refractedstar - Hello Poetry

And the memory chokes me— (like your hands once did) but my neck is cold, ice cold and its hands are warm. I am sorry, I have learnt to breathe breathlessly. I have begun to find comfort in the lack of oxygen, and the ache of pressure on my windpipe. God, it is painful. God, it is lovely. (I never wanted this) Please do not try to remove its hands from my tender, wanting throat.

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May 1

May 1, 2026 at 2:50 PM UTC

Untitled

And the memory chokes me— (like your hands once did) but my neck is cold, ice cold and its hands are warm. I am sorry, I have learnt to breathe breathlessly. I have begun to find comfort in the lack of oxygen, and the ache of pressure on my windpipe. God, it is painful. God, it is lovely. (I never wanted this) Please do not try to remove its hands from my tender, wanting throat.

18

the earth shakes, the soil reeks of evil, ignorance and gunpowder. baby, when the first warhead fell-- did it seem like a shooting star? did you make a wish? baby, the sulfur burns your skin, the world scrolls past, the man farthest from hurt praises the bomb. baby, how is every child precious, until its you? baby, were you learning math, or grammar, when it fell? baby, were you burnt, after killed? or killed, after burnt? baby, the world listens, but begs not to. baby, child, darling, dearest, beloved-- i am sorry. please condemn us. please do not think of us-- of the pain we have allowed for you. in heaven, may you make a thousand wishes, may you complete learning, the lesson you left behind, may your laugh, smile, play never end.

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Mar 23

Mar 23, 2026 at 2:47 PM UTC

baby

the earth shakes, the soil reeks of evil, ignorance and gunpowder. baby, when the first warhead fell-- did it seem like a shooting star? did you make a wish? baby, the sulfur burns your skin, the world scrolls past, the man farthest from hurt praises the bomb. baby, how is every child precious, until its you? baby, were you learning math, or grammar, when it fell? baby, were you burnt, after killed? or killed, after burnt? baby, the world listens, but begs not to. baby, child, darling, dearest, beloved-- i am sorry. please condemn us. please do not think of us-- of the pain we have allowed for you. in heaven, may you make a thousand wishes, may you complete learning, the lesson you left behind, may your laugh, smile, play never end.

29

and give this life-- to someone who can make light of it give it to the tired mother who gives her soul to her children; broken tenderly into bite-sized pieces. give it to the struggling patient, who fights to live, and stares at the sky like it is almost home. give it to the resilient human, who sits, head dipped, behind the cage built not of justice, but false lies. and, please-- give it to the child, who has heard more bombs than fireworks, yet still holds the world's hope within tiny, shaking hands. in my hands, it is-- no more than a drop of water in a vast desert. so i pray it be given instead to the heart who deserves this life, and more.

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Mar 17

Mar 17, 2026 at 8:17 PM UTC

Untitled

and give this life-- to someone who can make light of it give it to the tired mother who gives her soul to her children; broken tenderly into bite-sized pieces. give it to the struggling patient, who fights to live, and stares at the sky like it is almost home. give it to the resilient human, who sits, head dipped, behind the cage built not of justice, but false lies. and, please-- give it to the child, who has heard more bombs than fireworks, yet still holds the world's hope within tiny, shaking hands. in my hands, it is-- no more than a drop of water in a vast desert. so i pray it be given instead to the heart who deserves this life, and more.

23

tangential, the blade against my neck like a sigh breathy, as dream— derail my senses to follow your song upon the altar, of my very being. in miserable dance, crush the ritual of promise within shaking, stunning palms. tap your feet, dancer— your hands, ribbon-like, and in one swell motion— the blade against my neck, tangential.

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Feb 14

Feb 14, 2026 at 1:29 AM UTC

dancer; don't go

tangential, the blade against my neck like a sigh breathy, as dream— derail my senses to follow your song upon the altar, of my very being. in miserable dance, crush the ritual of promise within shaking, stunning palms. tap your feet, dancer— your hands, ribbon-like, and in one swell motion— the blade against my neck, tangential.

