elflock - Hello Poetry

I catch a glimpse of it the first time very unexpectedly. Something distracts me from your shiny smile and i only notice a small little sparkle. I watch you when you are beaten down and i see you struggle, but i never see you pull it out. It is lodged quite deep, i see it one day when you're asleep, not vulnerable. You're just yourself when you're asleep. One day i get a hold of it somehow. I know it hurts you, i ask if i should pull it out. You say it's not time yet. I ask you why. You tell me that the wound is still fresh. I frown, let me make it better, I say. 'You are.' Over time, I feel it loosening up. When you get the good shivers while i stroke your neck, i watch it almost slide off. You don't notice it because I think you don't want to. A few days later i see you watching your back in the mirror. The knife is gone. You smile a weak smile. You're about to say something but you stop, i know what it is. You would have said 'i weirdly miss it'. You keep it on the bedside a few days. It doesn't sit right with me, but it has to be done, for you. A few fays later you drive me far away, we find a corner and bury it. We watch the last of it- steel, covered in blood, glint for the last time as we cover it with the last bit of earth. You hold my hand tightly. We come home in silence. You cover me in a protective way. I tell you I'm sorry you went through that and i sob. You stroke my neck, in a way that gives me the good shivers. You tell me you wanted to do this for so long. But as much as it was hurting, you wished for it to be that way. You had to carry the pain till it became dull otherwise, you said, the **** already had a sharp knife i didn't want to make it deeper by holding a grudge. Why should i suffer alone, i used to think, you said. But you look at me and say i think all a wound needs is some time to heal and some kindness. You say this is forgiveness, thanks for letting me discover it, i realise that what hurt me had to be discarded. Pain internalised is grief accomodated. You trail a dimpled finger down my spine and poke at a tender spot, i wince, looks like i stopped at the right time you say.

0

Mar 25, 2024

Mar 25, 2024 at 3:48 PM UTC

pains

I catch a glimpse of it the first time very unexpectedly. Something distracts me from your shiny smile and i only notice a small little sparkle. I watch you when you are beaten down and i see you struggle, but i never see you pull it out. It is lodged quite deep, i see it one day when you're asleep, not vulnerable. You're just yourself when you're asleep. One day i get a hold of it somehow. I know it hurts you, i ask if i should pull it out. You say it's not time yet. I ask you why. You tell me that the wound is still fresh. I frown, let me make it better, I say. 'You are.' Over time, I feel it loosening up. When you get the good shivers while i stroke your neck, i watch it almost slide off. You don't notice it because I think you don't want to. A few days later i see you watching your back in the mirror. The knife is gone. You smile a weak smile. You're about to say something but you stop, i know what it is. You would have said 'i weirdly miss it'. You keep it on the bedside a few days. It doesn't sit right with me, but it has to be done, for you. A few fays later you drive me far away, we find a corner and bury it. We watch the last of it- steel, covered in blood, glint for the last time as we cover it with the last bit of earth. You hold my hand tightly. We come home in silence. You cover me in a protective way. I tell you I'm sorry you went through that and i sob. You stroke my neck, in a way that gives me the good shivers. You tell me you wanted to do this for so long. But as much as it was hurting, you wished for it to be that way. You had to carry the pain till it became dull otherwise, you said, the **** already had a sharp knife i didn't want to make it deeper by holding a grudge. Why should i suffer alone, i used to think, you said. But you look at me and say i think all a wound needs is some time to heal and some kindness. You say this is forgiveness, thanks for letting me discover it, i realise that what hurt me had to be discarded. Pain internalised is grief accomodated. You trail a dimpled finger down my spine and poke at a tender spot, i wince, looks like i stopped at the right time you say.

12

this one rule is what the society is built on. this one simple thing, so innocent and permanent, how can it hurt anyone? how can it hurt you? no, the rule is not for just a few, it is a rule for all. yes, you can go against the rule. and yes, you will not be considered yourself if you do not follow it. wrap yourself in farce to follow this rule. bend, twist and become a circus monkey to follow this rule. buy from the moneymakers- rights, will, choice and freedom. for the poor- here is a candle lit in the dark of the night for you. it represents hope. the rule rules, it is simple as that. and they command, and you live as they lay the beautiful necklace around your neck- each rule sewed to form it- bead by bead. till it ties around so heavily that you beg to rather be put in shackles.

