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Jan 2017 · 721
pluie d'été Jan 2017
he blew a kiss to me
across the garden
I thought that I felt it land on my cheek
but it must have landed on
the sunset instead

The stars were beautiful that night
Apr 2016 · 922
pluie d'été Apr 2016
What I am about to say
Will save you
From a great sadness

1. Don't ever caress your broken heart in your hands
The blood will stain your finger tips scarlet
And be imprinted on the next person you hold.

2. Don't succumb
To the comforting grey side
Of Sadness
I know its warm. I know its safe.
But its only all those things
Because darling,
It will never leave.

3. Don't keep things hidden.
Who are you?
How can you even think of not being the main character of your story?

4. Don't read books about girls being left behind, and about boys dying
Or about people who are too afraid
Or too courageous
Or whose main characters are liars
Who come alive when you look into
Their eyes.

5. Don't let your heart pull away from him
Because you feel like
"You love him too much"
He won't understand why
You are holding his heart
And your own.

6. Don't start writing when you are sad.
The ink won't be able to run from your fingers when you are happy
And you will be left without the words you have
Become addicted to-

You will hold your heart in your hands
And you will pick at its stitches to feel
And your heart will bleed
And it will stain your fingertips red.

You will reach out to him,
And your will leave scarlet smears across his cheek
And his chest
And his wrist
And no matter how many times
You kiss
The stain will stay

And you will
Wrap yourself in the soft grey
And the Sadness will swear
To always stay
And you will feel loved
Because it will never leave.

And you will start to hide it-
The warm grey
The phone call
An opinion
The fight you had
The tears and words
That want to come out

And you will turn to books
Not to escape
But to learn
About other
I's and hers and hims
And their words will come out
Black and white
The next time
He whispers
'I love you' in your ear.

And then you will start to pull away
You love him too much
And that means he is going to leave
And he will look at you and see
That you have his heart
And your heart
But it will be too late for him to
Have kept yours
And it will be too late for you to keep his.

And suddenly
It will be Saturday night
And he will still be yours
But it will feel like he's
And you will pull the thread

Of soft grey.
Feb 2016 · 444
pluie d'été Feb 2016
It is infinite
The way we breathe and feel
But inescapable

Hold out eight fingers
To trace the outline
Of my ribs
Fall on your side

The universe is
A mystery to you

But it’s far too small
For me
Feb 2016 · 898
pluie d'été Feb 2016
and it was universal
the way we fell in love with feelings
and dark eyes


it was never supposed to be easy
but sometimes
when you smile against my lips
or trace my ribs
and i feel
your laugh
against the palm of my hand

it's the easiest thing
in the world
Jan 2016 · 443
pluie d'été Jan 2016
How can one die
From sadness
When one is made from it?
Dec 2015 · 430
pluie d'été Dec 2015
I do not believe in words
Running away
And painting a picture of
Yellow and Sunday smiles

I do not want to read the words
Defining a photograph
I feel that I must know
What they say already

I am looking everywhere
For the words that will save me '
With their silence
But I cannot bare to read
Any longer
Dec 2015 · 795
Insomnia is a Dream
pluie d'été Dec 2015
is only a dream

Time moves
So slowly

The mouse no longer
Runs up the clock
The mouse no longer leaps

Gazing across an expanse of white
(it's not the ceiling, my darling
it's the antarctic
upside down)

Breathing in time
with the wind

Why are your eyes hurting
If they are closed?
pluie d'été Oct 2015
What do you write to the saddest girl in the world?
Do you write about the beauty in the moon
The way its reflection
Stains the waves white?

Do you write about the way the rain
Falls on the surface
Of the water
And how it looks from underneath
Dancing with the oxygen
You exhale

Do you write about the wind
Non- existant leaves?

Do you tell her
About your cheeks stinging
When the sky is grey
And how it feels to have drizzle
Falling across your closed eyes?

Do you tell her about the little boys
Who pick flowers
Just to see her smile
Or the girls who spend minutes
Writing her name?

What do you tell the saddest girl in the world?

Do you tell her
That everything is infinite
Or that it is necessary
For all things great
To end?

