#dark academia poem

i notice the way you look at me
when i’m crying or vulnerable
you rub the side of my arm but
you want to hug me
don’t you?
you hate seeing me like this,
don’t you?

last day of school

i see you standing at the end of the hall
this is it, this is the last time i will see you in months
i want to feel your embrace once more,
i ache of longing, and wanting
i am sick of wishing, and waiting

i approach you, asking if i can hug you before i leave
my heart heaves in my chest; i feel sick, yet
i know i would regret it otherwise

a moment passes
you don’t quite hear me
i ask again
my voice is small, and i feel even smaller
another moment passes
i ask louder, on the edge of breaking down

and you say yes,
is this a dream?
you take me into your arms
god, you know i miss the feeling
you rub my back
i feel at home

we let go, and i smile
you tell me to stay in touch over the holidays
we say our final goodbyes

i shall say hello again in september

you complimented my makeup today;
i doubt you’ll ever know what that means to me
to have someone you have poured your soul,
your heart, the entirety of your being too,
mirror your adoration, even if it is a fraction of it

you were never mine in the first place
but the serpent of your name
carved in someone else’s heart
has the same poison in its fangs
as the serpent that would be
if you belonged to me

its bite intoxicated me with jealousy,
infecting my bloodstream, and every inch of my being
but i have no right to be this way,
for i am not yours, and you are not mine

yet, why do i present the same symptoms
as someone who watched their lover fall for someone else
doctor, oh doctor, can you cure me of this ailment
may i mistake these feelings for something
they are not

the tattoos adorned on your skin tell a story
let me trace every page; let me consume each word
i’m know you are aware of my desire for reading

there are moons inked on your back
i caught a glimpse of them, amidst last week’s heat
my cheeks reddened as if i imposed on something intimate
yet my eyes were bewitched and my gaze remained glued

i am intrigued, needless to say,
may i learn more of this tale?
or is this an instance of passing by a bookshop window
and never finding that windowsill display again

i barely even know you
you are not the woman you present yourself as
but, i know more about you than others like me do
so tell me please,

will there ever come a day i will learn of your moons?
-this is not something the textbooks can answer

i knew you were never attainable,
so i love you from afar
the idea of you so beautiful,
i refuse to seek the true reality

wonder is a synonym for beauty
we fall for things we do not understand
for the excitement of not knowing intoxicates our souls
the thrill of risking everything for the unknown is romantic

strip something of its essence, and replace it with fact and figure,
the appeal is no longer existent; the thrill cease to be
el sol glows as a gentle jewel hanging from my window
up close, she wields enchanting flames of destruction

what would it be like to be alone with you again?
it’s been so long, i have almost forgotten
the way my heart would pound against my chest,
the way your eyes would dive into my soul

you are an explorer, plummeting into the ocean of my heart
i usher you forward, daring you even
it’s dark, and dangerous; too deep and you may drown
but beneath it all is the gold
glistening dully, on its last thread of hope

the memories are fading into nothingness
but maybe it’s meant to be,
like letting go of blissful childhood, when
adulthood is ushering you forward
yet, i miss the way i felt when i was alone with you
don’t let this be something ordinary in pink tint

i ache, and i ache, but that will do nothing at all
please call for my name, i just want to feel special once more

but you are a painting and i am a bystander
you are as beautiful as sappho, and i say this with candour
i stop and i stare, but i’m not the only one
your world does not revolve around me for i am not the sun

the sun and the moon are not lovers
the sun and the universe are
the sun’s kisses to the universe are
known to you and i, as the stars

i search for you in everything i can
i scan the poetry books we both love,
scavenging for a glimpse of your words,
in someone else’s
i listen to the band we talked
about, with passion
and listen to how your heart crumbled
i look for la luna every night
to see your reflection

-sol, it is pains me too much to face you directly

there is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

there is a rapture on the lonely shore,

there is society where none intrudes,

by the deep Sea, and music in its roar:

i love not Man the less, but Nature more.

— childe harold’s pilgrimage, lord byron.

A Love Poem.

Let me be your darling.

My heart yearns to hold

Yet I face each day alone,

From rise til fall,

Each night grows,

My love comparable.

So, if I may ask,

Your hand in mine,

Let me be your darling,

And you’ll equate my love.

would you like to receive a personalised poem with immaculate vibes of your favourite aesthetic? you’re welcome to buy me a coffee and I shall fulfil your wish.

With a weight on my chest I used to carry on, ‘til thou cradled me in, nursed me back to health, breathed in the stead of my broken lungs. And like eternity is nothing but a short while, I forgot about my earthly flaws and the sense of suffocation; breathing was no longer my concern, the burdens not mine to carry. I buried them in my memories – “If only, if only.”

