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

When you gave me the moon

I couldn’t help but look away—

The blinding white seared

My swiftly brimming eyes

The worn flesh of my yearning hands sizzled.

My being was eclipsed by its sheer expanse—

Nothing but a pained dot,

Bathed in its magnificence.

It was a gift too great to bear—

But you tethered it at my feet

With silver strings,

Uttering silver words

That held me aloft like silver wings,

Without which I would have surely sunk 

All too slowly beneath the moon soaked ground.

But when you left me with the moon

You took its warmth with you.

I long for the days 

It would lovingly melt my waning skin,

And set my dreams of love ablaze.

But I wish I hadn’t stood so close—

For it burnt mirroring craters 

Into my fragile heart.

The light it emanates now is cold and cruel;

Lurid beams plunge into the voids of my soul 

And become them,

To eternally freeze love’s old wounds in place.

I wish you had gently placed the moon 

On my meagre form before departing—

So I may be crushed to utter oblivion 

By what I treasured most dearly.

Window

I am made of memories—

I have a chipped tinkerbell sticker
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.