*succumb*

cut me open with

your tongue

bleed freely into every crack

I want to taste every droplet

of your dark and light

I suckle the grey

feasting upon your gifts

addicted

anxiously awaiting

the next hit of you

take me to your alter

I lay freely before you

bare ; naked

silent hymns released

only to the utterance

of your distinct melody

echoed

locked-in the heart chambers

my pulse evident

throbbing

unleashing rivers of ecstasy

to fill your cup

allowing it to run over

surrendered

pressing in

euphoric melding

into the core

crashing waves

as charmed starlit spasms

tingle up the spine

exhalation

*********

please

let me

drown

© ScriptedSilence.  All rights reserved

Pic credit - Jacob Sutton

* vault of transparency *

aches and shallow breaths

penetrating walls

caving in

parched lips cracked upon

reciting words

the deceitful dim light continues to fade

as the lid slowly closes in

my outstretched hand beckons you

to come

meet me here

In this place

bring life to this weary soul

a heated tenderness saturated in warm embraces

awaken these bones with your closeness

I need to feel you

breathe upon me

crumble my walls with your depth of understanding

I delve into compassion which falls from your truthful tongue

loosening chain links

as the veil falls

and the masks shatter at our bare feet

naked pores glisten

silently pleading

for uninhibited fingertips

caressing scarred wounds

kissing callouses

as healing finally bleeds

flesh upon flesh

in the vault of transparency

© ScriptedSilence.  All rights reserved

Pic credit- Fraenkel Gallery

* november *

the frigid air

slowly saturates 

the hidden winds 

nature speaks through 

it’s windy hazel lenses 

as the hibernating paint strokes

makes the long awaited 

grand finale entrance 

the cinnamon coated breeze 

cascades behind the

hidden trees

awakening and shaking

the breathtaking vibrant leaves

one by one

they slowly begin to fall

dancing upon the 

golden field’s call 

the sun glistens down

smiling, 

while no one is around 

shining brightly 

while secretly speaking

to all of these majestic harvesting jewels

and their pumpkin filled senses 

the roots are strong

unable to waiver

yet the branches

reach, embrace

and bask

in this treasured

nature’s spicy scented flavor

kissing the morning dew

only then to 

anxiously await

the stars and love

of the nightly

favored moon

and all of his

whispered November 

autumn 

lullaby swoons

©  ScriptedSilence.  All rights reserved

* forever friend *

you love hard,

even on days I don’t know 

that it exists or show it 

you make me laugh, 

when I feel my world 

is crashing down 

you hold me tight, 

when I have no words 

to utter the need for comfort 

you wipe my tears, 

as you tell me 

everything will be ok

you have watched me succeed, 

with a bright smile 

to remind me

that you told me I could do it 

you have seen me fail, 

only to tell me

when doors close 

it only means another - of greatness

awaits my presence 

and will open 

you have kept me strong, 

when I felt as though weakness

is all that would possibly surface 

you are the very promise

and constant true commitment 

every single day  

in the depths of quiet solitude 

or the loudness of a busy life 

that I will 

have a forever friend

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

Pic credit - Monika Luniak

I fell asleep and into your arms

Lying there luxuriating in bed

In each other; raptly willing to watch those eyes

–More than anything any app could stream–

Surface rippling rivetingly

Intimating all that teems beneath

Yet somehow riveted on me

Heart-racing soul-stirring

Embracing as the flame burns hotter

Stroking innocently until the intent

Gains in momentum, in urgency

Only we’re not alone, witnesses surround

So we furtively glance around tickling

Ears with our murmurings

Plotting to sneak away…our stares

And sighs asking, why wait?

They matter too but not as much

As we do, as our untamable

Urges do, at this moment

If this be no more than a one-time

Wonderful dream detour

Another almost–but a bittersweet

Tantalizing taste

Would it be better preserved

That way or a crying shame waste?

Will I ever even have a say

When awake?

Don’t mean to be crude

Or intrude but I can’t keep it in

Can’t quit thinking of you

Your eyes mesmerize my days

So how could they not pierce

Through gauzy nights?

Emblazoned pleasingly on the inside

Of mine shut tight an enticing interlude

Until we can resume our intense

Contact–where my cloudy blues

Can marvel at your velvety browns

And all they exude: soulful

Yet with an unmistakable impish

Sheen irresistible a charming prelude

To danger but of the best kind

Usually play it safe now don’t mind diving

Head first to find what goes on behind

The humor, insight, even deepest

Channels of your mind…until then

Fantasizing in the dark

Your eyes the spark leading

Me breathlessly to a rendezvous

With the arresting

Rest of you

I dreamt you

No you’re real

Still I don’t know you well

Most especially not the way you came

To me in my dream state

How to put into words something

So no-holds-barred passionate

Frenzy escalating at a just-right rate?

