#hinge
i found you again when scrolling through hinge.
a ridiculously 21st century chance encounter.
seeing your brown eyes glowing at me through the screen,
my fingers hovered over the keyboard,
debating whether to find a witty response to your 'favourite film directors' prompt.
i loved the way those eyes used to scrunch at me when you smiled.
you would grin down at me,
laughing like i was your odd scarf-wearing, nose-piercing, flared-jeans, manic little sister.
i don't think you ever thought of me as a serious option:
your responses were terrible,
your appearances fleeting.
and yet
there were split-seconds of sunlit smiles,
soft glances,
fingers brushing
as we sat side by side on my bed,
discussing scripts.
i found you fascinating.
tall, strong, handsome,
in your leather jackets and uncool, worn-out trainers.
you had that sunday morning, coffee cup, folding laundry, boyfriend sort of look down to a tee.
i never saw you again after that whirlwind autumn.
i thought i caught a glimpse of you outside tesco, once,
a smaller, skinnier, pixie-girl with her hand in your pocket.
you walked away in a cloudy december breeze,
pulling her along with you.
i miss the feeling of crushing on you.
i miss listening to your music,
feeling like i'd been touched by an angel when you noticed me,
when you made me smile,
when you texted me back (every once in a blue moon.)
your face stares back at me blankly through the screen.
i could type out your favourite film right now, engrained in my brain like a binary code.
it's nice to know you're looking for 'short term, open to long.'
it's nice to know you don't have a girlfriend,
that by some chance encounter i might see you at a coffee shop
and pluck up the blind courage to go and say hi,
tap you on your brown leather clad shoulder.
porco rosso. miyazaki.
you loved the music and the colour palette.
it's on the tip of my tongue,
maybe even my fingertips.
leave it.
maybe i'll rewatch it later, on my own,
after seeing my friends at the pub in my own jacket, which i suppose looks a bit like yours, now that i think about it.
instead, i heart a message from the posh **** i saw last week.
its nothing serious: he's good in bed.
he's not that fussed about my scarves or piercings or jeans,
and he wears tweed jackets and white shirts and stupid hats.
his eyes are unremarkeable,
and his smile has nothing on yours.
all in all, not boyfriend material.
i'll tell you one thing:
i bet his replies are better than yours.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 6:50 PM UTC
blocked you on hinge
seeing you made my heart sink
if only we could bridge
if only we were different
humbled by the current circumstances
too sophisticated for immature dances
i hope you are well
i pray for your peace
i hope you are swell
i pray you receive all you crave
i need some space
time heals all wounds they say
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 9:32 AM UTC
perfume samples at the airport
lukewarm bite-size samples at Costco
the first chapter of an ebook.
a whiff, a taste, a peek.
do you want more?
will you commit to buying the full product?
or will you keep searching?
chasing? craving?
it seems to be inexplicably conditional -
for some, you’ll stop dead in your tracks,
knowing to stock up.
for many, you’ll move on,
forgetting you ever halted to try it.
but maybe you’ll remember how it felt,
deep-down it resonated with you,
and it’ll affect your other future decisions.
what makes us fall in love?
what makes us tether,
souls tied,
minds aligned,
keep choosing to fall with each other?
Jul 14, 2024
Jul 14, 2024 at 5:41 AM UTC
Circumstances are hinges
Where poetry swings.
They can open a door
To a million linguistic expressions
Or they can shut them off
**** them in the sore of your throat
But never mute the meaning of.
Meaning lays in the very state
Of furtiveness and nakedness
From which words, inner or external
Emerge.
When mine merge with yours
It's beautiful
But when feelings do
As ore as they can get
There is not a word
Left to say.
-- Eleanor
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
I am the Box Turtle,
I shut you out,
and sleep away in my shell,
I am the Box Turtle,
the only turtle who is safe from the world,
the only turtle who can shut away the world,
I am the Box Turtle,
I'll hid for life,
behind the hinges that cover me,
I am the Box Turtle,
Who will slam my door,
on you and the world,
I am the Box Turtle,
I can live my life in my shell,
while you continue creating this hell,
I am the Box Turtle,
I will not fight,
I will live in peace not war,
I am the Box Turtle,
I'll lock the ones who try and hurt me out,
to try and survive these battles alone,
I am the Box Turtle,
inside my hinge like doors,
I'll be safe from the world,
I am the Box Turtle,
I must be safe from you,
and any other fools.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
tick tock
rhymes with clock
and sunrise
with goodbyes
know
to go
and flow
and so
By and fly
and cry
but while heart
pairs with start
nothing, not one thing
rhymes with orange.
Poor orange.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
Expensive handbags,
Pensive listening,
Nothing I say is ever worth
Mentioning.
Swing on this
Hinge-- a see-saw of
Heartache
Bruised on the *** by
The frozen snake--
Never to thaw
And never to break.
Exquisite lampshades
Hide the luminous
Color,
Now a dingy
Dim of disrepair
Order.
Visit a fairytale
Where honey flows in
Waterfalls,
The smooth will soothe the
Heartless work and
Falls.
Tangled cloth again today,
Moth eaten and angled,
We ride in the dark
Convinced our little playground could save
A heart.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
I am never more human
than when I’m riding next to someone
who makes me shudder.
I am human as I sit and I wonder about their life
the way their hair curls to the left instead of the right,
if it was on purpose or done with curlers, or if everything in life is just accidental.
She probably didn’t care which way her hair curled. Neither do I. But I do care
about the way her ankles look with them crossed, about the way her eyes are angled
out the window, about the way her jaw clenches when we hit a bump. It probably clenches
the same way when her boyfriend is ******* her.
I sit on the bus, shuddering and wondering about the bus riders’ lives. They’re probably the same
as mine, as yours, as the guy’s who is behind me, digging his knees
into the green leather of my seat, which is cracking at the edges. I see a piece
of yellow foam pushing out the edge, and I cannot resist the urge to play with it.
The person who sat here before me probably did, too. We cannot help but play with things,
always hoping we’re never the one to finally break it.
We are all the same, we all live to love, or love to live,
or maybe we don’t,
but we take comfort in knowing that we will all die one day
whether its on purpose or by accident, though it is always accidental.
But maybe we really are different, after all,
we’ve come a long way, from discovering fire to discovering better ways to put it out,
concocting new chemicals to cure every ailment,
fabricated or organic, physical or mental,
and I cannot get out of my mind that
our minds revolve around the world which revolves around the stars,
the ones in the theaters and the ones in the skies, the ones on the covers of magazines
like People and Science Weekly—inside they’re half advertisements—
how else do we advance in the world without cash?
Their covers are full of sequins and *** tips and shuttles with surveillance
cameras snapping photos as they watch our every move
from behind the cover of the planets who grin with the knowledge they will never reveal,
because they, too, are plotting against us.
Tonight we are under the cover of the blankets and I am watching her just as we are watched by
the planets that spin and the stars that shine and the moon that just wants to see the light of day
because she only knows the dark of night,
and the eclipse of her *******
eclipses the eclipse of the moon,
and the cross around her neck is blinding me with reflected light and reflected values
and I can’t look away but I can’t look at it
because I want to deny it but I want to accept it and
I marvel at how one taste of her
can show me what it is like to be saved.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC