moonqueen - Hello Poetry

your scars are hollowed out parts from loss and grief he fills that lonely silence with rage, anger, questions things you don't let yourself feel but it's okay. you don't have to when he does that for you. and when you learned to be angry, kicked aside and unmoored he told you that can feel good for a while. but when it's right to leave the anger in the past, to see it for the vehicle it is (but never truly lose the fire) there's peace. a still, righteous kind for so long you didn't get it because the surface is still it took a long time to venture into the water but now it's an ocean you call home sometimes you don't really remember what it was like before you could swim when it's dark, the ocean holds you holds you up and lets you see the moon and the stars he looks up too there must be loss in nearly losing someone to illness, too it must be what he's felt and carried you don't feel bitterness about that now you know what it means to love fiercely distance, geography, geology and even planes be ****** you know what it feels like to lay it out there how important it is to have just one or two humans accept it even just one who really understands you can barely imagine it, but it makes sense that he's this amazing when so many people accept what he's been through understand it have made it to today because he chose to do so after so long, what feels like being poisoned you throw up wash off stand up and start dancing again that's liberation the past isn't shackles, it's a reminder the past is memory the brain always relives, never just remembers remembering is what language is putting past pain on a page, even in pixels is a way of knowing that it's over that we can only say this because we're in the present art and surviving are one and the same this is your one conviction for you, it's blood deep but it doesn't need to be just landing on the surface, it's felt screams, growls, voice cracks the smell of burning the grind of a guitar with your skin, your ears, eyes and nose you took it in you know it changed you yet again you're softer opened up like a lotus and hungry what's even more beautiful than coming to now is heading to tomorrow running, skipping, flying even if sometimes you're crawling it's never too late you find it when you need it most starting over and over there isn't such a thing as goodbye

0

May 19, 2023

May 19, 2023 at 2:50 PM UTC

neurowriting

your scars are hollowed out parts from loss and grief he fills that lonely silence with rage, anger, questions things you don't let yourself feel but it's okay. you don't have to when he does that for you. and when you learned to be angry, kicked aside and unmoored he told you that can feel good for a while. but when it's right to leave the anger in the past, to see it for the vehicle it is (but never truly lose the fire) there's peace. a still, righteous kind for so long you didn't get it because the surface is still it took a long time to venture into the water but now it's an ocean you call home sometimes you don't really remember what it was like before you could swim when it's dark, the ocean holds you holds you up and lets you see the moon and the stars he looks up too there must be loss in nearly losing someone to illness, too it must be what he's felt and carried you don't feel bitterness about that now you know what it means to love fiercely distance, geography, geology and even planes be ****** you know what it feels like to lay it out there how important it is to have just one or two humans accept it even just one who really understands you can barely imagine it, but it makes sense that he's this amazing when so many people accept what he's been through understand it have made it to today because he chose to do so after so long, what feels like being poisoned you throw up wash off stand up and start dancing again that's liberation the past isn't shackles, it's a reminder the past is memory the brain always relives, never just remembers remembering is what language is putting past pain on a page, even in pixels is a way of knowing that it's over that we can only say this because we're in the present art and surviving are one and the same this is your one conviction for you, it's blood deep but it doesn't need to be just landing on the surface, it's felt screams, growls, voice cracks the smell of burning the grind of a guitar with your skin, your ears, eyes and nose you took it in you know it changed you yet again you're softer opened up like a lotus and hungry what's even more beautiful than coming to now is heading to tomorrow running, skipping, flying even if sometimes you're crawling it's never too late you find it when you need it most starting over and over there isn't such a thing as goodbye

65

and it is certain, as certain as wisps of hope and grey smoky prayers can be that although distance clambers before us, the moon as i see it is the same for you the days and the nights and the schedules – to hell with them for all i know we are breathing together, we are inhaling and exhaling as one two bodies, as one in our mind’s eye and i cannot help but to feel over every pore what it feels like when your hand flattens against my neck it burns through my skin even as i sit here, eyes closed to a bright sphere which passed your vision hours earlier i shudder as the sweet burn runs through me like honey straight from the jar sugar travels fast and far, on the backs of trillions of ants like stars splayed across the earth and the earth is just a canvas where we paint our struggles though i hum at the bursting sparkles above many atmospheres they do not keep an account of the way your tongue creeps past your lips and onto mine only the earth knows the way our gaits come together and our bodies exist at the same level stretched out between us, from one son’s antennae to another’s the Queen entertains stories of those eyes that i miss, thick black crescents soft against my face things immeasurable, things untold, things i do not own you only share these with me but my access to the feelings they leave behind is limitless the distances i would travel for you to remind me of what i already know, is something the moon understands despite all else it is heavy and slow but it always returns, waiting for the inevitable yet dynamic if you tell me tomorrow what i want to hear today, i’ll get your message on time just whisper it with those rosy lips of yours and my ears will open their arms to you better yet, scream you love me into the quiet night sky and the sun will vibrate, causing the moon to chuckle the ants will find me first i sit here and i echo i love you i love you i need you i’m with you i crave you every breath until we breathe no longer i’ll say it and i’ll listen we only speak it in breaths apart i want those words, oh how i need to hear them in person and i’ll swim oceans and levitate just to hear you again tell me what i already know i’m listening with my lungs ——-

