#letterstomydarlings
They say He
is in the stillness. The calm
after the storm, the quiet
before the noise, any tiny
moments of rest scattered
throughout the day. Maybe He
is even here, right now
residing in the cool cessation,
calm silence, living where
no words will thrive, the deafening noiselessness
pressing down on me- maybe
I should be comforted that
in the absence of you, He
has come to fill the spaces
our words have left behind. Darling,
I must apologize yet again
for my consistent inability to perceive
the divine. Please, understand
when I try and tell you, here,
I see only emptiness.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Darling,
I honestly believe that once you tear everything down
what you rebuild can be stronger than ever. When we demolish everything
down to the very foundations
you're forced to notice the flaws from last time. And you did notice, you did know
better than I did
that though I have no practice at anything
other than giving up and walking away, I am capable of rebuilding. That knowledge, it seems, is only the latest in you proving me wrong, showing me
I'm better than I think, letting me know in the best way possible, exactly how
I have underestimated you. Darling,
I could go on, but I think
I need to thank you for not listening
to my urging you
my urging the world
my urging myself- thank you
for not giving up on me.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Darling, I'm
leaving the eggshells right
where they are.
A little more
(when have you known me
to not be self-destructive?)
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Darling, when I try
and write to you, all format
flies from my grasp. Haiku and ten
always too little, and prose
I would have to fill with beauty-
words I do not have to describe us
anymore. You see, unlike the family tradition, I was
never a good Scrabble player. Always
only 100 tiles and short, obscure
words never enough to tell a
story that should be rich, not sparsely
populated with only 1 Z, or
2 Ys or 2 Cs. With you I feel
I am playing scrabble with my words. As always,
my darling, (with) you I am losing.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
I miss
exactly you.
Not you now, cause
I know this isn't actually
exactly you. I think. Maybe
you were leading me on for
months at a time, maybe
I was seeing what I wanted, cause
hope makes me blind. Darling
the you now is not who
I miss talking to I
only call you this out
of force of habit darling
being near you hurts me darling
let me go.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
We're all standing here around
this *******
carcass, this dead
body, tattooed with
all of the words we
said. Darlings, look at this
poor soul this
dried out dairy cow, look,
she's ******* dead.** So
when I get up and
leave, because I can't
take the sight of her
entrails spilling out and
bleeding on my hopes don't
climb inside her limbs to
make a mockery of her
life by reanimation.
Your Necromancy never worked anyways, Jewel.
When I walk away
don't lead her after me-
let the poor beast rest.
When I walk away, of
I don't take you with me
don't follow-
let this dumb beast rest, too.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Darling,
this is how entropy increases. It's not in the loudness or the noise, it's not in the moments after when we're all shell-shocked and confused, no, because this world will not end in a bang. Entropy increases is such a fundamental concept, and yet
I had hoped and prayed and begged and bargained and pleaded and screamed and whispered and
until the air ran out of my lungs and my only words left were
not here not here not here not
here, darling, this, is how entropy increases. When I am too tired and you, you are too busy. We will not fall apart in glory, love, we will not burn out, this thing we call we will just
fade
away, until all that is left is the faintest glimmer of stardust coating my cheeks and clinging to what once was wet. We are drifting, heart, softly
and the space between where our gazes fall short is the void
that swallows our words. This
that you are reading is the only thing I have managed to rescue, fish out, drag through layers of fear and hesitence and doubt by sheer need to tell you something. You know, we are
celestial beings, stars, constellations, but even the glorious fades and only leaves behind the faintest of imprints on my eyelids, so I think I can almost just remember you but not quite because entropy has turned my memory
a rabbit-warren of twisting confusion and holey nostalgia oh love I'm sorry this
was never the plan you
were the sun and I was a star and we will not go out with a bang, darling, with the milky-way of our star-brains smeared across the space-wall we were not destined for such things
we were not destined for anything
maybe that is why the only thing
is to go out not with a bang, but my whimper.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 8:00 AM UTC
Darling,
I understand that you never wanted
this, never asked to try and fight
hating me. That my actions push you to
the ends of your abilities, that
my personality will not let you
rest. Love, you can try and hide
disguise this latest in the long list, but
know that I can see you
through the cracks in your armor, when
you turn away or your face
freezes in the painful semblance of
a smile yet again.
Darling
I know you are adept at hating from afar-
as adept as you are at intimate disgust.
But I must beg your forgiveness
for the only way I ever learned
to ask for amends
was by disappearing.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
Only you, darling
could make me dance
that ancient, almost forgotten waltz
of self doubt and hatred.
Only you, love
could make me move
digging my fingernails into flesh, available
in a way I have not in months.
Only you, gorgeous
could make me speak
freeing my tongue and breaking down
long-hardened walls, and then shut me up again.
Only you, bird
could make me sing
songs I had stopped, of my love for you
and songs I had almost forgotten, of my abhorrence for myself.
Only you,
darling, love, gorgeous, bird,
only
ever
you.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC