natashatai - Hello Poetry

picture the pieces of yourself that you spent hours picking apart for every flaw and imperfection for every blemish, every mark. double them as plasters, band-aids stuck to shield the wounds made by your mistakes, by your infractions. they weren't good enough. sticking to your skin like leaves off branches, baring crimson and flesh torn open.

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Jun 6, 2020

Jun 6, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC

i once was __

picture the pieces of yourself that you spent hours picking apart for every flaw and imperfection for every blemish, every mark. double them as plasters, band-aids stuck to shield the wounds made by your mistakes, by your infractions. they weren't good enough. sticking to your skin like leaves off branches, baring crimson and flesh torn open.

12

tightrope with balance tethered to a fine thread. break, swing, loom, yet falling feels safer, an appeal of sorts put to test the water. gravity drops me, hangs hopes on a ledge. beat, space, beat. flow slowing, heart stopping, digits slipping, valve skipping. save this dear tightrope, don’t let me fall slash tell to let go, winds will catch weight waves break on walls.

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Apr 21, 2020

Apr 21, 2020 at 2:53 PM UTC

“catch”

tightrope with balance tethered to a fine thread. break, swing, loom, yet falling feels safer, an appeal of sorts put to test the water. gravity drops me, hangs hopes on a ledge. beat, space, beat. flow slowing, heart stopping, digits slipping, valve skipping. save this dear tightrope, don’t let me fall slash tell to let go, winds will catch weight waves break on walls.

16

we dream and we dream till we fade to grey ash and bones dreams here will stay in homes they live our minds roots thrive cloud and storm dreams still will survive dream with me you may see through these eyes and yours I dream bid me goodbye.

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Apr 13, 2020

Apr 13, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC

and what of these dreams?

we dream and we dream till we fade to grey ash and bones dreams here will stay in homes they live our minds roots thrive cloud and storm dreams still will survive dream with me you may see through these eyes and yours I dream bid me goodbye.

12

“speck of sunshine beneath the clouds, daylight breaks, bring rooster’s sound. yawns and sighs as time ticks through, rustling sheets bid me adieu. farewell, goodbye, I’ll see you soon, perhaps sometime this afternoon?”

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Apr 7, 2020

Apr 7, 2020 at 11:54 AM UTC

dawn

“speck of sunshine beneath the clouds, daylight breaks, bring rooster’s sound. yawns and sighs as time ticks through, rustling sheets bid me adieu. farewell, goodbye, I’ll see you soon, perhaps sometime this afternoon?”

6

here's to the glass slipper you refused to wear, the flower you didn't let them braid in your hair. they called you princess and gave you a crown, fed you from silver, threaded silk for a gown. delicate, precious, frail as a daisy, "you mustn't do that, you should sit like a lady," ordained to be queen but holding much bigger dreams, they'd come running when you broke at your seams. suitors so fit, deemed worthy by father princes so charming, speaking of gardens of flowers. you delayed your answers, you bought time to yourself to discover who you were, behind expectant smiles.

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Apr 6, 2020

Apr 6, 2020 at 9:43 AM UTC

blue-blood.

here's to the glass slipper you refused to wear, the flower you didn't let them braid in your hair. they called you princess and gave you a crown, fed you from silver, threaded silk for a gown. delicate, precious, frail as a daisy, "you mustn't do that, you should sit like a lady," ordained to be queen but holding much bigger dreams, they'd come running when you broke at your seams. suitors so fit, deemed worthy by father princes so charming, speaking of gardens of flowers. you delayed your answers, you bought time to yourself to discover who you were, behind expectant smiles.

12

swish of sheets and flurries of light, cotton through fingers a touch to wet ice. pillows of white, slow nights of sleet call to mine conscience fond memories to keep.

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Apr 5, 2020

Apr 5, 2020 at 6:03 AM UTC

sweden

swish of sheets and flurries of light, cotton through fingers a touch to wet ice. pillows of white, slow nights of sleet call to mine conscience fond memories to keep.

8