sanseviera - Hello Poetry

i can cage you like a dove, let you dig your fingers into my hips. spit in my mouth and call it love, let me choke a sorry from your pretty lips. we can take a hit in your loft, let the heat rise and tension mount. don’t try to make it sweet and soft, just make each bite count.

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Dec 28, 2023

Dec 28, 2023 at 8:49 PM UTC

4/23/23

i can cage you like a dove, let you dig your fingers into my hips. spit in my mouth and call it love, let me choke a sorry from your pretty lips. we can take a hit in your loft, let the heat rise and tension mount. don’t try to make it sweet and soft, just make each bite count.

8

brushing my fingers against the surface of the water blue, the depths, they whisper. sweet words that belie the tendrils that yearn to drag me down, down. to pull ‘til my lips kiss the sandy floors, and knuckles of those who drowned before me.

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Dec 28, 2023

Dec 28, 2023 at 8:43 PM UTC

on the boardwalk

brushing my fingers against the surface of the water blue, the depths, they whisper. sweet words that belie the tendrils that yearn to drag me down, down. to pull ‘til my lips kiss the sandy floors, and knuckles of those who drowned before me.

11

I’m used to being alone. These past few years with you have just spoiled me. But when we inevitably part, I will remember what it is like to be alone, And it will not be enough. But it was before, And it will have to be again.

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Dec 28, 2023

Dec 28, 2023 at 8:40 PM UTC

Untitled

I’m used to being alone. These past few years with you have just spoiled me. But when we inevitably part, I will remember what it is like to be alone, And it will not be enough. But it was before, And it will have to be again.

7

There is a word for love, There is a word for sadness, There is a word for anger. Yet I have tried, again and again, To find a word for how I feel About that little girl in my memories, And I have found nothing. There is not a word for how I long to hold her close, Whisper that it will be okay, That things will get better with time, That she will not always feel alone. There is not a word for how I wish I could slow down time, Show her the things that will happen, So that she may prepare herself For how it will hurt. There is not a word for how I want to discard her, Rip her hands away from my sleeve, Be as cruel to her as her constant cries have been to me. There is a word for love, For sadness, And for anger. But never one for her.

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Mar 2, 2023

Mar 2, 2023 at 11:14 PM UTC

A Word (Or Lack Thereof)

There is a word for love, There is a word for sadness, There is a word for anger. Yet I have tried, again and again, To find a word for how I feel About that little girl in my memories, And I have found nothing. There is not a word for how I long to hold her close, Whisper that it will be okay, That things will get better with time, That she will not always feel alone. There is not a word for how I wish I could slow down time, Show her the things that will happen, So that she may prepare herself For how it will hurt. There is not a word for how I want to discard her, Rip her hands away from my sleeve, Be as cruel to her as her constant cries have been to me. There is a word for love, For sadness, And for anger. But never one for her.

22

My breath catches in my throat as you open the doors to the balcony, peering down at me with curious eyes. Your hair is brushed soft, let out from its usual braid and swept to the side. The moonlight illuminates your face, reflecting like you’re made of the loveliest marble. Your shirt looks soft, a little worn, with a small hole in the shoulder and slipping down the slightest bit. Our eyes meet, and you smile gently. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. “Hi,” you greet me, and there’s something fond in the way you say it. I’m pretty sure I woke you, but it doesn’t seem like you mind. Maybe you’re even happy to see me, if I’m bold enough to suggest so. I don’t realize I’m staring for a moment. I think I stopped breathing when I saw you. But thankfully, I’m able to at least work my tongue, and I clear my throat before I speak. “Hey.” Maybe I looked funny when I spoke, or maybe you just realized I had a stick in my hair from climbing through the trees to reach your balcony. But you laugh, and I feel the rest of my thoughts fizzle out in favor of my brain activating whatever part of it is dedicated to processing all the love I have for you. Climbing stone walls is hard, and it’s even harder with a heavy bag slung around your shoulders. But I find that as you help me climb over and hold my hands so softly in your own, giggling at me losing my balance, I would climb a thousand of those dumb things just to see you in all your heart-stopping beauty.

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Oct 21, 2021

Oct 21, 2021 at 9:17 AM UTC

You

My breath catches in my throat as you open the doors to the balcony, peering down at me with curious eyes. Your hair is brushed soft, let out from its usual braid and swept to the side. The moonlight illuminates your face, reflecting like you’re made of the loveliest marble. Your shirt looks soft, a little worn, with a small hole in the shoulder and slipping down the slightest bit. Our eyes meet, and you smile gently. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. “Hi,” you greet me, and there’s something fond in the way you say it. I’m pretty sure I woke you, but it doesn’t seem like you mind. Maybe you’re even happy to see me, if I’m bold enough to suggest so. I don’t realize I’m staring for a moment. I think I stopped breathing when I saw you. But thankfully, I’m able to at least work my tongue, and I clear my throat before I speak. “Hey.” Maybe I looked funny when I spoke, or maybe you just realized I had a stick in my hair from climbing through the trees to reach your balcony. But you laugh, and I feel the rest of my thoughts fizzle out in favor of my brain activating whatever part of it is dedicated to processing all the love I have for you. Climbing stone walls is hard, and it’s even harder with a heavy bag slung around your shoulders. But I find that as you help me climb over and hold my hands so softly in your own, giggling at me losing my balance, I would climb a thousand of those dumb things just to see you in all your heart-stopping beauty.

7

It’s a little weird, knowing what you can be. When I was young, I didn’t really question some things. They were what they were. There was no, “what am I?” That wasn’t a thing because I never realized that you could be something else. People called me a girl because I looked like one. People called me a girl because I was one. People called me a girl, and it never felt out of place. And that was that. Ignorance is bliss, in that regard. You don’t know something feels off when you don’t know it /can/ be off. Sometimes, I think it would be better to be blind than to spend a lifetime seeing the dents in the wall, wondering if they were always there, or if you made them yourself.

0

Oct 21, 2021

Oct 21, 2021 at 9:10 AM UTC

Untitled

It’s a little weird, knowing what you can be. When I was young, I didn’t really question some things. They were what they were. There was no, “what am I?” That wasn’t a thing because I never realized that you could be something else. People called me a girl because I looked like one. People called me a girl because I was one. People called me a girl, and it never felt out of place. And that was that. Ignorance is bliss, in that regard. You don’t know something feels off when you don’t know it /can/ be off. Sometimes, I think it would be better to be blind than to spend a lifetime seeing the dents in the wall, wondering if they were always there, or if you made them yourself.

11

Sometimes, when I’m around you I wonder How much would it take To push my heart back into place To reach in And stop it from pounding And pounding Against my ribs The sound so loud in my ears The throbbing pressing against my lungs Leaving no room No space For The air I so Desperately Desperately Need. Tell me. How much longer Until You Leave.

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Jul 17, 2021

Jul 17, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC

Heart

Sometimes, when I’m around you I wonder How much would it take To push my heart back into place To reach in And stop it from pounding And pounding Against my ribs The sound so loud in my ears The throbbing pressing against my lungs Leaving no room No space For The air I so Desperately Desperately Need. Tell me. How much longer Until You Leave.

23