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"If you love it set it free,
if it returns then it's meant to be,"
though I know these messages
no one will read
nor will they ever come back to me.

Feet steeped
knee deep
I plea
with the sea,
debris
and defeat
littering
the beach.

Moonlit mirror,
image obliterated
by rocky reefs,
leaving only
glittering filigree
just beyond reach,
surrounded by
what-could-have-beens.

Nobody
keeps me company
but grief.
Winter depression sets in,
every expression arrested
til my wretched essence
resuscitated, resurrected;
or maybe it was just
the stench of my flesh
on the precipice and threshold of death.

I awaken
sweat drenched;
vengeance of my enemy,
my relentless nemesis
the nightmare dreamt memories,
a penitentiary;
prison sentence spent
held in contempt,
solitary confinement
immense emptiness
solidified in icy torment,
cell cemented;
detention condemns.
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Thought I would need to be blind
to miss the signs that
you were meant to be mine;
smiles stretched miles wide
and serendipity starbound
in the nights together
awake til twilight.
But your gentle touch
is now engraved in my spine,
cleaved by the same knives
which divided
once you decided
that you reside
over the line.

Memories that bind
still seize,
bleed in my mind;
I'm undone
but not yet untied,
I took a dive
and the only reciprocity
were my returning sighs like the tide,
the quiet and silence
of goodbyes
bottles now washed up on the seaside
freezing messages
left inside,
the past now magnified,
broken glass gutting
and cutting me down to size
leaves me grieving a lie
crying why can't I find,
tried,
died,
now pining to be revived–
my god am I even still alive?
Well I guess its time
to just
survive.
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Indigenous citizen
struggling to stay civilized
amidst
monolithic visages,
stone-faced and stoic witnesses;
overhead,
gargoyles grin—
hideous grimaces
guarding ever vigilant.

Inhospitable city grid
dimly lit,
rain's residual liquid
slicks
gritty asphalt
glistened,
blacktop igneous
pavement glittering–
rigid obsidian.

Hidden within this vision
visits
solitude, unsolicited–
loneliness exhibited,
never fitting in;
island imprisonment
as bridges begin
quivering
above stygian rivers grim,
abysmal reflections glint,
swimming in viridian.

Water's brim risen
to vertiginous limits
I see
flitting images
of cataclysmic collision with
frigidness
obliterating to oblivion.

A dismal wish
reminded by
a grisly glimpse
of figments vivid since
residual shiver imprints
from winter's winds
whipping shins
and thinning skin;
I cringe, wither, wince,
my eyelids squint–
but I still live, so
no longer motionless
my frostbitten digits grip,
limbs never given in
to blizzard's pins
or crystalline prisms–
I walk,
despite icy splinters
and misery digging in
my ambition wins.
Took me over a year to write this one, just never seemed to come out right (and I'm still not so sure I even like how it turned out lol)... probably gonna take me a little while to smooth out the wrinkles (and I'm still not so sure I managed to turn it into the cohesive/coherent narrative i was aiming for 🤷‍♂️)
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Abruptly
deep in my gut,
no longer
fluttering butterflies,
the flustered blushing,
rush of blood,
but utter disgust
bubbling up.

Knees buckling,
stuck in its clutches
when it cuts,
ruptures,
unobstructed
it erupts;
gushing upset
to puddles
and like destructions not enough,
still struggling to adjust,
im left
just a husk.

Nerves in flux,
shuddering
from as much as a touch,
thoughts no longer
lustrous luck
but nothing–
dusk.
So what of us?
We rust,
structure
reduced to rubble,
crushed
to dust.
This one is about that sweeping feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time something reminds you. Even afrer being with them a year the butterflies never stopped, and now its like they just hurt. I swear im constantly trying my hardest not to think about it but it's hard when you shared so much (and so much of yourself) with someone that everything is just a constant reminder (when i used to think about how lucky i was) 💔
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
[Honeydew (Part 1)]

In **** communion
two bodies blooming,
fluidly fused.
Blushing, rouge–
human muse
illusion's hues
in but a glimpse,
a view,
maroon turned blue;
and like sweet honeydew
exhumed at the roots
feelings bruised
as you withdrew.

[Honeydew (Part 2)]

Cupid shoots,
I still remember how my
nerves were electrocuted,
how I swooned
at your perfume
til it became
my own execution,
the noose;
wounds weeping
bood red
ruby fluid plume
cumulus, creeping,
soon mutilated to
an excruciating monsoon.

Déjá vu,
youth in ruins,
entombed;
only suited for
the seclusion, solitude,
and crushing quietude that ensues,
born to be a recluse
far removed
no matter what I try to choose
or do in the future–
everything I love
I am doomed to lose.
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
[Untitled (1st draft)]

I am the transient man,
intangible phantom
banished to abandoned lands;
vast expanse,
canyons spanned–
chancing stance on
steepest slants and
shifting sands
as if the whole planets ******.

What began as arms working in tandem
became appendages ending in frantic answers,
this romanceless dance a tantrum
just to get a handle,
my damaged hands scramble.

Trying to meet the demands for a lantern
with only this wind stricken candle's
wick flickering, unample.

But no,
leave plants to wither
in sunlit strands absence,
animals rabid with famine–
I plan to build the grandest mansion
carve the
fireplace's mantle,
walls like anvils
strong enough to withstand
any cannonball;
wrought iron fence and brambles
not even god could trample.
Really not so sure about this one (as usual lol), not sure if it's a little too fragmented/disjointed or if it's even worth keeping 🤷‍♂️ been tryin like hell to stay positive lately tho
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