glassea - Hello Poetry

where i am, there aren't many people who understand the clean start you bring. if i could i would pluck you from the sky, walk you through my life. say, "this is where i saw you first. this is where i turned my prayers to you instead of god." say, "this is where i stared at the pale insides of my wrists before i matched our glows." say, "this is where i realized you are the closest i will ever get to a culture i'll never know." if i could i would polish you to perfection and push you to the heavens. i'd cover you with my mother's silk scarves, drop them one by one. dear moon, old friend; thank you for this hard reboot. i'll pay you in red envelopes the next time we meet.

0

Feb 16, 2018

Feb 16, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC

glassea

to the moon, on lunar new year

where i am, there aren't many people who understand the clean start you bring. if i could i would pluck you from the sky, walk you through my life. say, "this is where i saw you first. this is where i turned my prayers to you instead of god." say, "this is where i stared at the pale insides of my wrists before i matched our glows." say, "this is where i realized you are the closest i will ever get to a culture i'll never know." if i could i would polish you to perfection and push you to the heavens. i'd cover you with my mother's silk scarves, drop them one by one. dear moon, old friend; thank you for this hard reboot. i'll pay you in red envelopes the next time we meet.

25

*the roots of my people are winding, twisting, intricate art in themselves. our skin— a million shades of rain-soaked and sun-kissed. our bodies meld with our bamboo, stretching our fingers endlessly upwards— our plum blossoms, resilient through sheets of snow— our willows, soft and airy, swaying in perfect rhythm with the wind our land breathes. we are born of nature— our voices sharp and nimble; oxygen leaves our lungs and carves peaks in the sky, pierces clouds like the huangshan— we move like no other blood, fast and flying, fleet-footed, ever-flowing. the roots of my people are painted in calligraphy pens and ink, and it runs through each of us, as we stand tall, serene, in symbolic tradition, just like our trees.*

0

glassea

Dec 6, 2017

Dec 6, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC

eaulilies

lineage

*the roots of my people are winding, twisting, intricate art in themselves. our skin— a million shades of rain-soaked and sun-kissed. our bodies meld with our bamboo, stretching our fingers endlessly upwards— our plum blossoms, resilient through sheets of snow— our willows, soft and airy, swaying in perfect rhythm with the wind our land breathes. we are born of nature— our voices sharp and nimble; oxygen leaves our lungs and carves peaks in the sky, pierces clouds like the huangshan— we move like no other blood, fast and flying, fleet-footed, ever-flowing. the roots of my people are painted in calligraphy pens and ink, and it runs through each of us, as we stand tall, serene, in symbolic tradition, just like our trees.*

36

i apologise, i'm well aware it's illegal to use pictures of people without their permission, but your image wanders through my fantasies with no regard for roadblocks or boundaries, and frankly, i'm tired of throwing photographs away.

0

glassea

Nov 16, 2017

Nov 16, 2017 at 10:51 PM UTC

belbere

in this dark room

i apologise, i'm well aware it's illegal to use pictures of people without their permission, but your image wanders through my fantasies with no regard for roadblocks or boundaries, and frankly, i'm tired of throwing photographs away.

13

i fell in love through song, through a girl like me loving a girl like you. i fell in love not in a heartbeat, not in a breath. these things take time. i take time. i fell in love through a song i played on repeat three days ago. i fell in love with you through words i cannot hear.

0

Jul 29, 2017

Jul 29, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC

glassea

learning to love a girl

i fell in love through song, through a girl like me loving a girl like you. i fell in love not in a heartbeat, not in a breath. these things take time. i take time. i fell in love through a song i played on repeat three days ago. i fell in love with you through words i cannot hear.