15

SELL THE THOUGHT BUY THE SELLER THE OLDEST THING, ENDS UP NEWER CONSUME THE CONSUMER RAISE THE FLAG HEART, LAID BARE ONLY LAND KNOWS TRUE DROUGHT "WILL YOU TRUST ME TO TAKE YOUR HAND?"

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Jan 28

Jan 28, 2026 at 11:20 AM UTC

SELL THE THOUGHT)

SELL THE THOUGHT BUY THE SELLER THE OLDEST THING, ENDS UP NEWER CONSUME THE CONSUMER RAISE THE FLAG HEART, LAID BARE ONLY LAND KNOWS TRUE DROUGHT "WILL YOU TRUST ME TO TAKE YOUR HAND?"

10

i confess my love, today, yet my words, please excuse them— they may not sound fancy, in the a way a poet embroiders beauty onto skin, or in the way a writer paints colours with phrase. but I love you so— and nothing can change: words weaved of magnificent silk, may unfasten, one day words weaved with love, however, may never come undone.

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Dec 31, 2025

Dec 31, 2025 at 2:29 AM UTC

Untitled

i confess my love, today, yet my words, please excuse them— they may not sound fancy, in the a way a poet embroiders beauty onto skin, or in the way a writer paints colours with phrase. but I love you so— and nothing can change: words weaved of magnificent silk, may unfasten, one day words weaved with love, however, may never come undone.

14

radiate, my love warm my tomb with lies dance on my grave, always yours

0

Dec 31, 2025

Dec 31, 2025 at 1:22 AM UTC

haiku

radiate, my love warm my tomb with lies dance on my grave, always yours

3

and I hope— when death 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 come; (because I know it will) may it find me: the way the pollen finds the bee, the way the dream finds the sleep, the way love finds grief. like fate, like promise— and most of all: ready.

0

Dec 30, 2025

Dec 30, 2025 at 11:25 PM UTC

please cradle me, death

and I hope— when death 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 come; (because I know it will) may it find me: the way the pollen finds the bee, the way the dream finds the sleep, the way love finds grief. like fate, like promise— and most of all: ready.

10

yes, you surrender— but your fist is clenched tight nails digging into your palm. and you hold your heart like its the only thing, keeping you anchored. what is more— the power? the constant? the loss? it's not enough to float; untethered but just enough to breathe, despite underwater.

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Oct 27, 2025

Oct 27, 2025 at 10:56 AM UTC

courageous defeat

yes, you surrender— but your fist is clenched tight nails digging into your palm. and you hold your heart like its the only thing, keeping you anchored. what is more— the power? the constant? the loss? it's not enough to float; untethered but just enough to breathe, despite underwater.

13

I stare up at you, as you hold me, in your lap. I mutter a half-hearted apology, and I tell you to please stop crying because what can be better, than exactly this? Me in your arms. your hands flinch, under my blood, warm like your embrace. And i smile in confusion, when you sob, as you drag your hands over my eyes. You say something, about peace, and rest, and death. I'm sorry. I thought death was the loss of your hands in mine. Am I still a martyr, if I die not for my land, but what forever kept me landed? Whether I dig it up, or drink it down, isn't love all love?

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Aug 24, 2025

Aug 24, 2025 at 2:00 PM UTC

martyr

I stare up at you, as you hold me, in your lap. I mutter a half-hearted apology, and I tell you to please stop crying because what can be better, than exactly this? Me in your arms. your hands flinch, under my blood, warm like your embrace. And i smile in confusion, when you sob, as you drag your hands over my eyes. You say something, about peace, and rest, and death. I'm sorry. I thought death was the loss of your hands in mine. Am I still a martyr, if I die not for my land, but what forever kept me landed? Whether I dig it up, or drink it down, isn't love all love?

27