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Emilyn Mar 19
i fantasize about being warm
i know, pitiful
but there's something so special about getting out of a warm bath or running out of the ocean water so your mom can wrap you up in a towel and carry you while you fall asleep
everything feels a little bit brighter
id set all the fires i could if it meant feeling that warmth again
im back and im trying not to make my poems so long
  Oct 2020 Emilyn
Supposing that we lit some candles.
One for each person on this earth,
we would blow one out at a funeral
and light one up at a birth.

The world would grow darker
every time we lost a fighter
but with every new born baby
it gets just that bit brighter.

If you travelled into a city that was dark and gritty
you'd know that they didn't have many in their committee.
But.. If the light was brilliant and bright
it would send a beaming message throughout the night.

Saying "We are here! And we are alive!"
Not wanting to be alone we endeavor to collide
and form one giant, shining beacon
that burns so fierce we're sure it can't weaken

We sparkle and crackle and bend nature to our whim
the mighty fire so strong it just had to gave in.
With it we forged iron and buildings, cars and computers
and lit paths of lives to guide commuters

We lit up the universe as far as we could see
Improving our lives greatly with technology
obsessed with our professed fixture on practicality
we completely forgot about morality

Our fires forged weapons which we aimed next door
In one swift movement we saw the effects of war
6,000,000 candles extinguished
over arguments on which light is most distinguished

So fixated on this light we blinded our eyes
and the candle smoke filled the skies.
We thought candles were good, they elevated us higher
but now all we have is thick smoke and fire.

The fire consuming all in its route
the root of our lives follow suite.
It's eating the oxygen and burning the grass
the sand is melting and forming to glass.

The glass it shatters into a thousand pieces
more candles are lighting, the temperature increases
The resources decline, as do the candles
buried in ash a hundred thousand scandals.

Now only a few lit candles remain
as they slowly melt and fade away.
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Emilyn Oct 2020
im overcome with the need to reinvent myself and confess everything to everyone, to become so open that im bleeding out every secret ive ever had to keep all over the linoleum floor, but second thoughts stitch me back together with needles made of words meant to cut, whittled down thin enough to fit just underneath the skin, pulling gashes in my skin together with online threads about checking up on your friends that everyone reads and nobody listens to, performative pieces that people regurgitate to make you think they care but they dont, because we're too busy worrying about ourselves to think of anybody else. we're conceited by nature, reverse narcissists kneeling by a river, scrutinizing our reflections, searching, aching for imperfections so we can say "look at how horribly ugly i am and pity me". we're too proud to be pitiful and too pitiful to have any pride, paradoxical advertisements of lonely people too scared to ask for love.

my hands are shaking and my mind is buzzing and if this makes any semblance of sense to you then I am so terribly sorry.
i chugged an energy drink before spanish class and came up with this mess of metaphors. enjoy.
Emilyn Oct 2020
im soft right now

and part of me wonders

will you love me when im no longer soft

when my muscles shift and my hips get bony

will you tell me to put on a few pounds

put some meat on my bones

when im no longer a soprano or even an alto

will you tell me my voice is too loud and booming

that i should speak softly

when hair blankets my body like moss on a stone

will you tell me my kisses hurt you

that if i dont shave every day its too itchy to bear

will my body be the end of us

i hope not

because under enough blankets my hips wont poke you

and after enough lullabies everything feels quiet

and with enough beard oil anything is soft enough to kiss
Emilyn Jul 2020
-2:16 a.m-
emilenn is online
hey, are you up?
doesn't matter
there's so much I need to tell you
and at this point it doesn't matter if you're here to listen or not
so i'll start off with the heaviest thing
i love you
and right now im not quite sure what that means
but i needed to say it because i don't say it nearly enough
next thing on the list is that i miss you so much right now
and i dont know if it's the isolation getting to me or what
but i miss everything about you
your hands
and how i was always too nervous to ask if i could hold them
because i didnt know where we stood
and for some reason
something deep inside me
thought asking would make you hate me
your eyes
and the little tears of laughter that would ***** up in them
whenever i would do that impression of my old chemistry teacher
because your laugh was golden to me
and id do anything to hear it again
your smile
and how you refused to show your teeth cos you hated your braces
and how i so badly wanted to pry your lips open with mine
because your braces are so **** cute
your voice
and that raspiness it gets when you laugh too hard for too long
and how for some reason
i wanted to hug you every time your voice got like that
or maybe im just being melodramatic
and this is all too much for a conversation at 2 am
with a person whos not even here
but i need you to know how loved you are
because i haven't been told in a long time
whether or not people actually care about me
and not to **** on your family
but i figured it was the same for you
so i love you
whatever that means
*emilenn has left
freeform poetry: the only thing depressive episodes are good for

— The End —