11

say cowboy. say hot dog. say ice cream. say baseball. see, the step into the sound booth is an awkward height, about 6 inches off the ground, and i find myself raised on a pedestal, sealed in for you to inspect, watching you and an audiologist through a glass window, watching you decide my future as you face away from me so i cannot read your lips and you cannot see me shouting stop. say airplane, say sidewalk, say you might hear static in your right ear but i know i will only hear a tone, an electronic beep going on and on and on say conducive hearing loss say sensoneurial damage say surgery say it might be permanent this time, like it hasn't been permanent for the last ten years, say there's a new technique say we can fix this, say negative impact on social life, say poor classroom performance, say we just want what's best for you, say try hearing aids try CIs try cued speech, say you need to be fixed. it's been a decade since i first entered that sound booth, noises not echoing off these walls that take a little more from me with every test. it's been a decade since my hearing slipped away and i am done mourning it but i don't think you are. persistence is a valuable trait but stop trying, stop putting me under with an x on my right cheek so the surgeons know how to lay me out on the operating table, stop refusing to turn on the captions because i need the practice, stop talking to me without tapping me first, stop screaming at me when i mishear. i am done mourning my hearing and i don't know if i ever grieved in the first place but you are still stuck in the stage of denial, hoping against hope for some ******* miracle. i don't want a miracle, i don't want anything god can give me because i am not lacking, i am whole, i already am the miracle you were looking for and i don't need to be fixed. but you don’t believe that, do you? so the audiologist can open the heavy soundproof door but i am still trapped inside this box, the walls swallowing my words as you decide my future for me because no one wants to listen to those who cannot hear. say stop sign, say hairbrush, say push the button when you hear the beep and i hold it down with my thumb, gripping the clicker like the handle of a gun until you tell me to let go. but i hear deserts stretching away from me, flat sci-fi dreamscapes where there is only one sound and i can hear it too. say tinnitus, say psychosomatic because you don't believe that i might hear infinity where you tell me i shouldn't. say hole in the eardrum say the surgery might have accelerated the deterioration, say we can try again but i gave up ten years ago and i think you should too, and i'm here in this sound booth screaming for you to stop but you will not look at me, will not even attempt communication. no one wants to listen to those who cannot hear.

0

Jul 9, 2017

Jul 9, 2017 at 1:05 PM UTC

glassea

the audiologist's waiting room

say cowboy. say hot dog. say ice cream. say baseball. see, the step into the sound booth is an awkward height, about 6 inches off the ground, and i find myself raised on a pedestal, sealed in for you to inspect, watching you and an audiologist through a glass window, watching you decide my future as you face away from me so i cannot read your lips and you cannot see me shouting stop. say airplane, say sidewalk, say you might hear static in your right ear but i know i will only hear a tone, an electronic beep going on and on and on say conducive hearing loss say sensoneurial damage say surgery say it might be permanent this time, like it hasn't been permanent for the last ten years, say there's a new technique say we can fix this, say negative impact on social life, say poor classroom performance, say we just want what's best for you, say try hearing aids try CIs try cued speech, say you need to be fixed. it's been a decade since i first entered that sound booth, noises not echoing off these walls that take a little more from me with every test. it's been a decade since my hearing slipped away and i am done mourning it but i don't think you are. persistence is a valuable trait but stop trying, stop putting me under with an x on my right cheek so the surgeons know how to lay me out on the operating table, stop refusing to turn on the captions because i need the practice, stop talking to me without tapping me first, stop screaming at me when i mishear. i am done mourning my hearing and i don't know if i ever grieved in the first place but you are still stuck in the stage of denial, hoping against hope for some ******* miracle. i don't want a miracle, i don't want anything god can give me because i am not lacking, i am whole, i already am the miracle you were looking for and i don't need to be fixed. but you don’t believe that, do you? so the audiologist can open the heavy soundproof door but i am still trapped inside this box, the walls swallowing my words as you decide my future for me because no one wants to listen to those who cannot hear. say stop sign, say hairbrush, say push the button when you hear the beep and i hold it down with my thumb, gripping the clicker like the handle of a gun until you tell me to let go. but i hear deserts stretching away from me, flat sci-fi dreamscapes where there is only one sound and i can hear it too. say tinnitus, say psychosomatic because you don't believe that i might hear infinity where you tell me i shouldn't. say hole in the eardrum say the surgery might have accelerated the deterioration, say we can try again but i gave up ten years ago and i think you should too, and i'm here in this sound booth screaming for you to stop but you will not look at me, will not even attempt communication. no one wants to listen to those who cannot hear.

