winter

winter Jun 2022

lover

death is a comfort
a childhood friend
it creeps from the horrors
of the dark of night
it weeps for me
curled up on the floor
pens and headphones
drawing their picture
giving them sound

death is a companion
a reminder that I am not alone,
that someone understands
that someone is there
to guide me, when it comes
whenever it comes
it gives me a hand to hold
a body to hug
lips to kiss
a shoulder to cry
it provides
me everything

death is a blanket
a cotton-blended cover
to warm ourselves and
hide our secret deeds
we whisper to each other
in the night, forbidden lovers
and revel cold hot stillness
a beating heart which calms
itself by your
touch

yes, death is a lover
and they've loved me longer
will love me forever
they have seen
everything that I have ever been
every tear that I have shed
every great bursting swell of emotion felt
they have seen it all
and still, they love
like nothing else on earth
like nothing else alive
nothing feels as much
nothing sees as much
nothing swallows and heaves and breathes of understanding as much as
the comfort the companion the blanket the lover
of death
and death
will love me
forever

winter Jun 2022

quantum

my childish nightmares
have started to come to life
creeping around the corner,
down the stairway
dark endless rooms with no doors
to exit or enter
launched into nothing
by an impossible swing

the dark

as death waits outside the window i
can't help but feel it coming back to me
shadows beginning to dance
exactly like they used to
whisping and waltzing
but most of all
watching, waiting
reassuring me that the end is
quite familiar
the end is
a dream
of a long ago girl
so new to life
so close to death
having only spent as much time
as she ever could or will

death is a lot like how it was before you were born

i'm fortunate, in that
i have a good memory
i'm unfortunate, in that
i can remember the pain
the longing
being late to the party
being a whisperer of stars

being so

enveloped

in

the dark

winter Jun 2022

night terror

as children we
look out at the world
with eyes so new and yet
so close were we
to the dark abyss
that hellfire crater
of consciousness

looking at the sun
for the first time
feeling the quick
fleeting flicker of life
before the dark creeps in,
familiar

it may be a nightmare
but it may be just a memory
an understanding of
what came before and
what will come after.
the spark is quick to fade
and the objects given form and
colored by light and pigment
fade with it into nothing
exactly as things
have always been
exactly how we
yearn
to remember

winter Jun 2022

Untitled

please please please
don't comment on my poetry
with a quote from the bible

winter Jun 2022

Untitled

My instagram
flows and flows
pictures and snapshots
at the top of a waterfall
ready for flight
raining down in full
relentless
I do not write when I am happy
I do not write when I am okay
I cannot capture security with words
I take pictures
Here is my cat,
Here is a latte,
Here are my friends,
Here is a cool tree
that reminded me of the one
that stood in the field
of my elementary school
That I cherished and loved
They cut that one down
I couldn't show you a picture
But this one looks quite like it,
don't you see?
And so they flow
Outweighing the scraps
of my written despairs
pouring like paint
to color my memory
of things
that are good
and things
that are okay
into the feeds
the scrolls of squares
they flow

winter Jun 2022

tw

everytime i think abt getting my next job i feel this wild overwhelming urge to kms

winter Jun 2022

Untitled

i am getting to an age
where my suicide means
less and less
the question then becomes
will that help me
or make it worse?