0

Dec 8, 2023

Dec 8, 2023 at 12:39 PM UTC

rules

this one rule is what the society is built on. this one simple thing, so innocent and permanent, how can it hurt anyone? how can it hurt you? no, the rule is not for just a few, it is a rule for all. yes, you can go against the rule. and yes, you will not be considered yourself if you do not follow it. wrap yourself in farce to follow this rule. bend, twist and become a circus monkey to follow this rule. buy from the moneymakers- rights, will, choice and freedom. for the poor- here is a candle lit in the dark of the night for you. it represents hope. the rule rules, it is simple as that. and they command, and you live as they lay the beautiful necklace around your neck- each rule sewed to form it- bead by bead. till it ties around so heavily that you beg to rather be put in shackles.

10

Desire and Dream are cousins. The ones that sometimes contact each other about things they've forgotten but end up reminiscing together for hours. One forgets the other's birthday but the other always keeps their favourite snacks in the fridge in case they come over. One is more responsible and the other leans on them a bit more than they want to. But both are fierce in the way they feel about each other. "I'm not saying you're wrong," says Desire. "It's my job to be impossible at times," Dream replies. They recognise generational sorrows and don't ask twice. They hope a lot, almost resembling the other when they daydream. And when they look at shooting stars, they wish the other well each time. Pain and Passion are lovers. None of them can be strong for the other. But they bear the burdens together surprisingly well. When one outweighs the other, they will always take it upon themselves to disprove how the other is in worse shape. Onlookers find it funny. They take it way too seriously. They might end up hurting each other. But they patch themselves up pretty quickly, and without the other's help. They are very independent that way. In tough times and in easy times they will always await for the other with open arms. And wait, and wait, and wait some more. Till one of them gives up. Kindness and Envy are neighbours. They joke about the grass being greener. When both their jasmines are dying. One of them keeps a plant hidden inside. The other sprinkles water over the fence. During rains, they pick up the wet newspaper from the others pathway and push it all the way into the porch to save what's left of it. One does not warn the other about the wasp nest in their attic window. The other does not complain about the extra bright Christmas lights that pour into their bedroom window. They smile at each other with pursed lips. They don't laugh when the other skids and falls while shoveling snow.

0

Oct 26, 2022

Oct 26, 2022 at 2:05 PM UTC

Propinquity

Desire and Dream are cousins. The ones that sometimes contact each other about things they've forgotten but end up reminiscing together for hours. One forgets the other's birthday but the other always keeps their favourite snacks in the fridge in case they come over. One is more responsible and the other leans on them a bit more than they want to. But both are fierce in the way they feel about each other. "I'm not saying you're wrong," says Desire. "It's my job to be impossible at times," Dream replies. They recognise generational sorrows and don't ask twice. They hope a lot, almost resembling the other when they daydream. And when they look at shooting stars, they wish the other well each time. Pain and Passion are lovers. None of them can be strong for the other. But they bear the burdens together surprisingly well. When one outweighs the other, they will always take it upon themselves to disprove how the other is in worse shape. Onlookers find it funny. They take it way too seriously. They might end up hurting each other. But they patch themselves up pretty quickly, and without the other's help. They are very independent that way. In tough times and in easy times they will always await for the other with open arms. And wait, and wait, and wait some more. Till one of them gives up. Kindness and Envy are neighbours. They joke about the grass being greener. When both their jasmines are dying. One of them keeps a plant hidden inside. The other sprinkles water over the fence. During rains, they pick up the wet newspaper from the others pathway and push it all the way into the porch to save what's left of it. One does not warn the other about the wasp nest in their attic window. The other does not complain about the extra bright Christmas lights that pour into their bedroom window. They smile at each other with pursed lips. They don't laugh when the other skids and falls while shoveling snow.

