poetry, vainglorious
[i recently spent some time reading through my old google docs from high school and came across heaps of abandoned, half-formed poetry. it made me feel so much for the girl i used to be, everything jumbled up and all-consuming. i remember feeling like i just couldn't seem to catch a breakβlike i was forever caught between existing as a single point and an infinite line, restless within the confines of my own skin.
to my knowledge, none of this writing has ever seen the light of day. i don't know if this is something i'll regret sharing later, but for now, here are some of my favorite(?) excerpts:]
like how a persimmon never
truly has a pit, the whole
of it thick-skinned, soft
flesh falling apart
sky draining the lilies of their pink
in the place where i cannot reach you
i never know how to ask the right questions
so i watch as you raise your hand and swallow
my tongue until all i can taste is the inside
of my stomach, sour and maddeningly still.
i think of stale doughnuts from this morning and
the rain-damp diamond and how the sky hasn't stopped
folding in on itself for as long as i can remember and is just
now letting light through the cracks.
am i the wounded animal or the god it was split open for
urgent yet gentle
warmth, the circle
of your arms ellipsing
tides, reaching and receding
ceaseless
to want something is to reach for it with both arms outstretched
[i've mostly transitioned to writing short-form fiction in my free time, but after looking back on all of this, i think it might be nice to try my hand at poetry again. just for fun (:]
stay tender,
t