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❝ s p i r a l l i n g it’s a fun word fun to say, fun to spell spins off the tongue too twists on itself at the end there goes backward: not out, just in and then a loop de loop starts at the tongue, ends in a grin . w h i p l a s h another fun word a full mouth word lips pressed together and then a shhhh can’t say it without a smile can’t say it without a hush . i n e r t i a another fun one but now i’m tired ❞ — (i’m not going anywhere with this)
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❝ it’s summer and i’m full of yearning, but when am i not?
it’s summer and i’m trying to teach myself that being happy—here and now—doesn’t mean i can’t want something else, something different, and doesn’t mean the happiness is false. it’s summer and the sky is blue and the clouds are made of cotton and you haven’t kissed me yet, which is a tragedy, but a small one, and a cliche, but i don’t mind. it’s summer and i’m trying to capture life, but it’s so fleeting, even if it’s pretty and sweet and turning my skin a golden brown. it’s summer and it’s not enough, not without you. ❞ ❝ come here let me hold you let me wash the dust from your feet wipe the tracks from your cheeks soothe your aching hands. i have heard you screaming in the deep night in the hollow of the wood but you have found your way out now and these shadows hold nothing except a peace you are allowed to trust is real is true is lasting. here you are at last and i do not begrudge you the wait a heart is a heavy burden* but so too is a mind ill at ease. but here lay it down lay it all down let it rest in the cool dark earth let it root deep elsewhere untwine it from your bones. it is not you and you are not it though you have grown so close you may be forgiven the confusion. here is a knife to cut away what you cannot relinquish. i promise it will not hurt. ❞ —i promise i love you too much for that. *Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) dir. Hiyao Miyazaki
❝ it’s heavy. it’s so heavy, everything i’m carrying. i just wanna put it down, but it’s grown into me, right into my spine, around my lungs. makes it hard to breathe. makes it hard to look up. makes it hard to keep going. i don’t know how to root it out without ripping something vital out of me along with it, and i can’t reach that far back anyway. so i keep carrying it and it keeps growing heavier. ❞ —one day it's gonna grind me right into the dust
❝ my heart is so loud it's hard to hear anything else other than its wild rushing through my veins and in my ears ❞ --i don’t know how to quiet it
❝ The world is silent and still
The stars are all falling Around us: wide open spaces Within us: all our quiet grief (The same in the end). ❞ ❝ a halo, a haunting, a howling ❞ author's note: sometimes you write something that isn't going anywhere, but you like it enough to share it with the world. such is the case with these three words, which kind of came out of nowhere and wouldn't go away until i wrote them down. writing, i tell you. maybe one day these words will spark a larger piece...
❝ i sit and i hold your hand. that’s it. that’s the story. that’s what matters. nothing that came before, none of the bleeding or the fighting, the weeping or the reaping. not the mud or the rain, not the cold or the pain. just you and me and your hand in mine. because i sat and i held it and your fingers opened like you didn’t mind. like it was easy. like we could’ve been doing this all along. nothing else matters. not where we’re going, or how, not what’s to become of us, or what’s to be done now. i sit and i hold your hand. that’s it. that’s the story. there’s no before or after. just this. just us. just that i sit and i hold your hand. ❞ — a break, a coming together
❝ well here is the thing i have not written you in a long time have not transcribed your form in dark ink and brisk movements against white have not mulled over the fullness of you in my mouth have not held you tender, held you sweet held you between the arch of my fingers and the ribs about my heart but here is the thing it is like the tree: twenty years ago, and again, now. ❞ —a seed planted, and replanted
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