Thy light gave away in time and left me rotting in but a shadow. Maggots and worms infested my lungs again, a steady weight settled back in its place. Just as all nights end with a breaking dawn, the sun must sink to the far west in its time, to leave behind the mourning mortals with their longing for the light. “If only, if only.”

With my light inevitably stolen, I now bleed the gold thou poured in me. Spill out the silver; the bronze and copper, too. Each too heavy for me to hold in this shell bursting at the seams. Light slips through the sorrow, takes blight like sand on my palm, leaves me with no air in my folding lungs, pushes down on mine own chest.

If only, if only.

I have a theory that a lot of people who are into dark academia are either INTJs or INTPs so I am here to test it

My darling beloved, shall thou use me as a shield from the world? Let me be not thy knight – thou never needed anyone to fight in thy stead. Indeed, may I serve this purpose of mine and ward thee until I fall in ruins? May thou battle fiercely and with fire, even as mine own soul departs from this earthborn body; may thou not weep but soldier on instead. When thou are done, I shall be waiting for thee on the shores of afterlife and never leave thy side again.

You make my soul sing
Now I’m left tossing and turning, a fever dream
In ghost pain my body trembles
At the thought of days where you might not be.

Like a fool, I’ve beared myself to you
So carelessly, I’ve let you pry me open
But I’ve never thrived on regrets
And I can’t live with could-have-beens.
Without you? Maybe,
Though I wouldn’t dare to try.

Oh, how I long to be surrounded by soil and moss,
I crave to graze the earth where no man shall cross,
Run adrift, enfolded in the morning dew’s golden gloss.

My, how I yearn to flee from the cold streets of a city,
The manufactured, man-made, artificial essentiality;
My life only a hinge in a mad machine, as it glides on by.

I lust for a no-man’s-land, I wish to be left wild to roam,
To grow a root wherever I come to a still, call it a home,
Become the nature’s bride until I shall meet my gloam.

As thy knight I swore to never quiver,
An oath broken as out of me pours a red river.
It is not the fear; for I’d rather go now,
My deeds done, I lay to rest my arrow and bow.
In your arms I grow cold and thou weep,
Thou cry out for me as if thou were the one to bleed.
Mark my words and mistake me not; I wish not to leave,
But if it means thou need not, I’ve no regrets to grieve.
Even if my body is cut down on this battlefield,
Even if this time I’ve lost – my soul shall not yield.

I wish I could write thee a letter,
For dear, I am at the end of my tether.
And still, I cannot speak of my passion or sorrow,
Not when I live on emotions I only may borrow.
For this, I must beg thee for pardon –
Not all of us grow with roses in our garden.
Yet on this I shall swear; one day I’ll pen thee none a sweet sonnet,
Only true words that will make thee blush under thy lovely bonnet.

Wait for me, my darling, and I shan’t betray my promise,
Meanwhile, may my artless deceit bring thee temporary solace.

Perhaps I was destined to run from thee
for it seems all I reach for is doomed to die.
Alive – it looks the most lovely on thee,
and I’ve no heart to taint thy beauty with the dreary face of death.
I’m a weak man with a weaker soul, my love; should I come to pass one day, I’ll be laid at thy feet to forever beg for forgiveness.

Once upon the olden days there was a deceitful matron. She’d an eye out for a little lass who had an alley as his hearth and home. She selfishly wanted him – so she came and conquered, took him to her dwellings, gave him refuge in the midst of a minefield.

It took no longer than ‘til the latest hours when he already strayed away on his own, not knowing she’d awoken. The poor boy lost himself deep into the waking night with the north star as his sole companion. And yet, even the starlight shied away at the woman who wished to not let him go. She plagued him as he wept, “I beg of you, have mercy on this meager child.” I heard a hollow laughter and a miserable cry, witnessed her steal an arm to keep a part of the boy by her side.

At last the matron let him flee, supposed he’d evermore be a flightless bird. Still, as the night gave away and the sun rose in the east, he got up on his feet and prevailed in spite of all his misery.

He was free and lone, having fought a losing battle. He went against the odds and lived to see another day, wandered toward newfound glory, fortune and prosper.

So even that little boy thrived – knowing, remembering, celebrating, mourning. And only because he knew and could remember, in the end there was more laughter than there had been sorrow in the night.

Waiting for messages not sent
Longing to answer calls never dialed
Reaching for arms that don’t know how to hold
Leaning to lips I’m not tall enough to kiss
And yet, yet now I grieve
At the memory of you –

I didn’t get the word you’d leave, I didn’t see you go
Though I think I used to, now I cannot dream
As the days bleed I begin to lose my sight
First, I forget the way you used to look
Then how you used to sound
How you felt to touch
Your light perfume
I cannot recall
you.