Do you tell her
About the flowers
You see
And the smiles
You can no longer count

Or do you tell her about the flowers
That lose their petals when she
Forgets their beauty
And the people who fade away
When all she sees
Is grey

Do you tell her
When you miss her smile
Or do you kiss the tears
Off her cheeks
And dance with her
Across the bed
With rumpled sheets
And lines
And lines
Of sunlight

Do you tell her
That you love her
Without her sadness
(God, I hope you do)
But with it too

Or will you
Never tell her
The way she never tells you
And will you keep
The receipt
That she had written
About never telling the person you love
The most

How much you love them.
Sep 2015 · 822
pluie d'été Sep 2015
we were answers once
but then we left
and became questions
Sep 2015 · 374
pluie d'été Sep 2015
I thought that you were freedom
But the words you murmur against the palm of my hand

They're beginning to taste
Like a cage
Sep 2015 · 630
pluie d'été Sep 2015
You are wind
And the colour grey
You are a composition played on a piano

A cloud
A drop of rain
A torrent
A ray of sunshine
Your shadow

You are the azure sky
A millimetre of the ocean.

You are thunder and lightning
Racing in your effort to catch light with sound
And sound with light
When the echo drags out too long

You are winter
And you are spring

Nothing and everything
A contrast
And a similarity
You are the opposite of me
But the same as me

Hold the stars
Against my lips
Whisper how everything is ending
How everything is an infinity

Touch me
With your warm hands
Make me shiver
From the cold

You are a symphony
And you are silence

We are infinite
We are saying good bye
Aug 2015 · 495
pluie d'été Aug 2015
calm down
his hands slip over my lips
the tips of his fingers
trace my jaw

close your eyes
open them

i do

his hand moves down
i feel your bones
your skin feels
like air

why are you so cold?
Aug 2015 · 327
pluie d'été Aug 2015
There was once a boy who was so in love with a girl that he forgot her.
He forgot her eyes
Glittering like the sea
And her lips
Curved like a scarlet bow

The freckles across her nose
And her arms
He forgot the shapes of each one-
The constellations that they made

Her scent
Her skin against his
So smooth that it felt like nothing
Her cool hands
That burnt her in summer

He forgot the way to felt to hold her
In his arms
Pressed to his chest
The way he voice sounded
In the morning
At noon
In the evening
The fluidity of her laugh
The sadness in the way she held his hand
And the change in her heart beat
Against his fingertips

He loved her so much
That he forgot her

He stares at me
Across the room
Save me
Save me
He shoves words down his throat
Until he can’t see
And he covers his eyes
Until he can’t breathe
Aug 2015 · 343
pluie d'été Aug 2015
there are thunderstorms
and rain

i swear i can hear
the jasmine
opening under my window

there is the roar of the ocean
a hundred instruments in harmony
only one

your voice is still my
favourite sound
Aug 2015 · 297
pluie d'été Aug 2015
Aren't you the One
With your coffee eyes
And your trembling laugh

Hold me
To your ribs
I feel your smile
Against the palm of my hand

Aren't you the One
With your teasing hands
And your calming arms
The sunlight
Reflecting off your eyes

Aren't you the One
With your sleepy murmurs
Against my neck
Your kisses up my wrist
Wake me

Aren't you the One
Who saves me
And ruins me

You have my forgiveness
Without even an apology
Aug 2015 · 596
pluie d'été Aug 2015
She woke up
Not in the morning
Not in the middle of the night

She woke up
Not with a fright
And not in tears

She woke up
Not with him
Not alone

She woke up
To silence
And sound

Hum a song for her
Against her neck
Feel her pulse

Catch her ribs
Against yours
Trace them
Until they stay

Don’t let the sounds
Slipping through the lips
You kiss
So hungrily
Starving and
Get away

They are not
A part of your dream
Cover her eyes
Before she moves
Don’t let her
Let the light in
Aug 2015 · 459
pluie d'été Aug 2015
I thought that we were tired
Of grey clouds and words
That burnt our lungs
Like smoke

I thought that we were tired
Of illusions
And ignorance
I see it all
In your eyes

It hurts less
To see the world
As painful
It hurts more
To see its beauty

Swallow the sky whole
Take it down
With a few stars

Count the heart beats
You feel through my shirt
On one hand

Kiss me
Like you don’t mean it
Smile and say how much you love me
Like you do

I can hear your honesty
Like the thunder behind
An azure sky
Jul 2015 · 623
pluie d'été Jul 2015
we will all stop writing poetry
because everything we write
becomes true
and our pens don't stop bleeding
Jul 2015 · 271
I Don't.
pluie d'été Jul 2015
I don’t like the taste of my tears
I don’t know where they come from
And I don’t know how they are made
Jan 2015 · 484
pluie d'été Jan 2015
"Are you tired of me?"

the train passes, and the windows rattle against their frames
the silence it leaves is deafening

she doesn't know if he heard her question or not
he turns the page of the newspaper without looking up
his hair still damp from the shower he took and the white sunlight
warms the accents of his skin


his phone rings beside him, and he holds up a finger


he gets up, slides the patio door shut behind him

the sweater he is wearing is the same colour
of the sky the day
they had their first kiss

it is juxtaposed
against the grey clouds

she moves from the door way
puts the kettle on

her hands tremble as she rests them
on the cold counter

the counter is holding her up

she can hear his voice
she misses it
she can hear it
she still misses it

the door slides
and squeaks
he promised to fix it
a week ago

she keeps her back to him
reaches for the tea ***
the loose leaves

she hears him sit down

she stops

the newspaper rustles

she closes her eyes

the clock ticks

her heart beats

he coughs

her heart stops

the kettle whistles on the stove
she waits

he gets up
and turns off the gas

"Weren't you going to get that?"

she moves away
the  sliding door open and closes
complains once

the air is icy against her skin

she looks behind her

he is sitting down
Jan 2015 · 326
pluie d'été Jan 2015
there is a poem i started
with the first letter of your name
it's not very long

the only word worth seeing
and poem worth hearing
is your name
Jan 2015 · 351
with the fingers he kissed
pluie d'été Jan 2015
I haven't written anything
For so long

Press the pages
Of my journal to my face
Close my eyes
Inhaling familiarity

Absent words,
do you remember me?

The ink that once stained
My fingertips
Are trapped
And molded
By another person's thoughts
And feelings

Stream down
White walls
Grey walls
No walls

They race down me
Raindrops with less meaning
Puddle at my feet
My loves
And become Him

His smile, and eyes
And His words
Make them the way
They were that night

Can you do that
Black and white?

Look at her
The girl in the mirror
With a small flame
Smouldering behind
Grey fear
And separate the colours
With the fingers He kissed
Dec 2014 · 338
your kisses.
pluie d'été Dec 2014
We were drowning
So rapidly
That night

I have to remember
That I don't merely need
Your kisses to breathe
Dec 2014 · 307
pluie d'été Dec 2014
It's easy to be disappointed
In happiness
Dec 2014 · 425
It's okay
pluie d'été Dec 2014
It's never okay to say
After you
Is it?

You let your words
Run out of you
Painted navy
And black
With some ignorance
Taint the clarity
Of oxygen

Cutting our lungs
When we try to breathe

When I say
It's not okay
You crowd me
Trying to force my ideas to surrender
Tortured by claustrophobia

Your Hate is a blanket
It's not the same
But I should let you
Get away with it
Shouldn't I?

It doesn't feel okay
My conscience gasps
And shudders
With what is left
Of my soul

But it has to be
Nov 2014 · 494
pluie d'été Nov 2014
it's rain, it's snow

you swear that the sunlight
is as cold
as the wind

as loud
as the fiercest thunderstorm

and as still
as the mirror
held up against the blue
blue sky

but it's not
and you still lied
when you said it wasn't
always warm
Nov 2014 · 464
pluie d'été Nov 2014
You keep swearing
That the world is false

But if you are honest
And so am I
How can it
All be a lie?
Nov 2014 · 462
pluie d'été Nov 2014
all the best things
it seems
end abruptly

a thunderstorm in summer
when the clouds suddenly disappear
and the sun starts to shine

the book containing missing pages
that will never be filled
by the author
who died
in his sleep

the sunset
falling behind the ocean
and covered by the streaming
black ink
of night

the shooting star
that you saw
before the wish
you wanted to whisper
could tumble from your lips

the song
missing the last chorus
that shattered
into a thousand pieces
of silence

the sentence
you always started
but could never finish

the phone call
that dies
in the dead of night

your birthday
lasting the swiftest
twenty four hours
why does it have to end
at 12am
(when i wasn't born at midnight?)

