Dec 2020
in fear, i am a crowded space
you fret over the ethics of it, and roast the turkey anyway
do you understand what i am trying to say?
i learnt how to swim, so i should be over this drowning
see, when things get all night-timed and dream-eyed
i know i can love and be loved
it radiates warmth, this old star blanket
like the feeling that comes with a hug
and this is the coldest month of the year, you know
some days i escape just to know there's a sun
an overbearing, godly thing on fire
so i'd rather risk my lungs, submerged
and the sun is so wrong i come back to it all:
the darkness, nerves, the dead bird
and the things i should know, that i don't
so when you say fire will keep me warm,
do you not see how that burns?
you fret over the ethics of it, and roast the turkey anyway
do you understand what i am trying to say?
i learnt how to swim, so i should be over this drowning
see, when things get all night-timed and dream-eyed
i know i can love and be loved
it radiates warmth, this old star blanket
like the feeling that comes with a hug
and this is the coldest month of the year, you know
some days i escape just to know there's a sun
an overbearing, godly thing on fire
so i'd rather risk my lungs, submerged
and the sun is so wrong i come back to it all:
the darkness, nerves, the dead bird
and the things i should know, that i don't
so when you say fire will keep me warm,
do you not see how that burns?
there's something off about my recent poems. i wonder if it's something i'm doing to try to fit some type of way of writing them? i love what i'm re-reading when i go through them, but there's something not right. don't know what it is, and i won't know. maybe it's the subject matter getting stale. i need to get out of my comfort zone.
