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mythology of longing
names of the night
stars as people,
settling like dust on the sky.
past lovers as black holes,
lips devouring blood
and flesh and tendones.
the big bang:
names of collision in the dark,
fingers on my spine,
heart and heat and light
entwined.
eyes like constellations,
always at the edge of implosion.
the becoming of the matter:
us, sitting
on the collarbone of the universe,
blood stains in the moonlight.
blood stains that speak.
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the girl who ran with wolves
Cut it open and stitch up the remains. Then repeat. Sometimes the words come pouring in in the way only a wound can reveal itself on the outside.
We endure cold winters and fingertips on our spine. We endure the way history repeats itself, people breaking our ribs to get inside, the warmth of the fire, the ashes flooding our mouth. Can you resist being hurled to the ground ? How much of us is going to get away ? We’re told about the dreams where we end up with wolves, but we’re still looking to pull the dead out of the water and tuck them in warm clothes again. We long at night , dream of the place where nothing is bruised and blackened. When we wake up, the scars are still there.
A hunter’s heart, lonely and quiet, always running , always looking back for ghosts. Did we forget someone ? Did we ruin our last resting place ? We’ve grown thicker skin, twisted our veins like they were made of paper. We took a thread and a needle and sew ourselves up with all the pieces we could find. Sometimes we aren’t put together right and become the monsters we fear.
There are no more nightmares at night. Now we barely sleep.
the anatomy of missing someone
i miss you. it’s like a gunshot wound:
you don’t know how bad it hurts
until you see it.
i remember clinging to your clothes,
the warmth of your collarbones
your eyes like the starry night.
this started like redemption,
but now it’s just a burial,
the loneliness settling around
like dust.
we should have known better :
to leave without saying goodbye.
here, i promise i won’t be cruel.
hold my hands and just
trace the bruises.
watch my eyes turn pale.
a thing most fragile and intense.
i will lie awake just to feel your absence
shivering from my skin
to my bones.
do you ache for me ?
about belonging
stained
rotten
last tender place
imprints
i'm darkness
monsters don't run
the thing about travelling
hollow
only lover left standing
caged birds
the language of emptiness
~