0

Aug 12, 2017

Aug 12, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC

Dimensional

and it is certain, as certain as wisps of hope and grey smoky prayers can be that although distance clambers before us, the moon as i see it is the same for you the days and the nights and the schedules – to hell with them for all i know we are breathing together, we are inhaling and exhaling as one two bodies, as one in our mind’s eye and i cannot help but to feel over every pore what it feels like when your hand flattens against my neck it burns through my skin even as i sit here, eyes closed to a bright sphere which passed your vision hours earlier i shudder as the sweet burn runs through me like honey straight from the jar sugar travels fast and far, on the backs of trillions of ants like stars splayed across the earth and the earth is just a canvas where we paint our struggles though i hum at the bursting sparkles above many atmospheres they do not keep an account of the way your tongue creeps past your lips and onto mine only the earth knows the way our gaits come together and our bodies exist at the same level stretched out between us, from one son’s antennae to another’s the Queen entertains stories of those eyes that i miss, thick black crescents soft against my face things immeasurable, things untold, things i do not own you only share these with me but my access to the feelings they leave behind is limitless the distances i would travel for you to remind me of what i already know, is something the moon understands despite all else it is heavy and slow but it always returns, waiting for the inevitable yet dynamic if you tell me tomorrow what i want to hear today, i’ll get your message on time just whisper it with those rosy lips of yours and my ears will open their arms to you better yet, scream you love me into the quiet night sky and the sun will vibrate, causing the moon to chuckle the ants will find me first i sit here and i echo i love you i love you i need you i’m with you i crave you every breath until we breathe no longer i’ll say it and i’ll listen we only speak it in breaths apart i want those words, oh how i need to hear them in person and i’ll swim oceans and levitate just to hear you again tell me what i already know i’m listening with my lungs ——-

33

and it’s my worst nightmare there’s no humanity in your eyes no warmth in your flesh have i begged for this? i chose wrong taking for granted the ways this game might change a twist of rules a banishment of choices a destruction of agreements what were all the decisions i made for? do i lack any will at all? are my choices not even my own? i fail to grasp a single shard of life in the collapsing reality i am unable to obtain a sliver of self, of power, of will as it bursts around me i’m on my knees barely breathing i must be dreaming visions flash before my eyes hot red beams bore into my skin from above all there is is destruction all there is is death touch me or don’t, i said there are no hands to hold me now no vessel to capture me no defenses and no hope without hopes, without shared understanding and a direction this is what becomes of heroes this is what becomes of harlots pirates and prostitutes in my memory curse me, mock me i feel nothing of it i am not floating, i am not sailing the stars are out of reach, i am beneath all matter there is an unforgiving blackness all around giving way to more vicious palettes; a dark whispering grey echoing tones of a dying sunset and blood stains from centuries ago in my mind i am running i am escaping towards the light but all i feel is gravel beneath me rough and real slate, threatening the devil is a painter the canvas is smeared and ripped, dripping red and grey and black beneath me it is red and grey it is hopelessness half is a haunting color that brings images of that menacing light the evil tearing me limb from limb bloodshed another tone symbolizes an uncertain frame of time not a forever no time at all, perhaps it is pain, it is ashes the whispers of the fallen fill my lungs and i am on the verge of sinking down through the gravel i endure the red beams and raise my gaze hoping for some break in the darkness a single speck of starlight, a gasp of warmth but in your eyes i can only see the world at its end, flames and the desperate wilting of all that is good speechless and breathless and hopeless more than wounded i am finished, the die is cast but it is not over

