Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Erwinism Dec 2
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos.

i know you hate it, so i will make you remember.

how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day.

bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks.

reed-thin body,
bones as if wafers,
yet we sprung forward.
not a care as we watched
the jowly cheeks of wanting
puff up.

how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit.

i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart.

but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky.

you were insane that way.

remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better?

remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts?

it mattered little—
inconsequential, so to speak.
we heaved our arms,
hoisted our dreams
onto our scrawny frames.
our bulging chests
were enough
for us to beat,
like bongos,
we fanned the flames
until they voices
throughout the milky way.
our mother
in her innocence believed
we were capable
of many a great things
between the better parts
of her mood swings.

we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late.

yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew.

remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you?

remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy?

how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night?

remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about?

remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away.

into the mist went we,
threads began to fray,
we forgot.

i will make you remember,
before all that i am unravels.
amelie Nov 30
i don't remember when my body became something i didn't want to notice
unable to tear my eyes from the mirror,
wanting to break it

i recognize every little change:
bony collarbones
dark bags under my eyes
noticeable rib bones
never-fit-before clothing sizes
hollowed out cheeks
tighter skin
smaller arms

something new everyday

when i was in middle school i loved food
i couldn't understand how people could just not eat

three years later
and i'm taking notice of how much weight i've lost
since I started skipping meals
amelie Nov 29
i don't remember when my body became something i noticed
checking my reflection daily,
stopping at every mirror

i recognize things i haven't before:
my thighs touch
there are small dips in my hips
new stretch marks
never-seen-before freckles
a soft jawline
widows peak from my dad

something new every day

when i was young i only cared about my hair
i would tell people i would never ever cut it so i could look like Rapunzel

eight years later
and i'm taking notice of how long it has grown
since i cut myself
The bright summer sun warms my skin

instead of energy, it puts me to sleep

Gone are the days, id run and play

And the joy i wish i could keep
  
  The smell in the air is nostalgic

Of a memory just out of reach

Not sure if its real or i dreamt it

But its of one i can no longer see
  
  Is the laughter from my past a real sound?

Or something id wished i had heard?

Memories fade so much with time

And recalling them seems so absurd

   You havent been here for a while

These memories keep coming in waves

Feeling so lost yet familiar

Something i cant get back or replace
Songs are just like bookmarks in life.
We don't notice things;
it is how we take down time.

The lyrics, the melody, the mood,
and the feelings—yeah!
A single line of a song can take you
back to a moment in time.
Time Travel
Time Capsule
Free Verse Poetry
Malia May 12
It’s like I’m walking
Home from school,
Counting the houses
That look the same.

It’s like I’m skipping
The cracks again,
Humming the tune
Inside of my head.

It’s like my shoe laces
Keep coming undone
No matter how much
I tie them up.

I pick at the thread
Hanging off of my sweater,
Not bothering to bend down
And double-knot.

And then when I trip,
I sit
And wonder
Why.
Grace James Aug 2023
I see strangers on the Internet
talk about healing their inner child.
It made me go inward.
Think
and think
and think.

About little me.
Three, five, seven years old.
What she wore
what she ate
what she watched on TV.

How she danced,
twirled on and on
without a care in the world.

And as I saw her in my mind's eye
and felt her in my soul,
my heart was filled with a Great and Terrible Sadness.

Oh, how I've failed her!
I've abandoned her laugh
her warmth
her light.

I traded her valiance for fear,
her voice for silence.
Her smile and bright green eyes
for a dull film over too-pale features.

Oh, my poor, sweet child.
I am endlessly sorry.
I have failed you.
Failed you.
Failed you.

Those strangers on the Internet
want to heal their inner child.

But now
I wonder...
Can my inner child heal me?
Khoisan Apr 2023
In the quicker sand

deeper than I've ever been

slip sliding away

I still see the gravedigger's *****

6ft deep in the shallows
Next page