Warm and full
My bubbly, baptismal vessel
Carries casked vanilla notes in its steam
A pillow of air
Keeps me from drowning
My ******* float and lift away
Brackish water covering near the totality of my body
As each teardrop rolls into the mixture,
Changes within me and its salinity
I struggle less to stay afloat

and just like that,
it's the first --
again.
a new month.
it's like a blank page
i dont want
to write on.

the calendar flips
its pages
like it's nothing,
but i can feel it --
the pressure
of doing it all better
this time.

new goals.
new lists.
new promises
i probably won't
keep.

everyone says
that it's a
"fresh start"
like thats supposed
to make me feel
hopeful.
happy.

but it honestly
just feels like
a reset button.
the one i never
asked for.

like change
i'm too tired
to chase.

There were words I loosed like doves in flame,
Believing then they sang my name.
They circled truths I thought were stone,
But time has taught me bone is bone.
It bends, it breaks, it mends anew,
And so, my thinking shifted too.

There were paths I carved with fervent feet,
Mistaking hunger for the heat.
I danced with shadows, dressed in pride,
I kissed ideals I now let slide.
Not out of shame, nor some disguise,
But from the way that wisdom sighs.

No, I wear no doubled face,
No costume stitched with sly disgrace.
I do not play at saint or sin,
But simply shed my older skin.
The soul, like sea, must ebb and swell,
What once was right may not still dwell.

Growth is not betrayal’s twin,
It is the echoing voice within.
That softens stone and clears the dust,
That asks, “What now deserves your trust?”
And so I rise, unchained from past,
Not fixed in marble, but made to last.

Judge me not by yesteryear,
But by the will that brought me here.
I bloom, I stumble, I redefine,
Each version still a thread of mine.
For even stars must shift their place,
And find new fire in endless space.

So let me change, and let it be,
A hymn to our humanity.
Not proof I’ve lost my truest hue,
But proof I’ve lived, and listened, too.

we built debris of memories,
passing feathers of bird, reflecting,
the love of refulgent stars.
hair fine as famine's child
turning from the breast of feed.

darling, I love being your prisoner.
hairs fades as our palms turn crooked and grey,
your cheeks feeds me orchard's ****,
every word you utter dances into
old hymns of puppy lovers anthem.
let me lay on your wavering sea,
chaos as you bite me,
an ache to be devoured,
silence to remember,
a kiss to soften marigolds sucker.

I am impulsive
I am strange
Lying in the bed I made

I am anxious
I am loud
I won't make my parents proud

I am restless
I am tired
I'm not one to be admired

I am obnoxious
I am trite
Burning bridges keep me warm at night

I am indecisive
I am sure
Enjoying what I haven't earned

I am curious
I am afraid
Cleaning up a mess I made

I am grateful
If I am at all
I have no regrets that aren't absolved

there's probably something
far deeper at work here
something quite important
and worth delving into
to be explored more
thoroughly
consequentially
consciously

instead i'll probably
just end up thinking about
that shoelace in my boot
the one that still
needs to be replaced
ragged and frayed as it is
and i'll wonder how long
i can ignore it before
it finally snaps
and i'm left with
no choice anymore

Ode to the Stream that sits stagnant
somewhere over Northgate Green:

I have sat by it and observed
Rippled currents falling down
Into murky shallows, an un-natural
Green, like mountain-dew
Breathing frothy spots of bubbles
That circle a rhubarb vape
And a sprite can and a
Heineken can and a
Little hopping Wren darting
Between curled roots.

I remember too,
The drips of
Rain water
Worming
Down the dingy
Alleyways of
My childhood,
Dripping down
Nettles and
Seeping into
Cracked brick and
Sodden dirt
And part of - now a -
Sordid cigarette packet.

And from some
Geography class,
I remember how
This water was
Reborn, once
In massive clouds,
Grumbling masses,
Sky's mother who
Shadows the

Bursting
Writhing
Violent
Rivers
And
Vast Fjords
And
Reaching Peaks
And
Breaching Skys
And
Once
Birthed
As torrent
Rainfall
Tearing
Massive wounds
Into tectonic
Plates

The
Blood of matter
And organism
And that which
Carries our ****
In every form

But that's not all. As, I recall:
The lifting motion of staring
Into 'etched lines of water'
From rain, tracing bulbous
Recollections on opaque glass
And knowing they don't
Know where they are going
And I bask in the significance of
This insignificance.

I close the book, its spine sighs shut,
the whisper of a thousand nights drawn in.
A chapter folds like hands in prayer,
but not all endings are so clean.

The lantern dims. The room forgets.
Yet on my fingers, dusk still clings,
not with fire, but with a bruise,
of words that bled with shaken wings.

I turned the page; it turned me back,
a mirror’s glance, a hollow swell.
The tale is done, but silence keeps,
what ink refuses to quell.

The parchment sleeps, but I remain
marked by the shadows love once wore.
We name it "past", but past is ink,
and ink remembers so much more.

So let the book stay closed awhile,
beneath the dust, beneath the rain.
The lines may fade, but not the ache,
of what was written in hurried vein.

Dear past self,
We didn't die.
We didn't give up.
We didn't see our last day yet.
We didn't **** our optimism.
And that's good news.

But we are immensely different.
You changed, and so did i.
You liked the sun, i like the stars.
You yearned for someone, i found that person in me.
You had a name, i named myself.

You will build yourself,
From scraps of fear and uncertainty,
To be the person you didn't know you could be.
You will build yourself,
Because your old mold didn't fit you anymore,
And you needed space to grow.
You will build yourself,
To grow wings and live again
Like you wished for last night.
You will build yourself,
Give yourself a different name,
And travel the world stronger than ever.

Dear past self,
I'm probably a stranger to you.
So many things happened.
So many things changed.
I can't say for sure we're still the same person.

You are a girl, and i am a boy.
You are Emilie, and i am Athos.
You are insecure, and i am confident.
You are hopeless, and i finally feel alive.

Life will **** you,
And you'll resurrect from the ashes
Like a strong phoenix.
Life will **** you,
And you'll put your shattered pieces back together
Like a gorgeous mosaic.
Life will **** you,
And you'll build yourself up
Like a Greek statue.
Life will **** you,
So you can be born again
And have a second chance at life.

Your spark will come back.
No one stole it.
Your wings will grow.
They always meant to.
Your time for change will come.
And it's going to be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to you.