6

It's winter and she tuts at my chapped lips. Dry cheeks don't need to be kissed. Soaked almonds and milk for breakfast. Everything on my plate looks the same through tearful eyes. She tells me I look pretty when I wear frill frocks. The flight of a bird is not groundbreaking. Education is strictly all or nothing. I need a better smile and a fuller body. With eyes too big for a face like that, I am not supposed to glare. She tells me that my feet look precious. Nothing about grief is sad. I need a narrower outlook to be strong in life. Friends are not family and only family forgets birthdays. Missing socks and broken promises are replaced with new ones. The tongue must taste sweet lies and not talk back. She tells me I remind her of butterflies. But I speak with purpose so that my lips don't chap. My smile is accompanied by humble crows feet. My body twists and turns to take her shape. I don't let things roll on my tongue too long to know their taste. I just sit and think how far down do leaves bend before falling off the plant? She tells me I never really did much.

0

Nov 11, 2021

Nov 11, 2021 at 8:54 AM UTC

things a mother can say

It's winter and she tuts at my chapped lips. Dry cheeks don't need to be kissed. Soaked almonds and milk for breakfast. Everything on my plate looks the same through tearful eyes. She tells me I look pretty when I wear frill frocks. The flight of a bird is not groundbreaking. Education is strictly all or nothing. I need a better smile and a fuller body. With eyes too big for a face like that, I am not supposed to glare. She tells me that my feet look precious. Nothing about grief is sad. I need a narrower outlook to be strong in life. Friends are not family and only family forgets birthdays. Missing socks and broken promises are replaced with new ones. The tongue must taste sweet lies and not talk back. She tells me I remind her of butterflies. But I speak with purpose so that my lips don't chap. My smile is accompanied by humble crows feet. My body twists and turns to take her shape. I don't let things roll on my tongue too long to know their taste. I just sit and think how far down do leaves bend before falling off the plant? She tells me I never really did much.

22

I grew up in the days I have forgotten. I breathed in the scent of flowers to let something beautiful take root inside me. The sun didn't enter my body, the thorns pricked on my insides. One knot formed in my throat, I pushed it down. When my fingers wrapped around sticky lollies I coughed from the sweetness but licked my fingers clean. I felt careless when I walked around and bothersome when I laid down. Flat on my stomach, another knot in my chest. I chased nothing particular in the sky with my eyes the wispy remains of a yesterday haunt me, the anticipation of a tomorrow making my eyes heavy. I look at my hands, fingers crossed, one more knot. Being hurtful and gruesome while I drown in another pour. Sorrow, joy, beauty and dirt stain the mirror I stare into. Another knot like a neat bow, another moment when I am too unscathed to be me.

0

Nov 8, 2021

Nov 8, 2021 at 2:25 AM UTC

me

I grew up in the days I have forgotten. I breathed in the scent of flowers to let something beautiful take root inside me. The sun didn't enter my body, the thorns pricked on my insides. One knot formed in my throat, I pushed it down. When my fingers wrapped around sticky lollies I coughed from the sweetness but licked my fingers clean. I felt careless when I walked around and bothersome when I laid down. Flat on my stomach, another knot in my chest. I chased nothing particular in the sky with my eyes the wispy remains of a yesterday haunt me, the anticipation of a tomorrow making my eyes heavy. I look at my hands, fingers crossed, one more knot. Being hurtful and gruesome while I drown in another pour. Sorrow, joy, beauty and dirt stain the mirror I stare into. Another knot like a neat bow, another moment when I am too unscathed to be me.

15

I wish to drink from the goblet in which the blood of my crime resides. just to taste the melancholy and feel it burn down my throat. no, I don't wonder what the pure feel as I ****** my thoughts and desires. I just want to gobble up the wispy tentacles rising from your God's shrine. I'll hold back your hair while you ***** the poison. and watch you lick the back of stamps as you send a digressed prayer his way. I'll clasp my hands I'll bow down till I crack my spine. I'll do it all. with my lips pressed to my goblet.

0

Jun 22, 2021

Jun 22, 2021 at 12:42 AM UTC

Untitled

I wish to drink from the goblet in which the blood of my crime resides. just to taste the melancholy and feel it burn down my throat. no, I don't wonder what the pure feel as I ****** my thoughts and desires. I just want to gobble up the wispy tentacles rising from your God's shrine. I'll hold back your hair while you ***** the poison. and watch you lick the back of stamps as you send a digressed prayer his way. I'll clasp my hands I'll bow down till I crack my spine. I'll do it all. with my lips pressed to my goblet.

