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singing undergroundI call myself a cicada:singing underground
my love is under frozen ground. but in spring, i come up for air. i climb to the tops of branches. i let the sunlight catch on luminescent wings. and i can breath. and i can make a thousand babies the size of gumdrops. and i can sing. i can sing so loud that the silence is
numbing.
if you can just wait...spring is so soon. i promise i can sing.
you tell me that: “cicadas are just insects” and that after mating, i would shed my summer skin, and dig back underground. &n
by ~kahteeha
taking on water.there is a thunderstorm calling the birds home. (even in the rain, her lips were a tidal wave of cherry red bombing you out of the water.) this grey dark reminds me oftaking on water.
the time we taught trees to be astronauts, when we reached out with child fingers and eyes so bright to catch our own piece of sky. (we put them in mason jars with holes poked
in the lid and a twig and a piece of grass.
they crawled along the sides and glowed
feeble and yellow, nothing like the movies.)
the spines of my house are visible through the ceiling, wher
by ~iLISI
the taste of atmosphere.i.the taste of atmosphere.
caught in between electrical outlets and atoms of charged stratosphere, you ignored the burnt bridges and readied your bound parachute wings to sail us across the gaping wound that they sewed together with stitches like mountains, deep and rough and rainy.
iii.
when i was nine i forgot how to fly because i learned
the face of fear and i saw all the skeletons in her closet before i pulled my eyelids closed like blinds. but they couldn't stop my brain from skipping over the same scene in black and white, the dead flesh of an ancient grainy movi
by ~iLISI
tidal volume.a. i was sitting in between ribs like prison windows and cracking my knuckles over the keys of visceral organs, wondering if you’d hear the song from your chest cavity. the stars are tidal pools thattidal volume.
push my breath back into my skull, grating along a split tongue
and stilts for teeth. the moon pulled me back into your gravity.
b. we're like animals with our fox skin, our salted paws and knees. i've looked into many sunsets and have found none so beautiful as your
moon burnt bones and eyes. i dreamt that when i would wake at night, you'd &nbs
by ~iLISI
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I write for the same reasons I breathe and blink: it keeps me alive, and it's more than just a reflex.
The Ultimate Written OC Meme: [link]
<3
guess what, my dear?
[link] you've been featured. long overdue.
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
you are TOO MUCH.
i love you sooo muchchhchchhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
<3
personally, i think it was well-deserved.
(iloveyoutoo.<3)
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
[link]
--
I write for the same reasons I breathe and blink: it keeps me alive, and it's more than just a reflex.
The Ultimate Written OC Meme: [link]
<3 you always and forever.
--
I write for the same reasons I breathe and blink: it keeps me alive, and it's more than just a reflex.
The Ultimate Written OC Meme: [link]
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