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underthesheets Nov 2022
us
I would rather you
I would rather us
Than people, than places, than things
Than my world or yours
My words against yours
I would rather us

Us always, I would rather you
Just you, just us
and possibly nothing, everything and all in between
I would rather it'd be us

Here, now choose me
Come home if I'm worthy of such
Please come home
Come back to us
underthesheets Jul 2022
How do I tell you, save me?
How do I say it without words?
How do I manage without drowning;
Without me consuming you

No one ever bothered to listen
So I learned to suffer silently
Everything eating away everything
I had to be strong because no one else would

But for now, would you?
Be strong for me?
Will I ask you to fight battles I grew weary of fighting?
Will you still be with me then?
underthesheets Oct 2021
Sky
It moves above us still
The sky a mass of blue
Masked by hovering whites
It moves above us still
As we run, as we walk, as we kiss, as we jump
As we cry, as we lie
Sometimes darker, but ever constant – blue
It floats above oblivious though seeing
It waits for us, prays for us, laughs at us
Till it touches us, it moves above us.
underthesheets Sep 2021
Out beyond the border lies my lover
He waits, inviting, miles over under streetlights
He hides singing in the shadows
In low grunts and silent hymns
I seek my lover; I dive deep and deeper

Out there lies freedom
Below the dark cloak illuminated by the business it encompasses
Built with stones, roads, homes, people
Walking, talking, mad and kind
Here is freedom packaged in suits
It struts in hand in hand harmony with commodity

Out there, there's wailing
Youthful faces rising from noise, sweat, smoke and glee
Here is a place of endless wonder
Packed with the unknown and the unremembered
Here they shout, kick, dance, laugh, fight
We find our corners, our friends, our highs and escape
We are found by blind touches, caution, surrender, and strangers

Out there is an undiscovered plain
Across the river, my lover's secret lying in dirt and mud
Here lights shine less bright
Here a son cries in hunger
Here a mother cries of pity
Here a father cries in isolation
He puffs, scavenge, runs, click-bang!
Here there is a hunger
Of poverty hidden in silence
My lover behind concrete, metal, wood
I am kissed in narrow streets and gifted security

I've touched my lover, over, between, and under
All his parts and places
The stink of his skin clings to mine
As we lie, finally together, I am home
He is home, both cool and warm
As dawn approaches, my lover leaves, occupied

Here is day
Romanticized by the searching smoke of crafted beans
and mindless denial clanking
I cannot see my lover amidst the light
He has retreated to his shadows
impatient for the night
Until we meet, I am left with these sheets
Our shapes dancing through moonlight, laughter, and sleep

Out there lies reality
One hand slaps unto another
A ding-cring-****
Run!
underthesheets Aug 2021
There it was again, the feeling lifted. For a while it felt like the bell jar was closing. It’s like being stuck in a loop without knowing how you got there, and you try to break free but it’s your body and mind that fails you. You’re stuck there on the floor, and it’s quicksand.


Sometimes the weight is lifted by laughter, sometimes by a walk, a show, a song, a shower; sometimes it takes a day, sometimes a week, most of the times, more. The battle is also a loop. And when you finally find clarity, it dawns on you, like the first sunlight after days of storm. It is hopeful.

When everything is loud, all I long for is the quiet corner. But I fear my thoughts, I don’t visit them frequently, they tend to be too loud, too intense, and once I face them, they need time to simmer, to cool down.

I have avoided romance, denied myself even the thought of it, turned it down and told the world it’s unessential.

I’ve worked and waited on my conditions. Love was an award, and I had to pass all the tests, all the levels, no matter how hard and high I made them. When I grew tired, I purged myself of it - I didn’t need it anyways. Not because I was afraid of how I looked, but because I was afraid of what lay underneath and beyond. I was afraid of failing my standards as well as theirs, I was afraid of my precious walls shattering, I was afraid of eyes and whispering, of my emotions, of what I could do, of who I could hurt, and many other things I’ve conjured into my mind.


I am different like this; lock me up and one day I’d stop longing for freedom. Then it would seem that the only world I know was the one created for me, created in four corners, confined in gold. I would accept this, and much less because I have been dirt many many times before. I tell myself, I was lower then, I did it then, I could do it again. When I was my best, fear made me cut off my wings to stay grounded. I kept thinking then, maybe I should’ve flown down rather than disabling myself. Rested for a while, maybe.


This is why there’s quicksand, because now I am walking, now I am crawling. Wingless, it would take much longer, but it‘s the journey, they say, it’s the fight. In wars the one who does not advance still protects, right? I’ll take guard. I’ll move forward. In denying myself of the world, I have also denied the world of me.
underthesheets Apr 2021
But if you do, if you happen to see my shadow when you close your eyes
Will you hear my call, will you remember my laughter
Clear enough to miss me, strong enough to seek me
If I am lost, will you come save me
If all my ellaborate pieces shatter, stuck in between the further
Disappear with me
I was brave, I was bold, now I am crippled
And all I have are words, and echoes, and wind, and light
The wind carries the echoes of my words
Listen, leave and find a life worth living
Bask in the light, buring until we're both ashes
Carried over by our wind, echoed all over
Everything all at once, and nothing altogether
underthesheets Apr 2021
I desire to leave, to disppear, to slip quietly into the night
On the last bus out, to the last possible stop
Discreetly removing the trail as I go
And with it every memory I left behind
When the sun rises, so will they
And there'd be nothing left of me
No clothes, no books, no wall marks
No face, no voice, no tingle of a touch
I was there, now I am here
Burn everything old and get lost in the new
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