this poem would
if i were brave enough

but i'm not
so i'm ending

on you
Nov 2014 · 541
pluie d'été Nov 2014
Sometimes I hold my hands
Out of my bedroom window
To feel the rain
Dance across my skin

Its music
Is the wind
And it moves me
Like the most beautiful
Nov 2014 · 669
pluie d'été Nov 2014
There was once a girl
Who loved the rain
And a boy
Who loved the sun

They met one day
In the drunken moonlight
Fireflies fell from the trees
Burning out before dawn

His hands were warm
And her's were cold

They breathed in unison
Their eyes flickering
Against the sinking sky

"You make my heart race."
He said.
"You make my heart slow."
She whispered.

The sunlight stabbed the night
And the moon fell
Out of sight
Pulling down
A thousand clouds

"Kiss me,"
He demanded.
And she did.
Nov 2014 · 297
pluie d'été Nov 2014
my fingers move across the letters
feel the ridges
and the spaces between the slightly
rounded squares

q a s p y u e i o c f d

the keys don't make the words
i want them to
or say the things
i mean them to

g j o d f p f s f w e d k f j o g ?

i want to write
the most important sentence
to have ever slipped out
of my fingertips
but my mind keeps on
and the clock on the wall downstairs
keeps on

p o h j l d e m y u i

i am a history book
that's almost twenty one years old
and i feel like i hold
a thousand empty pages
ready to disintegrate
with the next farewell

o p h k l o m n y r i c d

the shadows of my thoughts
fill the spaces in my mind
and make my heart jump
at the clarity
and i wish i could write
fast enough
to catch the words i want to fold
and press to
your warm heart
but then i would be
as perfect as you think i am
and a lie

g n o b m h l o w t

i am afraid of your eyes
and the way your smile
has begun to hesitate

forgive me if i am wrong
and if i leave
before you can say goodbye
Nov 2014 · 289
pluie d'été Nov 2014
it's sad
my love
when you laugh

and it's sad
my love
when you lie

and lately
you've been doing both of them
pluie d'été Oct 2014
we used to hold out
for the one we love
(it was easy for a while, wasn't it?)

it's 6:45 and i am as uncertain
as a summer thunderstorm
(am i allowed to kiss you
if i only think that i love you?)

i don't want to be in your head
and i don't want you
to tell me
everything you feel
unless you heart
aches to
(but are you always thinking of me?)

you trace my body
with your trembling hands
made of words
your eyes
scarring me indefinitely
(i should wish to know
when we think)

you stop my thoughts from tangling
with the sound of your voice
(and hold them
in the palm of your hand)

your laugh makes my heart
split and i can't help
but miss you a second after
we say goodbye
(stay longer
than a little while)
Oct 2014 · 311
You, them, I, us
pluie d'été Oct 2014
Don't be so angry.  The world owes you nothing. It isn't trying to hurt you or make you wear how unfair it is on your wrists forever. It didn't ask for you to exist,  so don't curse it for the day you were born on, or act like it's an inconvenience around others for you to breathe and murmur and stare. Stop.
Stop thinking that everyone is superficial and fake and that you're the only 'real' one in the universe, or that they have the right to think of you any less than them.
Neither of you have that right.
You are here. They are here. I am here.
It doesn't matter what skin colour you are, or what gender you are or whether you like boys or girls or both. It doesn't matter if you believe in a god or not, or if you're uncertain. It doesn't matter if you are covered in tattoos or not, or if you love books or hate books, or if you're afraid of heights or aren't but wish you were.
Stop apologizing.
Stop screaming.
Think about what you're saying before you say it. Think about what you are doing before you do it.  
You choose how you respond, you choose your destiny, and you choose your reality.
So breathe and feel alive while you're alive. Laugh and love and get hurt. There's nothing wrong with living as who you are.
You are allowed to be.
They are allowed to be.
I am allowed to be.
We are allowed to be

