#poets corner
When I lost you
I pushed aside a part of myself
that no longer felt safe.
I created a new girl,
one who didn’t overstay her welcome
This girl knew distance,
and how to only show just enough
and never too much.
A girl who built herself into a corner,
because being backed into one
can’t be so uncomfortable
if you’ve made it your home.
I know I’ve shared this before but I’m not scrolling through my archives to reblog it it was quicker to just make a new post. I’m going to be sharing a few poems from my Vocal page.
Vocal has made a few updates, they’ve introduced a little feedback thing you can give to writers at the bottom of our pieces but they’ve now also made commenting on peoples work available. So if you like my work of have feedback or anything on it feel free to leave a comment or feedback. You can also give it a heart/like if you wish although idk if you need an account for that tbh.
Vocal does also have an option to leave a tip which is never expected but always appreciate or if you prefer I now have tipping on tumblr as well as my Ko-Fi which I have the link to on my Vocal and there you’ll also find access to exclusive poems for supporters.
For The Girl In Me Who Was Once Afraid.
Today was the final session of the Trauma Therapy Group me and my mum went too. It was really useful and I liked that it was a small group, it made it less scary, overwhelming and such with my anxiety and more accessible.
I feel like I came away with a greater understanding of the connection between trauma and the body. And that maybe it’s now given me the skills to work on that connection and not neglect it i.e forgetting to eat or drink or sleep.
I think sharing this is rather apt given the work I’ve been doing in the group these past 6 weeks. Whilst this starts off sad (it’s a collection of 3 short micro poems) the final poem ends on a rather hopeful tone about my trauma and the way its affected me and it mirrors how I’m feeling no. I feel hopeful that one day I can move past my trauma I know it’s changed me in ways that I’ll never get back the person I used to be, and I no longer crave to be the old me. But there are things that impact my daily life that I hope to overcome, so that I can stop living in the past, stop being so afraid, and to look forward to a brighter future.
This does come with a TW as it does discuss themes of abuse/domestic violence nothing graphic or anything just thats what the poems are about and the first two are sadder. Actually I feel like they represent different stages in my POV on my trauma - the first anger that they could do this to me. The second is sadness, hopelessness almost but mostly just sad and this feeling like I’ll always be haunted by my past hence the hopelessness. But the final one is me accepting or hoping I’d say fits it better, hoping that maybe one day that won’t always be the case I won’t always be haunted or tormented by my past.
It’s a more hopeful outlook than the poem prior and I think for the most part my thoughts now remain similar to the final poem and less so the second but I still struggle to reconcile how they could behave such a way and that conflict is well expressed in the first poem and despite my hope that conflict is still ever present. Anyways this is long enough you didn’t need this explanation/summary on the poems so maybe just go read it instead?
Just posted my first Post+ exclusive poem!! It’s $3.99 a month and I’m offering exclusive poems and other short writing content such as prose and maybe some short stories in the future. Also social media shoutouts and reblogging of your posts although please don’t spam me to reblog like 10 posts in a week try be reasonable in reblog/shoutout requests no spamming basically.
I hadn’t really thought about the shoutouts thing until it had it as a suggested perk I could offer and I thought sure why not add that in.
Anyways I’m excited and will be making sure to post content regularly for subscribers. Idk if this will actually take off or it’ll be a flop but doesn’t hurt to try I suppose. Also let me know if you’ve got feedback like do you think $3.99 is fair or would you rather it be cheaper?
Tumblr gives me a few options on pricing the lowest it goes is $1.99 then it jumps straight to $3.99 but I would consider lowering it at least in the beginning if people are interested but the price is just a bit out of reach for you guys.
i’m laying on his bed;
but all i can think about is the tiny bit
of wallpaper that is scraping off
in the corner by your bedroom door.
he’s cradling my fingers;
but all i can think about is the time
we were talking about the universe and
you absent-mindedly started
tracing stars on my hand.
he’s nuzzling my neck;
but all i can think about is the beautiful mark
you left on my collarbone after we got drunk
at 3am and snuck onto your neighbour’s roof.
he’s caressing my cheek;
but all i can think about is the cold touch
of your fingers that night and
i knew that you had slipped into the darkness
again
and my thighs weren’t warm enough for you.
he’s kissing my lips;
but all i can think about is the curve on your upper lip
and the time we made out for hours
and how you left a horrible taste in my mouth afterwards
because you had gone through two packs of marlboro that day
and how i stayed
even though you gave me every reason to leave
and now i can’t be in bed with a beautiful boy
who likes the way i speak
because all i can think about
is how chapped you left me,
just like your lips.