Pulsating with need, freed from

Everyday brain-numbing constraints

Delirious yet decidedly lucid

Abrading yet making every ache better

Via ecstatic escapades; exhaltations

In every exhalation escaping trembling

Lips loosened easily–volume rising

With each vibration from you to me

Enough to quake me awake wondering

Why you and why in this unexpected way

Is my subconscious playing dirty

Tricks on me? If I go to bed

And you meet me there

Another go-round would be

Icing on the cake

You returned to me

Recently in a dream

Wearing endearing earnestness

Smile like a secret let out

Wistfully asking me to remember you…

As if I could ever forget…

Even when I want to. Like trying to sleep

Through the night without waking

Again with you nowhere known

To me, alone; you long moved on

Within me daily wars are waged

Against your memory

I’ve lost yet another round

Even reminders of the good times

Bring stinging tears to my eyes so why

Would I want to remember anything?

Maybe one day I will get to a place

Where I can behold a sunny day

And not see your face (making mine

Wet with drops of pain) and perhaps

Not question if it was all a bad mistake

But this heart needs more time to heal

From decimated dreams that once felt

Oh so real…reality still the chill

Churning through my veins

I try in vain to shake

Bridging the gap

At Making-a Pass

Between a rock and a hard place

“Accidentally” landing

In this lap…not another tourist

Trap…want me to scratch

Your back or whichever

Itch within reach?

Is there an app for that?

Apparently. Still your eye wanders to me

Well if you’d look closely

Surely see baggage needing

To be unpacked and sorted

Folded flat, nice and compact

So strap on in; disregard the crammed

Luggage rack–heaven forbid anything

Distract from your single-

Minded track

Continuing

There is silence in consistency

without jolting, halting, or hesitancy

the quiet purr of persistency

lets life slip by unnoticeably

There is music in perpetuity

the urgent rhythm of continuity

drives the song of ingenuity

to appreciate life less casually

n.a.

I’m always kissing you like it’s the last time / Always hesitating, stuttering, stumbling over my words / Trying to make the moment perfect / Thinking this time it has to be perfect / Because the thought of anything less is unbearable / How do I reconcile myself to the fact that I will never have this back / This moment where the light is hitting your face just right / Where your eyes are squeezed shut and I want to hold you for just a minute longer / Stay a little while / Stay just long enough to feel like I have made the most of this precious time / I have to know that I’ve loved you right / That I’ve tried / That I’ve been stubborn and unwilling to settle for lukewarm / That I felt the weight of our lives and tried to carry them anyway / Kept the heaviest memories in my pockets like stones / Promised myself to skip them over the water later / There has to be space for more 

nowadays, i dream of warmth. of fingertips against skin, arms around a waist, of a mouth against a neck.

i dream of entwined hands. of feet pressed together, of leaning against a shoulder, of hair sticking to cheeks.

nowadays, i feel like a dream. insubstantial. like if you tried to place a hand on my heart, you’d fall right through.

it’s getting colder and i can’t tell when i’ll wake. i smell smoke but i can’t feel a thing. if i try hard enough, i can remember what it felt like, to carry more than embers in my fists.

tell me we’ll never get used to it / that we never take our entwined hands for granted again / that we’re grateful for every embrace / every meeting that isn’t through a phone screen / that we dance for hours the first time we can dance with each other / cry when we can blow out candles on a cake together / hold each other’s faces and say i’m glad you exist / i’m glad i met you in this life / i’m glad i got to live through the good the bad the ugly with you / i hope we never stop being amazed by all this love / how despite everything, it survived

he calls her komorebi; sunlight falling through the trees. he kisses you and the word seems to get stuck between your teeth. 

you stuttering poet girl, nothing but a mouthful of other people’s stories. you, with your stained hands and bleeding heart. you, graceless and tripping over your own feet, trying to keep up with the music, with him. you foolish girl, hoping that you’re worth more than a verse. you, perpetually messy, all your love spilling out of your arms and onto the floor. you, damaged but never delicate. only filled with light when it falls through the cracks in your armor, only golden for a moment. 

you who will never be as perfect as the light falling through the trees, but sometimes you pretend, close your eyes and let yourself float down with the leaves.

i’m sitting on the kitchen counter listening to that song i reminded you of. i feel seen, and for once i am not scared, i am euphoric.

i feel beautiful in all my messy glory; so incredibly loved, flaws and all. my hair slipping out of my bun and my favorite t-shirt off my shoulder, and now i’m dancing by myself to this song. i’m smiling for the first time in days, jumping over cracks in the tiles and hitting all the right notes. 

