Emma - Hello Poetry

Emma Aug 2018

Clasped

“Please let go of my hand.”
That’s what I say to you.
“Please let me slide into the blue, let my head sink beneath the waves, let me drown, let me rage and scream and break myself and dissolve into so much nothing that I can never be recovered again, and Godwhycan’tyoujustfuckingletgoofmyfuckinghand—“
But I’m the one holding onto you.

#together #depression #hurt

Emma Aug 2018

Grief

I am quiet. Not silent.

It might be hard to understand the difference, but there is one.

Believe me, this once.

I have spoken, screamed, begged, prayed, all of it raw and angry and loud, and it has been too unpalatable for digestion.

Ignored and left behind on plates.

The suffocation of having words lodged in your throat, words that choke you to swallow, choke you to try to speak, because they are horrible.

And then they dribble out of your mouth, leaving behind the foul taste of their wretched shapes, and the putrid stench of those horrible words makes heads turn away.

The words unheard, the wounds unseen.

Except neither of those are true, because I have spoken them within your hearing, I have shown them beneath your eyes.

So not unseen, not unheard, undigested and ignored for your own rotten convenience. Sometimes worse. Questioned and made less of.

I burn brighter than any pit in hell; rage hotter than 5,779 K searing me from the inside out.

The fire could peel me apart, my skin clawing away beneath my fingernails to expose the flames that would set all before me ablaze, the flames that are hidden beneath my bones.

And wouldn’t it be fair? For consequences to finally exist?

I am no longer the same, irrevocably different from that girl who might once have existed, who believed in fairness.

I am hate, and anger, sometimes only this red burning fury, no more. Red that crashes down upon me in unending waves that erode me further each time.

I swish it around in my mouth, considering the taste: defeat. Injustice I must make peace with, rather than repay. Because I can’t. How?

I spoke. You didn’t listen. You didn’t believe.

I feel like this is sort of melodramatic and imperfect, there are parts that clunk, but it was really true when I wrote it and it’s become sort of hard to change. I’d appreciate any feedback.

#grief #anger #abuse

Emma Aug 2018

Draft of a Text

Hey. I miss you. Hope you’re ok. Let me know how you’re doing when you can.

Hey. Hope you’re ok. I miss you. Let me know how you’re doing when you can.

Hey. Hope you’re ok. Let me know how you’re doing when you can. I miss you.

#text #poem

Emma Aug 2018

You

I write you, because the absence of you is still somehow shaped like your presence.

I write you because you overwhelm, overwhelmed my defences and now that my house is underwater there is only air that is not you in the top corner of the attic.

I drift along on the current of you I’ve created, fallen prey to, and wonder if it will ever end.

Or lessen. Abate.

I could let the air leave my lungs and sink down into you as long as I knew that in the water you were wrapped back around me as I was wrapping myself around you.

I drown in your tide and pray that your fire begins to burn less brightly, no longer a flashover combustion but something that lingers long and warm and comforting.

Instead I will macerate away, fasting on air-fulls of you I am convinced are whole meals, and you will fall victim to my incendiary blaze as I go out in nothing akin to glory, and we’ll both stand on opposite sides of a road as we bleed and stare back at each other.

This will only hurt, but the swell of you I sail forth on, carrying in my veins with every waterlogged step, means I can’t stop.

I don’t want to.

#love #romanticfeelings #relationship

Emma Aug 2018

If I Hated You

If I hated you like you think I hate you, you’d be dead.

If I hated you as you think your lungs would cease to inflate, your heart would slow, the blood in your veins icing slowly until it stood still.

If I hated you like you think I hate you, my thoughts would bury you alive, grains of sand tickling against your nose one by one until they came faster and faster still and became an avalanche.

If I hated you how you’re telling everyone I do, faceless men would dog you down dark streets, as you looked over your shoulder, as they slowly closed in, as you realised you weren’t paranoid, as sharp metal flashed in a single glint of moonlight, as your life seeped out onto the street, as you died alone.

If I hated you like you think I hate you, my skin would peel from my body, burnt away by the powerful emotion unable to be contained inside, raw muscles moving and exposed beneath the sun, skeletal sinewy fingers still grasping for you.

If I hated you like you wished I hate you, you’d actually matter to me.

#hate #acrimony

Emma Aug 2018

How Much

There is you, there is you, there is you.

Fear and affection for you fighting a war for dominance that seems to bear no chance of being lost.

Lightness that takes root somewhere along my spine and makes standing easier, more like floating.

I am wary, shadows in corners, but they are of the future, and you are too full in the present for me to fall off the edge of the world, the swell of your horizon blue and limitless.

In this moment, this one, this one, this one

I want to dissolve into you, little else close enough when you beat like hope in the winged eaves of my heart, trapped, both trapped.

I like you so much it *****.

#love #relationship

Emma Aug 2018

Less Than A Haiku

“Wait! Don’t go—“
I do, though.
I leave.

#relationship #disappointment #leave