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Yanamari Oct 2020
And some strings feel more beautiful
Under a night sky
Just like some strings feel more beautiful
Reflecting the sun's rays
So that when the sun passes through the sky
And the earth continues on its path
The string loses its beauty
And it is still beautiful
But to the passing of time,
And under a different light
The string almost dances a different tune,
Even if really, a string never changes when untouched.
And if the time has passed
And beauty fades away
Should one part ways
With a string that once shone warm and peaceful
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, strings in the hand of the owner, value in the heart of each person; differing between each soul.
Yanamari Oct 2020
Strings interwoven
Surrounding me
Spacious yet brushing
Against my torso and thighs
Suspended on spun strands years old
I can only
Gently glide my finger tips
Along strings floating by
I cannot hate
Only hurt
An unconditional detachment towards
The way they surround me
I am careful not to cut the intricate plaits, even if I have subconsciously done and continue to do so
For a cut in the lines that hold together
My reality are delicate,
Best understood when each small length is given its value and attention
But I worry;
If my world is strung
Then a lifetime may not be enough
To untwist each weave
To its barest of selfs
And then twist together
A new piece that surrounds me
Warmly and peacefully
Yanamari Oct 2020
Me
It all makes sense
Sense that I knew but
Never really delved into
My staying up at night
My hollow heart
And my lonesome
It all makes sense
Almost as if to rub it in my face
And maybe its too much
The way it all fits together
The way it makes me me
The way I know I don't want it but I can't find it in me to care
And I'm sat latching onto the little warmth I feel in this cold
It was supposed to be warm, but what is supposed to be?
And it hurts that the more realisations I have, the more I realise that maybe
There are things in the world that
I can never have
I would want want want, but I wouldn't find it within me
What am I supposed to be
To do





I'm trying but what point is there in trying if the end result is the same
Yanamari Sep 2020
I only want wings when the winds are strong
I only feel cold when the turmoil in my mind and heart are overwhelming
I only lay in the non-newtonian black substance so that I don't have to
Deal with everything
I'm sick of these beliefs that remain rooted in my mind
So deeply rooted they've upheaved whatever parts that used to rest in my heart,
Wasted away any comfort my heart had left in it

And maybe I'd want wings to see the skies
And feel the cold because I genuinely miss it's sensation
And lay in non-newtonian substances to explore the feeling of it
But I question where the drive of my curiousity left to;
If it had escaped before it was forcibly ripped from my heart or
If it decayed and it's rot continues to fester in my heart

These feelings of mine I want to respect...
How do you respect the body you only know how to leave
Yanamari Sep 2020
I stand facing my reflection
Gaze acting as a barrier
I would reach forward to reach you
But I hesitate lest you withdraw from my touch
My heart clenched and my eyes hold back
And if I could comfort you, if the warmth of my heart could reach you
We would be one
And yet whisps and words trace their fingers along my mind
Humming a tune my mind and heart fall into step with uneasily
And she strokes my face to will my heart and mind out of the tune
But the tune is continuous, seeded and unwavering
Yanamari Sep 2020
Before waltzing together
To the melody of the
Blue moon
I danced alone.
Independent and yet feeling.

And then a gap developed
And grew
Large enough for
The space of two
And so I filled it with
The shine of
The Blue moon.

The Blue moon is my
Melody, love and solace
Whilst my body halts
To disallow the hole to
Grow larger.
To feel is to rip the hole
Wider.
And so feel,
I cannot.
The waltz was always
Mellow,
Almost melancholic;
And so it so easily
Unstrung - snapped.

Frozen over

The dance paused for
A few months.
Then the music began to play
So did the light
And I
Saw him
In the distance
Flitting in and out,
But remained
A dance partner.

While I swayed along with
The fluctuating notes
Others danced close by
And once I realised they'd left
And would not again
Dance close by
I shrunk back
Once again
Dancing alone

Frozen - crack.

And then he stepped back and
She came.
The water still dripping
Along her arms
We waltzed.
All too familiar
And yet she
Still withdrew
My hands unmoving,
Floating in the air
Where she would be.

And whilst neither left
Our synergy left me
And so my waltz -
In the rays that filter through
The cracks in the roof -
Is steady even when
The light flickers.

The gentle caress of your fingers
I won't forget
For your essence is still there
Even if only in
The Blue Moon
To be honest I've forgotten/not 100% sure what the blue moon refers to but I like this poem so im making it public

Pers Ref(?): 2011ίe-mIDTh1ef

Mar 1 2020

Edit: funny post note that I remembered is that in high school I had a dream I was talking to my sister in a warped version of my house under a crack in the roof of my house. There was one moon and four massive stars (the size of suns when you see the sun during the day), the stars travelling in a circle which had a point where the stars would pass over the moon. Once the stars would pass over the moon, it was I think the stars that would shine brighter (and possibly the moon as well?). And so I may or may not have been thinking about the crack in the roof from that dream... but I wouldn't doubt that the verse about the crack in the roof was just a random instinctual touch that came to mind that felt right in the moment.
Yanamari Sep 2020
"Whatever tickles your pickles"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night"
Words that dance with the
Clenching of my heart as I choose my actions
Engage to disengage
And yet each hover of my finger,
Each moment spent amongst the heavy swirling in my heart and stomach;
Thoughts clinging to what can't be
Hoping
Thoughts cutting deeper to sever what I can never have

This time instead breathe in
As my finger hovers, that is all that happens
If it was meant to be it would be
They are not what matters in the moment,
Not more than you
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