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Arke Aug 2019
You were three blocks away
Going to the same destination
But you wouldn't stop
In the cold and rain
Never asked if I needed help
Didn't offer a ride which would've
Saved me 40 minutes of time
And an awkward conversation
With a man who invited me back to his
I considered his offer
Partly out of spite
Partly out of hope
That he would slash my throat
And I wouldn't have to return home
I rubbed my cheeks, suddenly grateful
No one can tell when you've cried in the rain
I guess we've always been three blocks
Apart from one another, you and I
Too depressed to get out of bed. Guess I'll write poetry.
Arke Jul 2019
You told me once, life isn't aimless
We are all aimed directly at death
Arke Jun 2019
They treated you better than anyone ever had
They were kind and sweet and caring
They made you feel good about yourself
They gave you a reason to keep going

And none of that means they were ever right for you.
Arke Feb 2019
stop forgiving and cutting slack
to those who don't love you back
Arke Dec 2018
life is but a cruel game
where we live each moment
always missing someone

I talked to a Serbian man
at the bus stop going home
told him my mom died
on the solstice this year
the longest night that never
would become day for her

he said his died when he was 50
that he wept like a child then
tears formed in his pale eyes

though this game seems unfair
that no one close to us remains
we only borrow one another
life is not a game played for keeps
we exchange time for experience
and life itself for memories
Arke Dec 2018
early morning sun weeps
rays against my skin through
open summer window
shadows hug the curves
of my arm and stomach
I believe, briefly, that I've dissolved
exsanguinated, I lay lifeless
a pile of flesh and mess
worried my soul has left it's shell
I exist only momentarily
when you touch me
when your eyes meet mine
when your body wraps around me

I vanish once more when you leave
Arke Dec 2018
god's teeth, like crooked giants
stood before me, unconquerable.
I've always chased windmills but
some demons are too great to slay,
and I, too foolish and tired to slay them.
"you were young once, too," they whisper,
they have been here at the dawn
of time and stand, eroded but beautiful.
they only remind me that my youth is gone,
of my fleeing mortality.
I will be long dead,
the earth will live on
without me, someday,
as will you.
will you mourn me when I go?
will you leave orchids at my wake?
I never wished to see a world without you in it,
never wished to feel my body apart from yours
though you've shown me what it looks like now.
and everything is a bit bleaker,
the first snow fall brings only
silence and slush and empty contemplation
and I hate it.
I hate being alone with these thoughts.
but rather than spearing the giants and demons,
I'd be lying if I said I didn't think
the spear would easier go through me
I'll get back on my horse and ride
towards the empty and unfulfilling horizon
as long as I can, I promise
I will fight an eternity for your memory alone
Arke Dec 2018
nobody writes poetry about the banal
the ticking clocks and coffee drips
clicked buttons and phones ringing
white walls with greige carpet
waiting in lines for daily tedium
this is where we spend most our time
existing in between the magical
skimming edges of something beautiful
our existence both mundane yet unparalleled
I feel grateful for every tea ring in my mug
pages of old books I will never read
time spent waiting for replies
or watching paint dry on canvas
because this sliver of existence
brief and bland though it may be
can occur only once at this very moment
and our fleeting mortality is extraordinary
Arke Dec 2018
catcall the bell-wearer
whose toll is paid in soft looks
longing sighs and blue eyes
like a Siamese cat because
an animal caged won't rebel
whistle and marvel at lithe grace
possessed by beauty of presence
charm that smokes and chars
magnified only by their walk
like a dance for poppies
made only more appealing
with cold shoulders and fury
Arke Nov 2018
you bring me your darkness
like a fat house cat
who has killed a mouse
placing it at my feet
still squirming
and you, proud
very well, I mumble
you're a formidable hunter
vulnerability is striking
yours ought to be celebrated
but darkness never dies easy
it chokes and sputters
and runs off with final breath
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