Author: unnecessaryquotationmarks

there is silence in me, absolute and inconvenient at best. you and I saw the same edges in the corners of life, the same distinguished beams of colours only souls who’ve been let down have had the unthinkable become seen.

we tell our stories differently you and I, this is by no mistake as somehow I have grown this ether monster that feels like love, I want to wrap you up in my arms without selfishness, I don’t want to try and kiss you, I don’t want to pull away, just me in your arms.

you could ask why I let such violence live within me, and like the crisp of the apple snapping at the bite there is still sweetness there, and I’m that deterioted bright soul who reads love letters and uses them to paper cut my inner thighs so I remember where your fingertips would touch me, no deficiency, no shaking hands like my own of fear in built in me that I cannot seem to consume and then dispose of, hold my head in your hands and ill cry all the unwanted truths that I don’t want to face, feed that monster inside me that wants to rip its teeth into the flesh of something more tangible than the decomposing heavens I’m spinning in, dealing, defeated, caught inside somewhere that feels like a disaster, and something that could mean everything. my bones could rip into each other the amount of ache I allow them to endure and force them to thrive in the unfathomable.

my cave grows weary of the burdens, in the early morning mist the distortedness almost looks like home. I see myself happy, in dreams of you, tangible tears burdened by time, call me back with your wild wet mouth, only your words have the power to soften my demons. can you hear me moan for you… morse code- whispers of your touch upon me across the expanse, perhaps, the trees are wise in their stillness. words slip through my fingertips tonight, I want to believe we exist, that I exist in this mundanity and through this haze… I exist.

the one that lets me roam and use my wings… ..

tens of thousands of second chances

you’ve exhumed my love, engulfed me into one, a wholesome little being that feels happiness, I am sold that our love story will grow old.

I pray that you won’t go, you’re half of me now, but I’ve hardly stood proud. with hands over my hollow mouth I had it, I almost said it.

the garden that I’m failing to grow, fall short again, I’m falling short again.i could be alright if I let you rewrite my life, I could be alright if you were right by my side.

if you breathe in then I do too, if you need it, then I need it too, I want to see you smiling looking at me in a grocery isle, taste myself on your lips, undress me with your deep blue eyes, bring your starved mouth into me, intoxicate me holding me hostage with your bare hands, saddle my hair back and drench my neck with your tongue.

I’m quiet, gentle and sensitive and partly cruel but only to myself, I can tell you this and ask you to love me anyway… that’s what love is though right, to show all your flaws and bare naked soul and still be enough.

when timing strikes right for once…

I craved that kiss that made me knew the moment I first tasted it that I had never known happiness my whole life.

I read somewhere that, eventually soul mates always meet, because they are hiding in the same places.

your home remains in memory, both inside and the outside of time, an ethereal place that too has become my home- but why do I not hide there… I believe I can because I am more than halfway there. how can I explain to the sea that I’m drowning on the land and feel i can’t swim in either.

eons passing – relinquished sighs into this thick hair that strangles me and calls itself winter.

innocent smiles, soft touches, forehead kisses, hushed conversations, eyelid kisses, gentle strokes of the cheeks, soft laughs, tucking hair behind ears.

is there anything more that heals every wound in me like the touch of your hands and beautiful patience.

I’m fading sometimes, and all people see is the mists escaping me, as each time I light a cigarette, it’s one more time I am lighting a bridge to burn my surroundings.

I remember my father telling me that grief was a gate, and I look back at that naked cruelty and I freeze that he thought that was kind.

I’m desperately trying to be the girl that made you feel like everything will be okay, but I’m struggling to convince myself that I’m okay. who must I become to face my fears, to stop running from things and face them head on.

I turned my blinker on and knew both our hearts stopped at the same time.

I don’t think we could break this connection even if you tried…

my eyes hold a darkness not even the stars can reach, a colour of loneliness

when my mere presence feels like a chore, like an imposter I say nothing and I do nothing. im trying to not be selfish.

feelings I will stifle and harbour, allow them to explode within me, holding them close to my chest, igniting the fabric of my being. I will choke on them when they come scratching to the surface, creeping up my throat in rage like attempts to verbalise the words of my yield of control.

I will dance with them and feel them to my depths as they mix with blood within my veins, hanging deep and heavy in the wind around me, unspoken.

my words only make noise and burden you.

will her body tingle like her soul is being stroked by yours when you touch her…

will she find the comfort in you not only knowing her but understanding her soul…

I will not forget the eroticism of us connecting like this, but I will exist slowly and softly and outlive myself in this. afraid of who I am. who I was. finding what these trembling hands cannot carry, I carry on.

in the sunlight, through the suns light, to you. I was an angel, once.

all of my heartbeats miss you

during this silence I feel you louder

what will this time bring forward for you..

do you really love me or are you so entwined with me that you’ve forgotten what the real word really tastes like.

when Kurt Vonnegut wrote in a letter to his wife “you and I know each other in our bones” and when Sandra Cisneros wrote “he’s been here in my heart before I even knew him, understand? he’s always been here. always.” and when Friedrich Nietzsche wrote “I love you. I feel as though we were never strangers, you and I, not even for a moment.”

… ..

among the many fears I have within this brokenness- will there be forgiveness- doest it go back to love or will what feels like a long time lapse make it different.

will I still be me after this in-between – will this brokenness still make you, you.

“what I am giving you is nothing that belongs to me. it is just yourself, you running through me throwing off sparks, your eyes blazing with fear, blazing with hope, I am giving you your own fire. all I do is breathe very gentle on your night embers and handfuls of stars fly out”

you can burn your fire however you choose, I just didn’t want to feel burned.