late luminescence

Lives and experiences are soft orbs of water
flowing between palms,
the soft murmur of lovely description
scrunching between toes,
the lightning of raw truth
condensing into the same letters
as the rigid flexibility of plot

weaving so seamless
they don't realize they're crying
til the tears have blotted the page
the pure pride radiating
heart thumping on the page
when it's alive

some days, when there's a blue sky
adorned with gold and wind
beaming on my head,
I claim it as my right.

Because I want to.
Because I need to.
Because I can.


edited on: 6/30/23
Posted On: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/35464

a fallen angel
broken wings folded around the shards
of the hell that clung to her emerging scales
she plummeted toward the earth
and you didn’t care
so she pummelled the ground
and you let the ground pummell her
the once brilliant feathers 
so white you saw rainbows
dyed by the ink of tears
she wasn’t supposed to be able to cry
but her eyes know now
they shimmer like brunt diamonds
their swords poised with betrayal and hate
taken from the curvature of her ribs
filled with everything you let her do to herself
you promised you wouldn’t
one at your head
at your heart, your throat
and sharpened by years of denial
but just as you closed your eyes
the metallic tang already filling your mouth
ruby sparkling on the tip of her tongue
they metal strikes, impales soft flesh
and you open your eyes to see the rubies
crown her queen
before she slumps on the ground
pools of a momentary love, empty
a dull diadem anointing her brow
a dead angel
fallen, right into your palm
but your angel all the same

There is a girl
As white light streams through half closed shutters
and the morning silence prods me awake
far, far too early my palms tell the sky
as i reach for my brain, somewhere still in dreamland clouds
welp, my fault for allowing
the morning in before noon
the silence fills my ears, and in truth
the silence is just the type of neighborhood silence
you hear so often you become deaf to it
a lawn mower, the birds
bustling people in speeding cars
the sirens screaming for them to move aside
a buzz from my phone, and I pounce
i admit, I'm a kind of deranged animal now
when it comes to the outside world
but for my friend in Tokyo, I'm every bit civil
and when she goes off to shower
we exchange ttyl's and get on with
our own versions of living
somewhere, a tiny human is being born
into this beautifully corrupt world
and somewhere else, another is leaving
there is ebullient laughter, there is debilitating tears
just think about how insignificantly important 
everyone is in the grand scheme of things
but in my tiny bubble in this little old corner
that is somewhere in the middle of nowhere
which, is technically everywhere
dancing with the winter blanket
typing on keys that never type
anything good enough
there is a girl

A boy and a girl, together, (oh it couldn't ever be friendship, no, it is of course good-natured teasing & popcorn fights & midnight cuddling & pillow kisses, which of course leads to scattered shattered heart shards lining their brows and so these) whispers in the dark blaringly become demands-- nip the bud, protect, shield, yank out the roots -- and the blossom drowned in their river of assumptions and probably's becoming a girl & a boy, apart.

Cold silver jewels / scraping down my face / no clear reason at all /or maybe every one of the infinite reasons the world gives us to mourn / collecting rainbow-less drops overflowing in cupped hands / splayed out on the bed / brittle laughs broken / the effort cracks me down the middle / dim light hacks me open / all that spills out are more / pointless glittering rubies and diamonds / loose curtain brushes against my wooden arm / am i simply a chest for worldly wants?

my fingers shimmer with glitter / frigid moisture turns to lead / pouring out of my being onto the page / staining my fingers with what I should desire / weightless lack of substance made of heavy stones they call gems / filling the empty etched in my bones / the gaps between pale ribs / the slats of the floorboards / the cracks of the shutters / why have you let all the lovely dreams out?

my stomach growling for carnival candied apples / eyes salivating for the sight of dying suns / ravenous for material lives / the scattered pencils on dusty floors shoot me in the foot / falling deeper into the wooden abyss / a chest, or a coffin?

pricking my fingertips on their definitive edges / savor the sweet, sweet pain / sew the stars into my skin / a shard of my shattered, useless heart, a needle / slick hair drenched with blood, thread/ darling, don't be scared / I've turned myself into your goddess / gruesome, is it? / isn't this all you ever wanted?

Summer heat has hit
curdling languishing laughter
into a relentless aura of inward hostility
Huffs and annoyed sighs between 
words shaved down to the bone
the vain sun's long gone
but the heat has seeped into the floorboards
like poison ivy creeping up dinner chairs
slipping in the pulsing veins on my neck
sucking all the love out of even My Little Pony
that yammers ebulliently on the TV screen
brittle patience cracks, sparks flying off my tipsn 
one catches on a loaded grenade
fracturing the evening cool
let's hope as we take out the trash
the attitudes go too

Birds outside making quite a ruckus
seems louder in the broken silence
shifting sheets and clacking keys
I could swear their gossiping about me
although, I would say I'm going rather crazy
after all, I had an enlightening conversation
with my jeans the other day

Lying in bed rather uncomfortably
stuck between the sweaty weight
and the unforgiving headboard
thank god for ariel & strawberry shortcake
my most loyal protectors make perfect headrests
darling pillows are fabulous mediators
5 stars, and highly recommended

dark encroaching on the corners of my vision
face lighted by my true love,
a guiding star in this desolate life of mine,
my chromebook
Some may call this a toxic relationship,
after all, it does drive me crazy most days
I scream at it, it shuts down
me, begging for it's forgiveness 
making up in the darkest of times
everyday, repeat!

hm, perhaps the birds are right on this one