Let Her Explain
It feels like ice
And a claw
And chalk
And it feels like
Wearing a life vest
But you don’t pull the string
Not yet
Because you’re still deciding
Between sharks
And fatal impact
It tastes like bile
It tastes like steel
It tastes like your father’s words
That nothing bad can ever happen to you
Not while he’s alive
And now you have to taste blood
Because he wasn’t there
And neither was anyone else
It smells like wet cement
It smells like sweat
It smells like
You can never again
wear that scent
It ruined sunsets
It ruined your favorite street
It ruined your kitchen
Your sister’s favorite song
But you’ll be damned
If you let it ruin the one place
You thought you’d always
Belong
But didn’t it?
You throw away the sheets
Your mother bought you for Christmas
And think about the way your Dad
Used to tickle your neck
And you would laugh until you screamed
And now you just scream
It feels like a ghost story
Like you’re in the woods
Just a wolf licking his wounds
Wondering
If time will bring a day
You will no longer have to explain
What it feels like
Is this a love letter or a eulogy?
Why don’t I feel it anymore when other people’s eyes are upon me?
I used to experience desire so vividly
And now it’s
I’m too tired
I’m not in the mood
I guess I’m not feeling so good
And that’s on the good days
Because on the bad nights its
You’re too fat
No one wants to see that
I wouldn’t fuck you
Even if I had the chance
And I say these things to myself in an effort
To justify and understand his want
or lack thereof
How he can just fall asleep next to me
Whisper “goodnight baby”
and his dick isn’t pulsing or any wiser
Of the rhythm between my own thighs
He just lays there and doesn’t realize
And even if he did
He’d probably just shut his eyes.
Every day is just another game of Twister
You turning the spinner
Testing how many ways I’m willing to bend for you until I break.
There isn’t a call you could make
That will unwind the way my guts hang around each other
Contemplating why you are being distant or estranged.
And I’m starting to realize
You may not be mine at all
Belonging only to the version of me that feels safe to be seen
Right foot, green.
“When did your voice stop sounding like home.”
It’s all romantic mystery until they uncover the pain that everything which makes you beautiful was cultivated in such an ugly way// The mirror telling more than an article these days and instead of avoiding my reflection I’ve learned to keep ripping out every page
Like most winter days
With frozen toes
And purple eyes
I spend my time
Drinking tea and shuddering
At the brown, barren world
Wondering if I am perhaps cursed
With too much empathy
That I lay
Like a crunchy leaf
Under the gathering clouds of my own reality
Also waiting for permission
To become part of the dirt
Until I find the strength to be Green once again
I hold onto your memory like scrapped paper and broken rubber-bands// You never know//I might find a use for them again
-Junk Drawer Heart-
I hate the way my mouth tastes after hanging up the phone, eyes and chest heavy, concaving like styrofoam. My thoughts boil rapidly; clumsy lines, blurred vibes, inability to process the emotion behind your reverberating sighs. These bubbles press against my temple as my abdomen begins to tremble-deep lines cutting into my expression, taking form with artistic repression.
Every unfiltered word splinters in a thousand directions, your adoration for my quirks measured loosely by your conditional affection. One day I’m bold and the next I’m aggressive; I don’t know how to be feminine, yet also progressive. You ache for my voice and then speak over me like rain;
I’m trapped in your water, numbed by the pain.
I am not too broken to love. Just too broken to be loved by someone else.
I should’ve stayed with him tonight. I should’ve let him put his hands in my hair and dig his nails into my back. I should’ve pressed my hip bones against him and took out all my anger with my teeth in his shoulder. I should’ve almost said your name and collapsed into an unfamiliar bed. But instead I lay awake in mine, drinking up the poison you left for me instead.
I’ve been burning up for you so fiercely I’ve manifested a fever. My stomach turns like carnival rides and this month I’ve swallowed so much pride it feels like sandpaper sledding down my throat. The only thing more deafening than this silence is the heartbeat in my ears. I’ve scribbled so many messages and sent them with nothing to lose. Please, what can I do? What can I do to get you to stay, or stop myself from loving you?
“Do you believe in love?” No, but I believe in Hell. And am still waiting for life to show me the difference.
“I am so fucking tired of choking on broken promises like smoke. I guess I should’ve realized- I only know to love what burns my throat.”
The last time I saw you
I traced your bones
I needed to know
How close I was
To home
-World Traveler
