notes reverbrate in my head, songs drown in their own chords. words on words, words on words.
and i am fear, i am love.
i’ve been found out.
‘i am yours now
so now i don’t ever have to leave
i’ve been found out
so now i’ll never explore’
and i can’t stop thinking, though you’ve given me no reason to. you’ve been a darling, my precipice of love.
it is me, it is i.
i’ve betrayed your honest motifs by wanting more, by being unsure. every other girl would be thankful to never have to leave, but i am i. i can only think of all the lands whose flowers won’t open their buds to me, of all the trees that won’t bloom for me.
i am me and this is i.
i want to come and go, spending every morning in your harbour, every night – under the shine of communal stars.
i’m only tender and i’m only young. i can’t go for days without setting bridges on fire.
imma let it burn.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged all, am, and, be, been, being, betrayed, bloom, bridges, buds, burn, but, can, can't, chords, come, communal, darling, don't, drown, every, explore, fear, fire, flowers, found, girl, give, go, harbour, have, head, honest, i, imma, is, it, lands, leave, let, love, me, more, morning, motifs, my, never, night, no, notes, now, of, on, only, open, other, out, poems, poetry, precipice, reason, reverbrate, setting, shine, song, songs, spend, stars, stop, tender, thankful, the, their, think, thinking, this, though, to, trees, under, unsure, want, whose, without, won't, words, would, young, your, yours
can you tell me, why de ja vu haunts me like a predator stalking its only surviving prey? the de ja vu, embossed with its frenchness. just like you. just like those kisses you plant on my lips, their buds opening in the middle of the darkest nights, as i wake in cold sweat, clammy hands turning on the lights to chase the demons away.
and i realise, that love is french, italian, dominican. but more than that, it’s foreign to all of us. it’s language – mysterious hum in the early-morning air, it’s lands – unbounded by borders, it’s people waking up every morning, just like the rest of us, seductive scent of coffee in their kitchens, shatter of broken cups imprinting its echo on the windows.
and when i think of love, i think of the mess that coffee would make, drops collecting, puddle spreading with every beat of the heart. my mess.
and it doesnt touch you. you’re not really here. not entirely.
and love doesn’t cut you with its broken china or stain your slippers with instant coffee, fresh those marble tiles.
does it touch you at all?
…
it’s been three months now and i’ve nothing to tell me that i’m yours, only a herbarium of those flowers you bought me the day my mother went to the zoo with my little sister in tow.
only a dead plant, in an envelope somewhere, next to Y’s unopened loveletters and the note that X kissed so that a part of him may remain with me forever, or whatever his reasoning was.
and at night, in somebody’s kitchen, in a land far away, my heartbeat keeps the coffee flowing.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged air, all, away, beat, border, bought, broken, bud, buds, can, chase, china, clammy, coffee, cold, collect, cups, cut, darkest, de ja vu, dead, demons, dominican, drop, drops, early, echo, embossed, entirely, envelope, every, far, flowers, flowing, foreign, forever, french, frenchness, fresh, hands, haunt, heart, heartbeat, herbarium, here, him, his, hum, imprint, instant, italian, just, keeps, kiss, kissed, kitchen, kitchens, land, lands, language, letters, light, lights, like, lips, little, love, make, marble, may, me, mess, middle, mither, months, morning, my, mysterious, next, night, note, nothing, now, of, only, open, out, part, people, plant, predator, prey, puddle, realise, really, reasoning, remain, rest, scent, seductive, shatter, sister, slippers, somebody, somewhere, spread, stain, stalk, survive, sweat, tell, that, think, three, tiles, touch, tow, turn, unbounded, unopened, us, wake, wake up, waking, was, went, whatever, window, with, x, y, you, yours, zoo
glittering soot on her eyelashes 