ridapee - Hello Poetry

Is there a word for the moment you win tug of war, when the weight gives and all that extra rope comes tumbling towards you? How even though you’ve won, you still end up with muddy knees and scratches on your hands? Is there a word for that? I wish there was. I would’ve said it last night, when we were finally alone together Strawberry Lemonade Mike-Hards in the hands of heavy hearts. We finally stopped, we finally fell; the game was over. We were messy and vulnerable but for once, we weren't one two sides of a rope. I hope theres a word for that. I would say it all the time.

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Oct 20, 2018

Oct 20, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC

ridapee

Tug Of War / work in progress

Is there a word for the moment you win tug of war, when the weight gives and all that extra rope comes tumbling towards you? How even though you’ve won, you still end up with muddy knees and scratches on your hands? Is there a word for that? I wish there was. I would’ve said it last night, when we were finally alone together Strawberry Lemonade Mike-Hards in the hands of heavy hearts. We finally stopped, we finally fell; the game was over. We were messy and vulnerable but for once, we weren't one two sides of a rope. I hope theres a word for that. I would say it all the time.

9

(work in progress) The first love of my life never saw me naked. There was always a parent coming home in half an hour, Always a little brother in the next room. Always too much body and not enough time for me to show it. Instead, I gave him my shoulder, my elbow, the bend of my knee. I lent him my corners, my edges, the parts of me I could afford to offer, The parts I had long since given up trying to hide. He never asked for more. He gave me back his eyelashes, the back of his neck, his palms. We held each piece we were given like it was a nectarine that could bruise if we weren't careful. We collected them like we were trying to build an orchard inspo// w.i.p :-)

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Sep 7, 2017

Sep 7, 2017 at 12:55 AM UTC

ridapee

the first love of my life never saw me naked

(work in progress) The first love of my life never saw me naked. There was always a parent coming home in half an hour, Always a little brother in the next room. Always too much body and not enough time for me to show it. Instead, I gave him my shoulder, my elbow, the bend of my knee. I lent him my corners, my edges, the parts of me I could afford to offer, The parts I had long since given up trying to hide. He never asked for more. He gave me back his eyelashes, the back of his neck, his palms. We held each piece we were given like it was a nectarine that could bruise if we weren't careful. We collected them like we were trying to build an orchard inspo// w.i.p :-)

13

Tonight, I raised my hand to my face to brush away an untamed curl of hair, and when it slid past my nose, it smelled suddenly of you. Not your cologne, or the soap you use, not shampoo or aftershave. That skinsmell I find tucked into your neckplace// I held very still and closed my eyes, trying to keep whatever particles of you I managed to steal, until even my inhale meant losing you. So then I didn’t breathe at all, just held my hand against my cheek, and for a moment, felt that it was you // ___ your scent lingers just like you >leaving >never coming

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Aug 30, 2017

Aug 30, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC

ridapee

scent

Tonight, I raised my hand to my face to brush away an untamed curl of hair, and when it slid past my nose, it smelled suddenly of you. Not your cologne, or the soap you use, not shampoo or aftershave. That skinsmell I find tucked into your neckplace// I held very still and closed my eyes, trying to keep whatever particles of you I managed to steal, until even my inhale meant losing you. So then I didn’t breathe at all, just held my hand against my cheek, and for a moment, felt that it was you // ___ your scent lingers just like you >leaving >never coming

17

no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. believe me, i’ve tried.

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Aug 30, 2017

Aug 30, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC

ridapee

baby (incomplete) (inspo//wip)

no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. believe me, i’ve tried.

1

I never signed up for this To be that model, walking down the isle begging for people to stare, to promise justice to things outside my control. I never asked for the prying eyes Inquisitive of the depths of my skin Watching carefully Picking at my features Studying my skin. Judgmental eyes Lingering a minute to long Up and down and up. Their gaze It picks, picks, picks Like rubbing a soft scab Quietly. I never asked for that.

0

May 2, 2013

May 2, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC

ridapee

never signed up for this

I never signed up for this To be that model, walking down the isle begging for people to stare, to promise justice to things outside my control. I never asked for the prying eyes Inquisitive of the depths of my skin Watching carefully Picking at my features Studying my skin. Judgmental eyes Lingering a minute to long Up and down and up. Their gaze It picks, picks, picks Like rubbing a soft scab Quietly. I never asked for that.

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