You will be a gift at your best and someone who needs a shoulder to lean on when you are at your worst.
Let yourself see.
Let them see.
Let me see.
Let us see.
Oct 2014 · 3.7k
pluie d'été Oct 2014
do you know the rain
he asks
it's never alone
he says

almost like you

but it's not
and i am not

i am
a raindrop
between other raindrops

we become a translucent
(we are not blue)

you are mistaken
i whisper
and a raindrop
slips down
along the curve of his neck
Oct 2014 · 544
pluie d'été Oct 2014
you have come to sweep me away
with your flowers
and the sky

pass quickly
over me
my love
like the wind
that keeps slipping through
his fingers
Oct 2014 · 719
alarm clock
pluie d'été Oct 2014
i will wake you up
at three
if you ask me

and i will listen to the words
tumbling from your sleepy
and fall for the way
you laugh
at your own jokes
the way i already do

i will say your name
if i hear
you drifting away
and you will affirm
your consciousness
in your sleep
until your dreams
end again
Oct 2014 · 308
if i can't
pluie d'été Oct 2014
i can't remember

is there anything more
to write

if i can't
Oct 2014 · 466
pluie d'été Oct 2014
it took me
three years
to let him go

and almost four
for him

and now there's you
and your eyes
and voice
and the butterflies
you brought for me

and i swear
you must have
made them fall in love with you
and then fed them
to me
while i was asleep

because they don't stop
trying to get to you
Oct 2014 · 289
pluie d'été Oct 2014
is this how feeling alone
he asks
staring at the empty
cloud laden sky

i dance
in the rain
as it falls


catch me
kiss me
Oct 2014 · 308
the ground saves me
pluie d'été Oct 2014
could you watch me
for a moment

i'm falling at your feet

pale pink
and lighter than a feather

a part of a blossom
you chose
to balance
on the handle of her front door

but she didn't notice
the way you smiled
or the way your eyes lit up
in the grey
at the charcoal
of her eyes

and all this time
you thought you knew
but now you wonder
if she was pretending
when she whispered in your ear
crushed to your side
"I love you"

you shake me
from behind the twisted tree

tender hands
becoming cruel

the ground rises up
to save me
from your separation
A re-work of one of my older poems.
Oct 2014 · 343
we fell from the sky
pluie d'été Oct 2014
paper kites
abandoned by the wind
are falling
in the sea

clinging to the grey
as we fall
at broken clouds

scarlet streams
follow us
and make an atlas
of trails

for the stars
to follow

Oct 2014 · 259
unfinished 1
pluie d'été Oct 2014
and there will
always be empty
between every
or sentence


like rain

and it's
more than okay
because there
is nothing worse

Sep 2014 · 248
pluie d'été Sep 2014
if you were
ever to leave
i hope that  would be able to
forget you

if i ever
were to leave
i hope
that you would
forgive me
Sep 2014 · 280
pluie d'été Sep 2014
I can't decide
If it is easy
To let you go

Because we're not meant to be

Or if it is because

I know that you will come back to me
Sep 2014 · 283
pluie d'été Sep 2014
my poems
were once

Definitions of the ones
Who didn't love me enough

But now
They are only yours
Sep 2014 · 561
pluie d'été Sep 2014
how funny
he said

inhaling in
the lights
against the night
with the grey

his forefinger
and thumb

i told her
that i loved her

and she believed me
Sep 2014 · 304
pluie d'été Sep 2014
you are
the thunder
i am afraid of
Sep 2014 · 430
pluie d'été Sep 2014
If we could be

I'd hope that
One day

We would become
Like a pane of glass
held between

The waves of the ocean
And the clouds of the sky

You could taste the salt
And I could
Drown in the rain

We could be
As indefinable
As our translucency
As the sun set

And be as proud
As the night sky
Being able to say goodbye
To the blue
And spilling
Dark watercolors

Between the patches
Of green
With the underside of brown

There are two sides
To everyone
Every story
Every us
That makes us one

Let me see
The tide and the moon's reflection
Across the roaring ink
And I swear
To let you
Caress the lightning
Behind you
Sep 2014 · 789
pluie d'été Sep 2014
my favourite days
the 3rd
and 27th
of every month

and every tuesday
because i love the sound
your lips make
when you say

those words
against my neck
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