City Songs

This city sings its songs to me but I can’t work out the notes to transcribe them
This city reads its poems out loud but I can’t work out the words to write them
Still I listen
Still I listen
This city doesn’t know
Of the dreams I hung on the moon
With the mountains of my province
As my ladder
I was not planted here
And my roots are unsure still
Curious and terrified
Confusion reigning
But this city reserves a hand for me to hold
This city lets me listen to its sound
To its breathing
To its heartbeat
And this city listens to mine

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1st of November Entry

I wish it was easier to not be bothered by blank pages… But it’s not. Especially when your mind keeps ratting out on you just until it convinces you to write something, anything so that this page wouldn’t look as empty as how your eyes are looking lately. I’ve been so empty. Probably because I’m done with all the crying. And we all know what that means, time for a void to settle in. How fucking surprising, right? I know… I knew. I just thought it’d arrive sooner and leave immediately, before December, before my birthday, before Christmas. Because last year, this was present. This was everywhere. And that birthday was the worst. I just don’t want to feel this anymore, okay? I’m so tired of all the shit I put myself through. And like the fool I am, I still keep placing myself in the middle of the storm anyway.

If I ask the world nicely, will it whisper its answer to me?

I.

And tell me world

      Will you tell me?

      Before I go flying off again to universes

      That only ever exist in the palms of my    

      Hands, in my bones crackling under my    

      Own weight, in my bloodstream flowing

      Life after life; death after death

And tell me world

      Will you tell me?

      Before I sail towards patched up cities     

      Merging with distant lands written in the  

      Storybooks I’ve read in the past my mind

      Will never allow me forget and the        

      Storybooks I write in the present

II.

And tell me world

      Will you tell me?

      Before I let my heart take over and you

      Know how my heart can be–

      Drawing on walls with colors it can’t

      Even pronounce; painting on faces it

      Could barely recognize; creating

      Something without hesitation even if it

      Doesn’t know what it is it’s creating

Continue reading “If I ask the world nicely, will it whisper its answer to me?”