#rebumbleblossoms
“distance makes the heart grow fonder”
has always been a lie…
distance makes the heart grow weary
of waiting on replies
the poet
fear me
for i am unafraid to live alone until i want you
fear me
for i will never need you by my side
but love me
because one day i’ll choose my forever muse
and if you love me well,
then maybe… just maybe… i’ll choose you.
stop and watch the sunset;
a pause, a breath…
a reset
the French word for tongue is langue
and i let it lounge on my lips like a lover
curl around my heart like a prayer
as i remember -
langue
the language of lovers, the curse of the saints
the tongue, the source of sin
the lie of a liar, the praise of a win
the tongue, la langue
something so strong, it breaks hearts and wills
something so quick, it’s silver, never still
la langue
no longer has the power to devour my words
la langue
no longer caught in a closing throat
la langue
no longer;
my tongue,
i conquer.
The tarot deck speaks to me-
major arcana; the fool
I thought you’d understand by now
that the universe
ebbs and flows
karma comes back in threes, dear jester
are you absolutely sure
that you’re ready to reap
what you’ve sown?
I can forget, but the universe won’t // hnl 2020
I had a dream that I was talking to god in a greenhouse.
I walked around for awhile until I came to a stairwell that lead to what looked like the Garden of Eden, only darker. I started making my descent when a voice boomed overhead.
“You may ask me one question.”
I stalled for a second. My belief in god wavered over the last 5 years. The only spirituality I felt came from my own existence. Still, I wondered. I continued stepping.
“Who is my soulmate? Is that easy enough for you?”
I smiled like a jackass and looked towards the garden, hoping I’d see the face of the person who was meant for me. Suddenly everything in the room went dark. The flowers in bloom wilted and the steps started to disappear underneath me. The handrails I was grasping onto coiled like snakes and wrapped around me with a vengeance. I was lifted up towards the only light left in the room, a sunroof. The rails wrapped around my neck and I started to cry. The voice returned, but it sounded angry.
“That was the wrong question. You don’t have one.”
I woke with a start and realized that I had been crying. As I calmed myself down, I looked at my hands and feet. The realization started to flow through me like water.
I am meant for me, no one else. Maybe not even god.
the dream I had on Wednesday // hnl 2020
There are some days that I’m angry for not being soft and admirable. I wish I were the type of girl who is made from sunshine and a warm breeze. I wish that with each step I take, I leave a mess of wildflowers behind me.
But I am a girl made from thunderstorms and peach pits. I am empty wine bottles and broken bones. My soul has a few cracks, but I am not shattered. There is power in my voice and song, and while I may not leave behind flower petals, my footsteps are not ignored.
No, I am not a girl made of sugar and spice. But I am made of scraped knees, innocent “I love you’s,” and a starlight that can’t be touched.
wilting roses, steel cores // hnl 2020
Today, I didn’t think of you when I woke up. Today, when something funny happened, I didn’t reach for my phone to call you. Today I looked in the mirror and realized that it’s possible to love my life the way that it is. Today was the first time in a long time that I felt alive.
today, yesterday, tomorrow// hnl 2020
Her eyes held malice when she looked at me; her mouth told lies and took advantage of my naivety. This is wrong, I think. This hurts, I think. This is going to break my heart. I still cry when she leaves.
the girl with a chip on her shoulder// hnl 2020