i’m aware that we romanticize tragedy far more than we should, that the sad poems are often the most popular, but i want to remember this. capture this mundane moment in these lines. if the future is dark, i’m taking all the light i have with me, keeping it my pockets and diving headfirst. jump with me.

you say, “the world is ending,” and i laugh and say, “when is it not?”

there’s still flowers blooming and people singing and your fingers resting on the small of my back. that pink dress you like, my legs pressed against yours, your smile against mine. you said you’ll love me till the end and i’m watching you prove it. we’re dancing in the ashes, leaving our hurt behind with the footprints.

you spin me around and i watch our memories on your walls. if we disappear tonight, i want us to be remembered for how fiercely we loved, how stupidly optimistic we stood in the face of the apocalypse, how we kissed through the darkness and held on till dawn.

i want the silver linings, something beautiful salvaged from this wreckage. tell them the world got ugly but we didn’t let it touch us. that we refused to take our rose-colored glasses off.

tell them it wasn’t all bad. that we held something lovely in the palms of our hands, and it wasn’t heavy. not at all.

i haven’t written in a while because all the words lead back to you, all these unfinished poems lined up outside my window banging against the glass screaming, “do you remember?”

i do

i do

i do

but writing about us feels like the time somebody tried to put a camera between us when we slow-danced, as if that moment of intimacy was meant for public consumption.

this is private.

my heartbreak is mine alone. i’m tired of offering up pieces of myself, waiting for someone to see something they can understand. something they can carry gently and take home and keep.

i understand if this is hard to swallow. if it leaves a bad taste on your tongue. i have burn marks on my fingertips from trying to rescue it. there is nothing pretty left here and i don’t think i can be it. i tried to be your beautiful girl, tried to be your favorite memory but, all i can remember is the broken way i asked you if you ever loved me and how you said, “of course”.

as if that fixed everything.

and i’m sorry, okay, i’m sorry that this was not the narrative you wanted. i tried to make it pretty, i promise. i cleaned up the blood and bile and hurt. i kissed you instead of telling you i was losing my mind, because you didn’t have space for another mess.

but i don’t think i have it in me to clear my insides off the floor.

you can take your knife and go.

our story is not just one of transformation, of seasons passing. it’s also a story of passion. of a love that has teeth. of a love that bites back.

a story where you call me persephone, and i look you in the eye as i crack a pomegranate shell. where i feel each seed on the palm of my hand. feel the weight of my decision. where i hold it up to my lips and smile at the power i can taste. where i bite down into our future, and you can’t look away from my reddened lips.

this is a story of indulgence. where we sink into the world, where we stay intoxicated off wine and each other’s presence.

if they call this a sin, i will gladly be a sinner. if they call you a villain, i’ll let them see my claws. my sharp teeth. how i’ve never been the damsel-in-distress.

i’ve followed you into the darkness, and i’ll laugh and kiss you through it.

you tell me that i’d reached the center of your universe, that i occupied the space you walled off from everyone else. 

i try to tell you that stumbling into love with you felt more like entering a hall of mirrors. i kept reaching out with my hands like a child hoping to find something solid, something real, something other than my fear and confusion. 

like i could hear music somewhere in the distance but couldn’t figure out the lyrics. 

like every time i said i missed you, it was just my own mouth repeating the words back at me. 

like i cut my fingers trying to feel my way out.

like i left a thousand different images of me burned into this reality and still didn’t feel substantial enough for you. 

There is a boy looking at you, holding your face with his artist’s hands, and you want so badly to take your own and crush his heart between them because the way he just leaves it out in the open makes you more angry than it should. 

You’re angry because he has the audacity to wear his hurt without shame, when you carry the stink of it on your skin. When anyone else who smells it on you looks at you like you’re damaged. Like whatever is left is evidence of ruin. 

You want to tell him that you’re hollow and that you ran out of the words he fell in love with a long time ago. You stand in front of this beautiful boy and can hardly breathe through your envy because he has the words needed to leave his pain outside, and all you have is your rage. 

When he calls you beautiful, it feels like a joke. 

And maybe you want to destroy any traces of hope because why should this boy, who holds his pain in his eyes like he isn’t afraid of how you might use it against him, have any? Why should he not learn the lesson they forced down your throat? 

But he’s reaching out for you with those gentle hands and you find yourself holding them, anchoring him, and he says, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”, and your anger goes cold and you feel absolutely nothing, all iced out and empty.

That’s what you tell yourself anyway, but some part of you wonders what it must feel like, 

to reach out and be offered kindness.