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Poetria Mar 1
I was born with a fork in my tongue, raised on a language that could never be home to
a girl with a mouth full of shark teeth,
who, down to the bone,
tears through anything sentient,
with jaws of a weight you wouldn't suppose
for a girl with the faintest of rose and full cheeks,
the blush of a filthy fair conqueror.

the day I was born saw a transfer of life
I was born with the light from my mother's eyes
To be continued
Poetria Nov 2021
mother, i am waiting for the sun to fall out of this picture
i am waiting for your laughter's collapse
when you go, what happens to the dream?
the one in which you don't burn everything you touch,
the one in which i don't have to run from your love

when you go, take this dream
to lie with you forever
and i will watch as wildflowers grow around your stone
a garden born from you
of children who won't run,
one final, beautiful redemption

mother, i will meet you where the ground keeps us sweet
under the sun's golden glow, i swear i won't run from the heat
promise me a smile when it's time to take your leave
and i promise i will honour you in golden memory
my love for my mother and my need to protect myself from her is a conflict i can never win. what would winning that even look like?
Poetria Oct 2021
in a poem at the table

a masterpiece of lies in love

his composition celebrates your downfall


these are my traitors hands

two silver, hooked offenders

dipping into the well of you


this is my gentle sin

his promise, unfulfilled

the plan: my pirate's map, his cruel hunt


your puppet smile is straining


his words, a loaded gun


your flower heart is wilting


my wicked work is done.
watch me never do justice to a pirate metaphor ;)
Poetria Oct 2021
hearts are pounding on my window
i sit in my skull, miserable smoke
there is no real thunder anymore
just my machinations, crippling the doors

i have choked on this poem too many times
i have loathed it each night since the sting of July
i am leaping through time to find someone to love
without stabbing my way through her skin to feel something

would you wait a few years for somebody so stuck?
would you sit with the shell of a girl you once loved?
i pay in patience for this world, a cost that always comes
i can't disinfect these splinters without smothering the sun

a dull fog, a dark cloud, an omen that grows
the more that it swells, the less i seem to know
i miss my own love with an ache i can't date
i miss the story of the girl that i could have been
i sat down to write because i felt the need to. i didn't expect to realise that i am so scared to be close to anyone, to love anyone in any form as truly as i know i can because i have never recieved in my relationships the love i give back to myself so freely, every forgiveness, every kindness. i also realised i cannot love anyone truly until i learn to love myself better. but i am so lonely. i am isolating from everybody i know with a dull awareness about it all. i can feel my friemdships slipping between my fingers. i am watching, letting it happen, pushing for it a little because only i know how to hurt myself best. why am i doing it? a thousand reasons and not one i can name. bottling and not sorting and living here in this house hoping to write something that strays from the topic of me, and my hurt, and those who hurt me, and the hurt in the world, and the hurt and the hurt and the hurt. i want to write a poem so rich in flavour but i write a variation of the same thing every time. i think i should find a way soon to give me the desire to live again. i think i want to disconnect but i am so scared of becoming the people i live with. i think i don't know what i want. this poem is nothing special but i'm surprised to find myself liking it.
Poetria Aug 2021
carve yourself a fresh wound
between your shoulder blades
this is how your blood transfers to me:
hot steel draining into these canals uninvited

fallen angel named a saint in his glory days
i carry the burden of the fire that you are
light in the sky my feet bleed to outrun
i suffer from the weight of my misjudgment

man is a god: all-consuming, and unburnt
a self-fulfilling knife, and a pacemaker pulse
with you, religion ends and my faithlessness begins
infliction serves to aggravate this ruined innocence

your ruthlessness is heaven-sent and eating me alive
you are the cause of everything, are too the cause despite

i look to you in blame, but it circles back to me
that traitorous, inevitable, infinite shape
man is a god: unrepenting, but forgiven
there is no version of this story i could ever win
i realised that you do not always get to decide what you are defined by: and i am defined by this hatred, whether by choice or by consequence, or both. you do not choose who your father is, you can only choose how to make sense of what he's done. he will be so deeply woven into your flesh by the time you can see it for yourself, and by then you are already in the aftermath
Poetria Aug 2021
this place is all bullets and plastic wrap
you are a space for which i am glad

you are a million moons changing,
beacon in the fog
staying light just the same,
holding on in the dark

your blanket with sleeves is a warmth that i seek
your comfort, like chocolate, is endlessly sweet

until the next song, until the next start
put me in your pockets, hold onto my heart

softer shades and falling leaves,
you are a reckoning that came out clean
i modified a poem i wrote for my dearest friend mahnoor 2 years ago. in a city so cruel, and a place that's been ruined for me in memory, she was the light. she has always been a source of sweetness for me and nothing but. to cultivate a friendship so strong with her is something i want to always get better at doing. there is truly nobody as good and kind and as much of an angel. blanket with sleeves is in reference to the blanket with sleeves she owns and i envy :( she gave me chocolates for my birthday & when i met her in 2019 at her house she had this cute plate of small chocolates prepared. i have taken notes and will steal the idea. her name means moonlight so i will always associate her with the moon more than anything else. what i wanted to tell her in this poem was initially that i am so glad to be able to call her my friend and for her to choose me to be by her side after all of this time and after any times i've wronged her is something i value more than i ever say. the last line is borne out of a time where i took my friendships for granted, and doubted them, and honestly, i think the reckoning that (to my relief) came out clean should be me instead. i do love to have tunnel vision though. not to dwell on the past, though. i just love her so much and promise to write a better poem than this for her one day!! and we dont count the other poem i titled friend and wrote with u in mind because its just very insecure and i dont like it
Poetria Jul 2021
wake up, dark cloud
eyes ache the worst when they are red

sun is somewhere we can't reach it
how do i write about this?

my mind supplies me with lavender fields,
anything beautiful

cruelty, rage, the side of your face
how do i write about this?

a dream, a hug, a poem; the alto, the M2, the mall
desert to oasis, any day now

your wings of chrome in shreds, in shards
the glitter on this road

waiting for the day to close,
horizon's coloured sob

how long until you reach for it?
the end
the title is a song by sufjan stevens
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