#poemblr

they repeated
that your story didn’t matter -
a mantra
they couldn’t calculate
the value of the sun.

-value, Kelsey Ray Banerjee

Cicada Summer

For@nosebleedclub may prompt #2

transcript under the cut

[transcript:

the sweat drips down my back

and the loud beating of my heart

almost drowns out the buzzing

of the cicadas

the words are in my throat

if only I could push them out

if only I was brave enough

to be honest

if only I was enough.

the moon illuminates the sky

and you turn your face to the dark

to watch it

and I’m watching you

how the white of the moon washes

over your face

and somehow makes you

look more serene than before

and when you turn to look back at me

I pretend I was looking at the moon too

for once I’m glad for the cicadas

without them you would surely hear

my wild heart

and my heavy breathing” [/end]

I FOUND GOD

transcript under the cut

[transcript:

“I found god

but I think I lost him.

He must have rolled under the bed

into a dark, quiet corner

where no one will bother him.

I must have overwhelmed him

when I asked for guidance

and forgiveness

and love, too.

I demanded and demanded until he hid.

I am more selfish than I realize.

The bruises on my hands

and the blood drip dripping down my nose

and the aching in my side

are my own burden to bear.

I found god

but I think I

drove him away

and I won’t see him

ever again.

I found god

and I pushed him away

when I thought I was

pulling him in.

I suppose my cardinal sin

is my desperation” /end transcript]

VALENTINE’S DAY

transcript under the cut.

[transcript: “The ground dropped from under me

and I reached a desperate hand up to grab for you.

One moment you were there,

the next you weren’t at all.

Suddenly I am left with nothing

but this deep aching in my chest.

I am a child again,

grabbing on to my parents’ legs as they leave me behind,

tear-streaked cheeks and a raw throat.

Something ugly swells in my chest.

I left my childhood behind years ago.

How did you place it back in my hand?

I convinced myself you wanted me

the way I wanted you.

First mistake—or maybe the second.

Maybe the first was letting you into my heart at all.

I never should’ve let my imagination run wild.

Anyway, kiss your girlfriend for me,

Sweet and slow and promising.

Maybe then I can finally right my wrongs.” /end]

poem transcript under the cut.

[transcript: “Can you believe this is still us?

Passing moments turn into months

turn into years

turn into lifetimes.

The blood on my hands is a deep red

and stains my heart

forever.

The wound is

too deep

to heal.

Can’t you see?

We’re no good

for one another.

Don’t you wish

it could be different?

Don’t you wish that

all that glitters

is truly gold?

Let go of my hand.

Open your eyes.” [/end]

transcript under the cut

[transcript: that evening an apology was on the tip of my tongue

but the words melted in my mouth

like the blueberry sorbet we ate together

and I couldn’t tell you how much

you meant to me so you frowned

and looked away and still

I couldn’t push it out

so I pushed you away instead

and the hurt on your face

still haunts me in my dreams

I didn’t mean to hurt you

I’ve just forgotten what it’s like to be human

the last time I felt joy was

before my mother died

and without her I’m just going through the motions

of being the perfect son and the forgiving brother

and I can’t stay focused unless I’m counting

down the minutes to my death

to the monotonous pounding of my sneakers on the track and my pulse in my ears

but next time I see you I promise I’ll finally have a real apology for you and

I know words will never be enough but

let me show you that I mean it,

let me drop to my knees and

beg for it and

let me show you off the way I was too scared to before and

let me never kiss anyone else ever again

because I only want you

and our afternoons in the lake and

your head resting on my shoulder.

I only want you. [/end transcript]

SIGNED, SEALED, BURNED

poem transcript under the cut.

[transcript: “Something I wished to tell you but

could never bring myself to say:

I kissed your hair that night when you fell asleep

in my arms.

I don’t think you felt it but I wish you had.

I can never put my love into words.

Let this be enough:

Two arms around your torso and

my lips on your forehead

and the orange we shared,

how the slices made our fingers sticky

and the juice dripped onto the bed.

When you nearly fell and instinctively

reached for my hand

and you didn’t let go,

even when you regained balance

and I wished we could stay like that forever,

fingers interlocked and palms pressed together.

But eventually you let go

and my hand is still cold

because it remembers your warmth.

Here’s the letter I will never send to you,

the one I will throw into the fire once I have confessed my sins:

You almost kissed me at the lake

and I don’t know what stopped you.

Were you scared?

I wouldn’t have pushed you away.

I would’ve reciprocated without a moment’s hesitation.

Worst of all:

I wish I could omit the almost from my memory

(you kissed me at the lake).

That is the tale I will tell myself.

You were mine, once. (Almost. Almost.)” [/end transcript]