUSANDS OF YEARS BUT I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT "STORAGE" AND MEMORIES THAT LIVE PACKED AWAY IN THE ATTIC AND ON GOD YOU CAN'T BLOW DUST OFF THIS ONE LIKE THE REST

1

how many girls do you know that can dance to "maybe" and "sometimes"? boy. boy, who is only missing you when he is in the mood for something different. a change of heart. i know you're hungry, so here's a side order of drunk calls and spilled "i'm busy"s for your squandered appetite. enjoy the meal.

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Jul 24, 2017

Jul 24, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC

bon appetite

how many girls do you know that can dance to "maybe" and "sometimes"? boy. boy, who is only missing you when he is in the mood for something different. a change of heart. i know you're hungry, so here's a side order of drunk calls and spilled "i'm busy"s for your squandered appetite. enjoy the meal.

12

i got something you aren't ready to hear just yet. it comes in ash and that's the only way i know how to present it. my hands stay covered in midnight and you sleep through dawn. you sleep and sleep while i lose track of time. has it been four hours now or eight? this lost longing. this familiar ache. selective amnesia? yeah. yeah, that sounds about right. don't call it a "game," call it "waiting patiently until the roof caves in. until we become something not you, not even i can recognize."

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Jul 23, 2017

Jul 23, 2017 at 7:21 PM UTC

la luna

i got something you aren't ready to hear just yet. it comes in ash and that's the only way i know how to present it. my hands stay covered in midnight and you sleep through dawn. you sleep and sleep while i lose track of time. has it been four hours now or eight? this lost longing. this familiar ache. selective amnesia? yeah. yeah, that sounds about right. don't call it a "game," call it "waiting patiently until the roof caves in. until we become something not you, not even i can recognize."

19

i lose my train of thought often. something always catches me off-guard & this time i'm wondering if the walls of your room are a peach-tan or an i'm-drowning-tonight-and-there's- nothing-you-can-do-to-stop-me-navy. i keep the thought at arm's length so it doesn't get too close for comfort. who knows what it's capable of.

0

Jul 11, 2017

Jul 11, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC

dreams that bite back

i lose my train of thought often. something always catches me off-guard & this time i'm wondering if the walls of your room are a peach-tan or an i'm-drowning-tonight-and-there's- nothing-you-can-do-to-stop-me-navy. i keep the thought at arm's length so it doesn't get too close for comfort. who knows what it's capable of.

10

let's talk about curiosity. let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough? i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. because here it is:

0

Sep 18, 2016

Sep 18, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC

explanation kills art

let's talk about curiosity. let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough? i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. because here it is:

1