60

we were built so fragile just about to fall but look at how we fight look how we stand tall human bodies weren't made to sustain but we conquered it, we broke it we bared the pain from typhoid to bad falls a deep cough, mental stress after all we are susceptible to you'd think there'd be nothing left but we have survived plagues we have fought through the wars airplanes were built to sore the skies submarines to explore the waters heart break can **** you (trust me, i'd know) but 7 billion broken hearts and we still don't let the hurt show we walk into work we raise our children we do what needs to be done even when we're broken within we help one another empathize with anothers pain put aside our worries for theirs even when there's nothing to gain kindness, solidarity contribution, charity we are the children of a nation that survived when the volcanoes erupted when the ground shook when our homes were consumed by fire and all we could do was look when the floods took our babies and the tornadoes took our homes we rebuilt from ground up and prayed for our children's souls prayer and endurance might and fight we have pushed through the darkness without the promise of light ask me and i'll tell you how my dad was so sick he was left for dead ask me and i'll tell you how my mom sat every moment by his bed ask me and i'll tell you how many nights i slept well ask me and i'll tell you how my mom never let us find out he was ill ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when he was well ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when got up and left ask me and i'll tell you i've seen hurt, i've seen pain ask me and i'll tell you i've seen guilt and i've seen shame ask me and i'll tell you the stories of my grandparents during the war ask me and i'll tell you that they still smile, even though they remember the horror ask me and i'll tell you how my aunt held her 12 day old daughter (her name was nour) ask me and i'll tell you how she kissed her forehead before laying her in her grave ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for humans to break ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for their worlds to shake but ask me and i'll tell you how much strength we have shown even in the depths of darkness we still have hope. we are the children of a nation that survived.

0

glassea

Dec 25, 2016

Dec 25, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC

the sun and moon collided, burning desperate tragedies. but i think you and i might have been the real casualties.

0

Nov 29, 2016

Nov 29, 2016 at 12:41 AM UTC

glassea

war, away from the battlefield

the sun and moon collided, burning desperate tragedies. but i think you and i might have been the real casualties.

4

knowledge is power, but the truth is terrible and great.

0

Jun 21, 2016

Jun 21, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC

glassea

oracle

knowledge is power, but the truth is terrible and great.

2

she says my heart is too big it barely fits i say i can feel the veins slithering down my wrists i was born with walls so thick no human eye could see where i began and where i ended i could feel my heart hammering away at my ribcage it wanted to get out when they tore down the walls and brought me into this world they didn’t cut deep enough she talks in pulses and palpitations and every time my heart flutters she loses her breath i tried to tear the walls down myself i couldn’t cut deep enough she says something a thump a thump thump but my heart is too big it’s the only thing i hear the only thing i know there’s not enough room for two i can feel my veins overflowing i can’t cut deep enough my heart my big, big heart spilling through my ribcage it wants to get out *if i want to let you in i have to let it out*

0

glassea

Jun 9, 2016

Jun 9, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC

belbere

tear the walls down

she says my heart is too big it barely fits i say i can feel the veins slithering down my wrists i was born with walls so thick no human eye could see where i began and where i ended i could feel my heart hammering away at my ribcage it wanted to get out when they tore down the walls and brought me into this world they didn’t cut deep enough she talks in pulses and palpitations and every time my heart flutters she loses her breath i tried to tear the walls down myself i couldn’t cut deep enough she says something a thump a thump thump but my heart is too big it’s the only thing i hear the only thing i know there’s not enough room for two i can feel my veins overflowing i can’t cut deep enough my heart my big, big heart spilling through my ribcage it wants to get out *if i want to let you in i have to let it out*

49

I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED. i want my name to echo through the ages, ringing into the ground. i want my image memorialized in someone’s eyes. i want sinking ships named after me, my name whispered as some prayer to the past. and if that means i have to destroy the world: so be it.

0

Jun 3, 2016

Jun 3, 2016 at 6:48 PM UTC

glassea

a villain, and her motives

I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED. i want my name to echo through the ages, ringing into the ground. i want my image memorialized in someone’s eyes. i want sinking ships named after me, my name whispered as some prayer to the past. and if that means i have to destroy the world: so be it.

3