0

Aug 19, 2014

Aug 19, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC

souls have no place here; and the eyes always lie

and it’s my worst nightmare there’s no humanity in your eyes no warmth in your flesh have i begged for this? i chose wrong taking for granted the ways this game might change a twist of rules a banishment of choices a destruction of agreements what were all the decisions i made for? do i lack any will at all? are my choices not even my own? i fail to grasp a single shard of life in the collapsing reality i am unable to obtain a sliver of self, of power, of will as it bursts around me i’m on my knees barely breathing i must be dreaming visions flash before my eyes hot red beams bore into my skin from above all there is is destruction all there is is death touch me or don’t, i said there are no hands to hold me now no vessel to capture me no defenses and no hope without hopes, without shared understanding and a direction this is what becomes of heroes this is what becomes of harlots pirates and prostitutes in my memory curse me, mock me i feel nothing of it i am not floating, i am not sailing the stars are out of reach, i am beneath all matter there is an unforgiving blackness all around giving way to more vicious palettes; a dark whispering grey echoing tones of a dying sunset and blood stains from centuries ago in my mind i am running i am escaping towards the light but all i feel is gravel beneath me rough and real slate, threatening the devil is a painter the canvas is smeared and ripped, dripping red and grey and black beneath me it is red and grey it is hopelessness half is a haunting color that brings images of that menacing light the evil tearing me limb from limb bloodshed another tone symbolizes an uncertain frame of time not a forever no time at all, perhaps it is pain, it is ashes the whispers of the fallen fill my lungs and i am on the verge of sinking down through the gravel i endure the red beams and raise my gaze hoping for some break in the darkness a single speck of starlight, a gasp of warmth but in your eyes i can only see the world at its end, flames and the desperate wilting of all that is good speechless and breathless and hopeless more than wounded i am finished, the die is cast but it is not over

68

down but not broken weak but not perished stained scarred marred torn and cut but here here for me not broken, nor maimed, not torn – in spirit knowing hands adorned with glitter hands that still my heavy sobs heal my wounds, so small steady my breathing your flooded chest my eyes drown gentle hands still no eruption no great burst of light nor dark just you, me breathing alive she is alive my mother.

0

Aug 19, 2014

Aug 19, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC

Living, Breathing, Carrying – She is Life

down but not broken weak but not perished stained scarred marred torn and cut but here here for me not broken, nor maimed, not torn – in spirit knowing hands adorned with glitter hands that still my heavy sobs heal my wounds, so small steady my breathing your flooded chest my eyes drown gentle hands still no eruption no great burst of light nor dark just you, me breathing alive she is alive my mother.

20

so i am here, yet again. 'wish i could be on a train far away.' oh, i spend far too much time on trains. i tell her. she smiles and says how about we fly. i wrap my wings around her and close my eyes tightly. i pray that she isn’t there when my eyelids spring back. she’s on that train. that train to nowhere, far from me. that cold, unforgiving steel piercing her again and again. she couldn’t fly away. even if she tried, she couldn’t soar above the wreckage. i couldn’t cry hard enough. tears couldn’t be wet enough. time couldn’t be short enough. i refuse to look above – i know she isn’t there. she’s falling. she’s nothing. she’s gone.

0

Aug 19, 2014

Aug 19, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC

if memories were God.

so i am here, yet again. 'wish i could be on a train far away.' oh, i spend far too much time on trains. i tell her. she smiles and says how about we fly. i wrap my wings around her and close my eyes tightly. i pray that she isn’t there when my eyelids spring back. she’s on that train. that train to nowhere, far from me. that cold, unforgiving steel piercing her again and again. she couldn’t fly away. even if she tried, she couldn’t soar above the wreckage. i couldn’t cry hard enough. tears couldn’t be wet enough. time couldn’t be short enough. i refuse to look above – i know she isn’t there. she’s falling. she’s nothing. she’s gone.

15

I want to speak your language. The language of warfare. Intellectual fornication. Lewd romance. I want your socio. Your mad scientist. I want your hot breath and the touch of your whip. I want your contradictions and your lies. Your formulas and numbers. I want your cold, cold hands upon mine.

0

Aug 18, 2014

Aug 18, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC

556564

I want to speak your language. The language of warfare. Intellectual fornication. Lewd romance. I want your socio. Your mad scientist. I want your hot breath and the touch of your whip. I want your contradictions and your lies. Your formulas and numbers. I want your cold, cold hands upon mine.

3

he’s like a lighter and when I look at him I start sweating gasoline crimson electricity surging throughout my core the blood in my veins becomes magma afraid to let it loose for it could have me skinned, I aim to cool my desire behind lies more wretched than even my wishes my eyes flicker silhouettes of the internal battle as I watch him, vigor and all Painting the world his own shade of red he continues to move forward while a blaze floats around my helpless form. the wind, though powerful and almost solid, is hardly relief from the smoldering attack his gaze pierces me without warning: the match has been thrown.

0

Aug 18, 2014

Aug 18, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC

rouge

he’s like a lighter and when I look at him I start sweating gasoline crimson electricity surging throughout my core the blood in my veins becomes magma afraid to let it loose for it could have me skinned, I aim to cool my desire behind lies more wretched than even my wishes my eyes flicker silhouettes of the internal battle as I watch him, vigor and all Painting the world his own shade of red he continues to move forward while a blaze floats around my helpless form. the wind, though powerful and almost solid, is hardly relief from the smoldering attack his gaze pierces me without warning: the match has been thrown.

14