Emma - Hello Poetry

Emma Jun 2013

Nocturne

red taillights graze the asphalt,
                                                           shaving off whatever we thought
                                                                                                            was now.
the violent bloom of neon sanguine
dissolves into the thick darkness,
                                   the dense night sky that the moon slices           through
                                                                                                         straight onto you
                                   (so piercingly it could spark a fire)
                                   just as the silence envelopes me into
                                   bitter and total solitude
                                                                                             I forget to let go, I forget to forget.
Time wraps itself around me and ribbons me with memories, maybe this is all you see when you look at me. Maybe you are waiting to unwrap me. Constellations uncoil and stars dance on the polished marble floor
freely.
effortlessly,
closer.
                                                                       Closer now.

Just as reclusively as the moon, watching the stars occupy her room
as undefined as the horizon swallowing the foggy spheres of red light
and as nostalgically as the night
I wait for you.

Emma Jun 2013

Time falls on me

Instead of a bell jar
I am trapped inside an hourglass
Sand scrapes my skin
unsurfacing memories of
your voice, your eyes,
faded images of me looking into them

Dust rains on me incessantly
eroding the shield I worked so hard to maintain
Drops of you grasp tightly onto me,
your nails are grappling hooks in my skin

The past swells with each dropping grain,
becoming heavier, until
your pulling weight unravels me.

Emma Jun 2013

The ugliest leaf I've ever seen

I had my heart broken
By a boy who likes to pretend
That he never liked me
-- except my heart didn't really break,
because it was never his.

It was more like I was lonely, and he was there
so I let him hold me and, he let me hold him
-- and explained to others that
"this is my way of showing I care, but I don't really, truly care,
I don't love her"
"I don't have feelings for you" --
he told me after he had picked up the phone
this girl called (maybe another me)
I just said I didn't care and stared at the ugliest leaf I've ever seen

So I didn't really have my heart broken
But it's easier to say I did
and more exciting, tragic
more romantic to say I did

Emma Jun 2013

Inflated

"You don't wanna have stiff fingers, you want to feel the flow of
Him in them!
So stretch your fingers."
They said to Oscar.
"You'll be able to feel how vast the blue sky is and how beautiful He is if you do it enough"
And Oscar obeyed. He stretched them, and measured.
He was getting better at it and could feel a sphere of warmth in his hands as they clasped together. The flow was real, it was! His hands
glowed and eyes turned up to the Sky of Promises.
Spring bloomed on the petals of his fingers and at last
Oscar knew what it was like to hold peace in your hands.
Summer drowned him in light and Oscar
spent more time stretching than ever.
The warmth licked his legs as he ran past the world, grazing the bitter asphalt.
The tranquil ball bounced with him and snowballed with heat. Decay sank into plants
and Oscar watched as Cold fed on the soil.
Frosty grass glittered like the asphalt used to in the summer, but
Oscar's sphere got lost on the cold terrain
after he dropped it,
when he saw that the blue sky he had been promised
was not in fact blue at all and that
it would never be infinite.

Emma Apr 2013

She watched

she                                                                           watched curlicues of sweeping clouds, and
        loved                                                                how they painted the sky like van Gogh
                   the                                                         Line of smudged charcoal smoke severed the
                         (sky)                                                blue bodies apart.
                                   when                                     The wind stroked her face.
                                               it                                was cold and woke her up.
                                                     spilled                  Synapse after synapse
                                                                 onto         Dream after dream.
                                                                        the surface of the sun,
                                                                                                 when it was almost, but not quite,
                                                                         drowned by the sea
                                                                                  = the most visible feeling she had seen.

Toying with words.

Emma Apr 2013

Caged

The walls of Hell are moving walls
and Hell is the shell of my body.
I can't escape the monster's calls
because they ring inside me.

The walls of Hell are solid walls
Nothing can pass through them
Imprisoned inside, my heart cries,
and paints my veins with nights passing by

The walls of Hell are silent walls
You'd never suspect them to be
as piercingly violent as they are:
The walls of Hell wrapped around me.

inspired by a nightmare

Emma Apr 2013

Somewhere between us; a wall.

S                  O                   M                   E                  W                   H                   E                   R                  E

U
  between-----between-----between-----between-----between-----between-----between-----between
S

sprouted
a
wall

Hurdling over it used to be fun.
until it grew, and we had to mount it
but even then, the feat of
                                                                                                 g
                                 F                                                   n
                               A                                          i
                                L        &                 b
                                      L             m
                                  I
                                  l      |     N
                                    c          |         G
                                  IT
made me appreciate seeing you more

but now it has
become so big
that our voices
are barely able
to attain the pe
ak; even the m
emories of you
have trouble re
-aching me pa
st the obstacle
that i now see
instead of you
r soft, soft eyes

I miss the touch of your palm against my palm
Now I can only press it against this disdainful and cold brick wall,
hoping that you might be pressing your hand against the same brick,
just on the other side.
hoping that my warmth might eventually sink through to you,
that my rain/tears might corrode the clay
hoping that maybe, maybe, maybe

you will hope the same thing too.