The Artist
Soar
Foreign
Void
The witching hour is upon you,
You lie still, cursing elusive sleep.
The phosphenes in sight dance idly,
Rusty clocks tick to your heart beat.
The creatures of the night roam free.
Wait—
Surely, there's no such thing?
A rustle, distinct in the dead of night
As you tug the stifling sheets
A tad closer, the comfort transient.
What are you hiding from?
Is it the big, bad monster
Cloaked in the screaming silence,
Or is it something far more dreary—
Like solitude with your ruminations?
The hours creep by stealthily
But the voices are none the quieter.
Weary of waiting, you open your eyes—
The phosphenes fade to nothingness.
They say misery loves company;
Good thing the void in your heart
Is mirrored by the abyssal night.
I Am
I am lonely even when I am not alone—
I wonder if there are others who feel the same way.
I hear a friend call out when I am lost in my thoughts,
I see her lips move, but her words I hear not.
I want to be in the moment without wishing I were somewhere else,
I am lonely even when I am not alone.
I pretend I cannot hear a loved one ringing me up,
I feel anxious in silence so I fumble for words,
I touch my tear-stained pillows and wonder how I fall asleep,
I cry for a moment’s solace that no warm embrace can provide me.
I am lonely even when I am not alone.
I understand some cherish me but
I worry the slightest misstep will make them stop.
I dream of the day someone takes my hand and I do not flinch.
I try to be there for my little sister growing up in today’s lonely world,
I hope she never feels the way that I do.
I am lonely even when I am not alone.
Saudade
I'm a girl, in love with the sky.
In love with its divine iridescence
That fills my soul with a curious luminosity,
Even on the most macabre of nights.
In love with its scintillating sun;
The rays are indulgent as they caress me,
Streaming in gently through the windows,
Their warmth shielding me from the world.
In love with its ethereal rain;
Even when it's drowning me
Especially when it's drowning me—
For the sound inspires elysian sleep.
How I loathe the ashen clouds
That eclipse my beloved on occasion-
For every ounce the sky's melancholy
Weighs on my heart like twice of mine.
I want to feel the sky;
Lose myself in its azure embrace.
My sublime reveries make a fool of me—
The soft rays skim my tear stained pillows
Before they rouse me from repose,
Because I'm just a girl, in love with the sky
And I can never touch it.
The Gift
Window
From when you were five,
A gleeful little sprite
Breathing magic into my days.
A distinct crack on my crown
From the cruel cricket ball
Of the zealous boy next door;
You chided him endlessly.
Blinking orange lights to hide the crack
And illuminate your ardent being;
You often smooth over the fraying tape
That holds them up to conceal my flaws.
I have scars on my metallic edges
That would glint in the morning sun;
Your worried mother shoves me to the side
So you may revel in the gentle breeze.
The hint of a dainty palm print
From when you lay yours against me,
Sighing wistfully at the violent rain
That kept you from your doting lover.
The remnants of your ceaseless tears—
He broke your fragile heart last week.
When you pressed your cheek to my pane,
Into me, your pain did seep.
I am made of your memories.
I will treasure them till I am dust.
I will carry your spirit back to the earth,
May your warmth clothe the universe.