16

The onset of winter and the peachiness of the sun i kick the grass and come up with moist feet stuck with dirt and snails. In moments like now when I'm warm away from the noise (or the noise away from me) i forget about the loves that never existed the ones I've made up i smile and cross my arms. On days like these i worry I'll lose my loneliness or however I cope with it i can make myself warm and rub my palms together. I can also get cold and stay that way as they put a shroud over me.

0

Oct 28, 2020

Oct 28, 2020 at 12:25 AM UTC

Days

The onset of winter and the peachiness of the sun i kick the grass and come up with moist feet stuck with dirt and snails. In moments like now when I'm warm away from the noise (or the noise away from me) i forget about the loves that never existed the ones I've made up i smile and cross my arms. On days like these i worry I'll lose my loneliness or however I cope with it i can make myself warm and rub my palms together. I can also get cold and stay that way as they put a shroud over me.

17

A bunch of sunflowers, a batch of pink tulips A bush of roses and the oppressive jasmine. I've kept them in the sun, like you said. I worry often, they seem to wilt and die Without even a little blossom. It's the prime of spring, the butterflies forsake my garden. The once lush leaves are now yellow and muddy, the earth underneath fuzzy and dry. They stay still, even though I water them everyday with your love. A large gush of wind brought along a violent thunderstorm. I stood there covering the cadaver with my hands. The yellow leaves drenched with water drops. My teeth clattered and my toes were cold. I don't know how, darling but I watched your love catch fire even under a downpour of the heaviest rain.

0

Aug 7, 2020

Aug 7, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC

Fire

A bunch of sunflowers, a batch of pink tulips A bush of roses and the oppressive jasmine. I've kept them in the sun, like you said. I worry often, they seem to wilt and die Without even a little blossom. It's the prime of spring, the butterflies forsake my garden. The once lush leaves are now yellow and muddy, the earth underneath fuzzy and dry. They stay still, even though I water them everyday with your love. A large gush of wind brought along a violent thunderstorm. I stood there covering the cadaver with my hands. The yellow leaves drenched with water drops. My teeth clattered and my toes were cold. I don't know how, darling but I watched your love catch fire even under a downpour of the heaviest rain.

11

what will you call me when the last version of me dies. will my name still taste the same when it falls from your lips or will i be like vapour suspended on car windows on a rainy day. will my head still hold upright when you come and ask me to smile. i'll look at mirrors and laugh when they tell me i'm me. can you even hold hands with all things lost and put together. i'll glow and sparkle for a few more minutes. **** me off if it gets too bright.

0

Jul 14, 2020

Jul 14, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC

Gone

what will you call me when the last version of me dies. will my name still taste the same when it falls from your lips or will i be like vapour suspended on car windows on a rainy day. will my head still hold upright when you come and ask me to smile. i'll look at mirrors and laugh when they tell me i'm me. can you even hold hands with all things lost and put together. i'll glow and sparkle for a few more minutes. **** me off if it gets too bright.

24

i sit and deconstruct the night sky. one star at a time, i pull them and place them on my arms and braid them into my hair. i feel the moon looking at me with envy. i could peel my skin off to nestle them beneath it, and maybe ichor will reside in my veins. the clouds are wispy and mysterious they shroud something but they wither at my touch. the moon hangs low as i grab it and swing my legs on either side of the sleek crescent. i sit there astride the celestial and i can't believe that the earth will shift and i'll find myself on the breakfast table buttering a toast and waiting for stars to be bright enough to shine during gloomy days.

0

Jul 14, 2020

Jul 14, 2020 at 2:15 AM UTC

Dreamer

i sit and deconstruct the night sky. one star at a time, i pull them and place them on my arms and braid them into my hair. i feel the moon looking at me with envy. i could peel my skin off to nestle them beneath it, and maybe ichor will reside in my veins. the clouds are wispy and mysterious they shroud something but they wither at my touch. the moon hangs low as i grab it and swing my legs on either side of the sleek crescent. i sit there astride the celestial and i can't believe that the earth will shift and i'll find myself on the breakfast table buttering a toast and waiting for stars to be bright enough to shine during gloomy days.

25