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Arke Feb 13
your whole body becomes a map made for me
to explore the uncharted territories
conquer the lands where I see fit to leave my mark
to seek and record with eyes and hands what is tangible
but I wish, more than anything, that I could uncover
your mind, your soul, your core, your being
to find my way under your skin as you have mine
the topography of your brain is a beautiful landscape
I want to study your phenomenology
to become a cartographer of your sulci and gyri
come to know the lines and ridges of your consciousness
create new methodology to observe and transcribe
your brain is a fingerprint unique, and yours
all the more beautiful for it's belonging
xxxxxx-x Jan 15
Staring into the darkness,
Mind is filled with unspoken words,
The coldness of my heart has gone to frozen,
I am not whom you thought you knew.
Christina Jan 9
black is the absence of colour
each pigment is erased as it descends
and life begins to fade

to think we live most of our lives in the dark
the blackest black of them yet
so does colour really exist?

colour is a distraction from the truth
it paints lies in pastel shades

but when black hours descend
the truth can finally be revealed
Arke Jan 9
I'm not okay, even though I know everything will be

Arke Dec 2018
anyone else here enjoy slow torture,
like backtracking months ago
in chats of failed relationships
to cringe at how strongly you
loved or seeked approval or desired
realizing how long it was unreciprocal
watching your patterns and foolishness
wishing you could stop the you
from the past from breaking the heart
of every future version of yourself
reliving the past like ptsd
watching yourself die over again
to prove it was real, that you lived, once

so I travel back months in time
to when we still spoke
and wish I could revoke every feeling
take back every word and every sentence
stop myself before I said anything nice
but the past is set in electronic cyberspace
arguably more permanent than stone

so I read and internalize every "k"
every empty emoji or moments
you were terse or upset with me
because they remind me to always
choose the one who loves me most
to play it cool and careless instead
compartmentalize it and remind myself
the one who loves more loses more
free is the one who has nothing to lose
and I'll get there too, someday soon
but until I can lose my feelings entirely
I'll keep numbing them with words
the ones you wrote to me
the ones I wrote to you
the ones you never voiced
and the ones I keep writing to this void

I'm not a ******* but you still hurt so good.
Arke Dec 2018
You walked right by me
I pretended not to notice
not to make things awkward
because even now
I still think of you

I didn't see if your eyes
tried to connect with mine
but I felt us connect regardless
walking away was all I could do
to avoid the intense feelings held

I can pretend my heart doesn't sink
when I think of you; mind, body, soul
I can act like I don't see you first
when I walk into the room
or like my feelings are buried deep

I'll be anyone you want, love
but I refuse to ever be the one
who loves, hurts, and cares more
because my heart can't handle that again
so I walked by you and said nothing
Arke Dec 2018
I want to feed my mind and my soul
and forget my body ever existed
Arke Dec 2018
you aren't gone, I tell myself
just a game put on pause
a phone call on hold
I see the back of your head
a side profile in a crowded train
the faint smell of you
sweat, skin, smoke, soap
I'll join you in the eventual
when my particles disperse to night
into pavement and dirt and sky
connected to the stars
that have always smiled at you
where I long to be
Arke Dec 2018
poetry poured from me
when I thought of you
all blue ink was made of your eyes
every white page, your skin
verses were a joy to create
I felt freedom in imagination
shared thoughts and feelings
inspiration from your lips
your tongue and teeth
both cobra and kitten
strike or purr, I loved both
now orchids are a hallowed
feeling in the pit of my chest
where once a heart was
the night is dreadfully boring
the moon writes no sonnets
every rainbow is filtered in sepia
stars illuminate and I feel nothing
oceans are filled of dead things
another day passes
where thoughts are unspoken
and pen never meets paper
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