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Panoply Mar 2020
one day someone will love you

he will remove your shirt
his hands will move over your skin
soft, fragile fingertips, safe, warm touch
you will sigh and he will enjoy the sound and sight of you
unfurling before him

my mistakes that clog my skin
my anger a bitter, pulsing monster
my love a ****** ****,
but shouldn't it be me to rip the buttons of your shirt
let it fly to the floor
breathe in your skin
admire the view of your eyes closing as i
trailed red kisses over you

shouldn’t it be me who knew you better than he could?
and yes, i am not your typical lover
but i cannot imagine you’d want him
to be intimate with someone who could barely love you,
a tepid version of the love i would make you feel,
i’d let smiles overwhelm our intimacy,
but it will be him, not me, touching your skin like it's golden
you’ll never know that my love is heaven and skies,
and his is merely a shiny fracture of the sunlight i could give you

yet despite my desperate tries of declaring this all
you turn your head away from the sun, me, too bright
and crawl to your comfort, when you could stride to my sunlight
you will shiver in the shadows of his love
instead of basking in the heat of mine
???
Jan 2020 · 112
bruised sun
Panoply Jan 2020
and i can’t stop love from happening
and yet i’m waiting for it to arrive
i wish i was sailing through
but i’m bruising the sun
begging to get burnt
still the light hovers for a second,
and then im shrowded in cold
and dark.
and so i fell in love with the moon
with you-
and oh how dreadful and how beautiful that was
Nov 2019 · 221
i fear i have become them
Panoply Nov 2019
the light in my heart flickers
there is an eerie echo in my ribcage
it is deathly silent
i hold my breath, waiting
to see if the footsteps coming closer
will emerge
waiting to see who i will become
the jaws who raised me, raised me well
taught me lash out,
and i shiver in pleasure at gashes so now
i want to take your heart and crush it
like glass, smash it against the wall,
until the blood and me and you
crash together. catostrophe.
the word feels like a welcome to me
a welcome mat i rubbed my shoes on
until the soles of my feet were imprinted
with red, until i walked upon the dead,
until every step i took was upon
violence. i know the smell of it
so well i could i taste it.

so ****,
who will i be?
the monster i am so regularly?
the monster i am so scared of
at the bruised soles of my feet
and my ****** fingertips.
i am scared that the mirror shows who i really am
that i really have become as callous as them
and though scorch the light, i burn myself the most
perhaps i need a plaster and some water
maybe then i can be someone happy
pretend to be someone
who didn’t have monster’s necks craning over their crib when they were a child
eyes wide and hungry, ready to devour the good,
and infect with the everlasting, swirling darkness
Nov 2019 · 211
Untitled
Panoply Nov 2019
with my head in the clouds
i wonder when I’ll hurtle back down
into the godforsaken ground
where most people live
with reality, safe and sound
yet me, i liked to dream impossibly
of how my mother’s sharp edges
would melt into soft clay
of how arms clad with armour
would cradle me, make me calmer
or how someone would look at me
and be desperate to see my vulnerability
as if i was a painting in a museum that
they wanted to look at endlessly
Oct 2019 · 135
more
Panoply Oct 2019
beg me to stay
want me enough
to step over the lines of politeness
need me so much you don't care about who you were
only who you want to be with me
Aug 2019 · 516
bruise
Panoply Aug 2019
they want me to be happy
or else i’ll spoil the mood
so I pour the drink right over
tonight i'll be messy and rude
spin a bottle, bruised lips on hers
“come with us,” they murmur
as they beg me to get ink
so after downing a drink i
ride the bus with windows open
letting the poison air in
past watercolour rain
on buildings with bloodstains
the sky looks so numb
and “let us have a little fun”
stumble on the sidewalk
i like the way you talk
tattoos, we’ll regret
“light a cigarette”
you’ll choke
but not to death
we’re living life
always on the edge
this poem is really cringey and ****** but idc
Jul 2019 · 217
never
Panoply Jul 2019
it is already too much to be in love
but in love with you?
that is a crime

for a while, I will get wrapped up
in the possibilities of it all
my eyes will flicker
i will remember how impossible
my dreams really are
...unrequited
Apr 2019 · 146
be the
Panoply Apr 2019
the only person i want to be in the world
is the person that you love
and i can’t even be that.
Mar 2019 · 273
italy
Panoply Mar 2019
You once sat down on the wooden deck - actually many times - you and I.
Outside that old Italian shop - your father built it? And Nemo lived there. The cat.
And you muttered something about the moon eclipsing the sun - darling, what a metaphor


I strolled back there when the sky was grey - how do you tell if someone loved you
If they no longer love you - and you were six feet under - i couldn’t bear to sit alone,
Shivering, the remains of us in a ball of black and white fur curling around my feet
And it was cold, and there was a cat, so I guess i was not alone. So I sat.
A newspaper rustled
Inside my heart - of course, we were made of iron until you left me and i melted away
Into thin paper.


The deck was still thickly painted brown, and fresh England surrounds me but this Italy was an escape.
A cat by my feet so no excuse to go - and I’d never seen an eclipse but i felt one in my heart
A shadow in my rib cage, over the red pulsing thing, the size of my first,
The sky was still obviously grey and my heart thumping red and you always dead.
you have no capacity to love or smile - or breathe. And so I cannot ask you
If your heart was eclipsed by me. Were you - in love? Can i ask such a question
When you are six feet under, my darling, where is the sun? it seems to have been buried
With you in the grave. The cat had always been there when he visited the shop.
Your father? I don’t think he built it. Sometimes i am convinced we built that refuge out
Of nothing but stardust and wrinkles - was it real, my darling?


Time slips as i sit on the deck. Beneath me. You are beneath the ground.
Why does everything remind me of you and your laugh? The cat meows and I am
Bought back again. The past tugs me from the present and i tug myself back
A constant war. Treasure of my heart, there is nothing left in this place.

You have turned your arm to the stars in my memories
And i can recall the constellations, just like your name.
Jun 2016 · 378
Listening For Echos
Panoply Jun 2016
Freind,
I listen for the echoes of the memories
But all  I hear are
the tears
the fears

Friend,
I listen for the echoes of the promises
But all I hear are
the broken hearts
the shattered parts

Friend,
I listen for the echoes of the secrets
But all I hear
the fights
the wrongs and the rights

Friend,
I listen for the echoes of your jokes
But all I hear are
the rude words
The things we heard

You're under the ground
Rotting away
Suffocating

The echoes of your chokes
Make me suffocate
Not a personal experience

— The End —