Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
EC Pollick Sep 2022
My favorite Irish poet
has a poem
called Chugat.

Which means "To you".

And my favorite three lines maybe ever written

translate to

"salvage your heart
never say I left you
say I drowned".

It basically describes my thoughts on love.
slánaigh do chroí
ná habair gur thréigas thú
abair gur bádh mé

https://truthofnostalgia.tumblr.com/post/30406152258/chugatto-you-by-michael-davitt
EC Pollick Sep 2022
I think I'm leaning into the "I don't give a ****" vibe REAL hard.

A part of me is like stop being a problem, but then the other part of me is well, isn't everyone else the problem.

I think the latter is true.

Men have done this to us. I used to not think this way. There are good men in this world. But I can count them on one hand.

And now we believe the lie that they're good. That they love us.
And then go to the dive bar, get drunk, make **** jokes, maybe put their hand on our legs, abandon their children and make us feel like absolutely ******* nothing.

So I think the next time I talk to this chick. It might come out that I go "CAN WE NOT".

And It might be me saying "everyone else is willing to lie to you but I just can't do it anymore."

And you know what, I'm going to be the villain. I'm going to be the *******.

And I might be hated.

But I'm also right.

I think I'm better suited being right than hated so maybe I just don't care.

Because if you live it, and you suffer and you do nothing about it.

Aren't  you just as bad as them.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th7euZ30wDE
EC Pollick Sep 2015
Out of nowhere, a message in a bottle.
The letter that never came
finally arrived.

I waited for that letter for six years.
And as soon as I got it,
I realized I hadn’t been waiting for it
for a while now.

The way is shut.

You know what you do when a ghost comes back into your life?
You remember it’s a ghost. It’s unliving. It’s not real.
And you move on.
EC Pollick May 2015
There's a comfort that your own demise is in your own hands.
That someone else started digging it for you,
but you'll finish the **** job.

The graveyard calls
And I want to be a part of it.
No giant scythe scares me
I reap what I sow too.

Nicotine or alcohol
pumping the body full of unnatural things
or just pining over things lost and unfound.
Either way
Just killing yourself more slowly
Than the guy who just decided to jump one day.

No instant fix, just the long-awaited digging
And feeling steel separate the Earth
Muscles tensing
Flexing
Shovel down,
Scoop
Lift
Toss
Do it again.

I never bothered to fix that hole in my heart
because I don't even wanna go near it anymore.
It will just be there.
And I will just keep digging.

Just when I think I should stop
I still
Just Keep digging.
EC Pollick Jan 2015
You snaked your way into my life,
You can slither yourself out.
I'm not always this righteous, but when I am, *******.
EC Pollick Dec 2014
Storage for things I need but not right now.
Can I put my love there?

It's something I will not put away forever.
I'm proud of the mistakes I've made and the glory of love I've lived and died with.
But there's a time to carry my love with me--right next to me--
And a time to store it in the overhead cabin.

I'm a function of 21st Century pragmatism:
Where you don't have to put love away,
you can travel with it.
As your carry-on.

And as I make this decision
to stow my love away
Three feet above my head
I know one day
someday
My love will be sitting right next to me
as we take to the skies.
Southwest 369
EC Pollick Aug 2014
He builds robots
with his bare hands.
He takes the wrenches
and the electronics
and the nuts and bolts
and makes out of nothing
Something.

And even though I don’t even know him.
I think I may love him a bit.

I think about
How he puts things together that weren’t connected ever before.
Fixing that which is broken
Or unmade
Or seemingly unfixable.
And proving the world wrong when this man-made machine
is just as alive as the rest of us.

The discarded
are made
into something with a renewed sense of purpose.
Proving recycling as a totally viable concept
[and not just a fad hippies whine about]
Right before your very eyes.

And as I watch him explain
High level mechanics
to the English majors like me,
I think about my broken heart
and the inability to truly love anyone in the last five years of my life
And I think

Maybe
There’s someone out there
Who can finally fix that.
Seriously, Robotics are ****.
Next page