haha so yeah i wrote a poem about my poor murdered social skills (i hate you covid, i hate you so much)

April 10th~ i’m worried about her

don’t pretend you don’t know I can’t hear you, just

don’t, you’re inside my head and you know it so 

don’t talk about me like I’m not there, I can hear the whispers just as well as anyone

don’t pretend you’re not worried about me, because you’re me and so I’m worried about me too

don’t act like you don’t go to sleep every night saying “I’m worried about her”, just

don’t, don’t say it like you’re not just worried about yourself

don’t say you don’t think about me, don’t say that the catastrophe today doesn’t mean anything

don’t pretend I can’t hear you, just 

don’t, you’re inside my head and you know I worry about me too, so 

don’t. 

Here's my poem for Day 9: "paradox."

Neither Truth nor Lie

Your lips were ice, your lies I'm counting,

paradox, slip knot, though truth is a fountain

your words are a lake, and I skate over truth

toward paradox, confusion, piling like a mountain.

A horse with no legs, a horse with thirteen:

which one to believe, which one to be seen?

The logic you twist into loops, crochet

into doubled insincerities: what do you mean?

So looking at apples, you learn about crows,

their blackness is truth. Your logic, it grows:

if the barber shaves men who do not shave themselves

well, then who shaves the barber? Who even knows?

Contrapositive, then; that's how it'll be

you make your own lies, describe what you see:

you see truth, fundamental, in crevices lost

and when you control truth, you're finally free.

The logic you rend, the words that you ply,

the mistakes that you make, the mistakes you live by,

they all pale to ash when you utter one thing,

when you say, with a smile,

"this statement's a lie." 

A quick little poem for today to try to break my streak of not writing anything...

NaPoWriMo/Escapril Day Twelve: Comfortable

It feels bad to get comfortable, complicit,

when you know there are problems 

and you know you should be working on them

but your bed is so cozy

and the stack of books is waiting

and you’re tired.

So you don’t do anything today,

you say maybe tomorrow,

it’s not like I can do anything anyway.

But you can and you could and you should,

if only you would stop being so comfortable

and go out there

and take risks

and put in the work.

But it’s just so easy to stay comfortable,

even when you know it feels bad,

even when you know you shouldn’t.

And so you don’t do anything,

and no one does anything,

and the world spirals down down down

into a pit of problems and despair

and suddenly you’re not comfortable anymore

but it’s too late to do anything.

If only you’d stopped being so comfortable before.

If only you’d made yourself try.

If only you’d let yourself think, just for a second,

that sometimes it’s good not to be comfortable.

(Sorry I keep forgetting to post these-) 

April 11th~ eureka!

Usually when one says “Eureka! I’ve found it!”

and the whole rest of it, one is happy, proud, but

not me, not now. I suppose it was, once, but now

my routine is not the “Eureka! I’ve found it!” one, but rather

“…Eureka. I… I’ve found it.”

You know I didn’t ask for this, you know I,

I didn’t want to be more than what I was, I,

I didn’t want to be more than what you thought I was, I,

I didn’t want you to think I was better than you,

not ever, but I guess it’s all ruined now because 

“Eureka, I’ve found it.”

Because I guess we’re not equal anymore in your eyes, because,

because, I guess you think we can’t be friends, I, 

I guess you think I wouldn’t like you anymore but, oh love,

stop being an idiot, please, you’re slowly killing both of us.

I’m still the same old me, I’m still your friend, and

and I never wanted you to think I wasn’t

I only ever got the chance to say “Eureka!” because of you,

you know, I did it all for you but now

now I guess we’ve both ruined it, because the “Eureka” didn’t save us, like…

like I thought it would, it’s slowly killing us both. 

April 12th~ comfortable

being comfortable is more than being comfortable, it’s

more than a warm blanket and pillow with headphones and music on repeat,

more than a book series you have set up to binge read, and 

more than a cup of hot tea just as bitter as tea is supposed to be

being comfortable is escaping from stress, it’s hiding under a blanket with

your headphones on, listening to music on repeat, reading every book you can find

and drinking cup after cup of hot tea

just to drown out the rest of the world, it’s pretending that everything is perfect

like if you can’t see it, it’s not real, but though this blanket blocks out most of the light-

and for that matter, most of the dark-

everything is still real, the dark is still there and everyone is still hurting, maybe even

you, and above all

nothing is perfect.

but i guess we all have to get away from the world sometimes, so 

you know where to find me:

hiding under a blanket with my headphones and a book, drowning out the world 

one cup of tea at a time. 

Hi! I hope it's ok if I join this and post on here sometimes. I've already missed some great prompts, so I might jump back sometimes if that's ok. Here's one for today's prompt, which is mainly about planes but also about... distance I guess? I hope you like it.

Planes

We

are so many miles apart

I don't know how to fix it.

I

know you said you'd turn on airplane mode but

something tells me you didn't. 

You

make all my old daydreams fade away

because you're just boarding a plane now,

but

there's been a distance between us since we met. 

NaPoWriMo/Escapril Day Fifteen: Planes/trains/automobiles

you curl up your legs on the brown leather seat and lean against the cool window,

watching the green countryside pass by in a blur

the wheels rattle on the train tracks in a soothing rhythm: 

kathunk, kathunk, kathunk

you sip a hot cup of tea, careful to keep it from splashing on your lap

you let out a breath and 

the tension seeps from your body

slowly, not wanting to disturb your position too much,

you pull your headphones out of your bag

and slip them in

you pull up a song or a playlist or an album— 

something peaceful, soothing, something that makes you happy— 

and it feels like the music is giving you a hug

so you sip your tea,

and you sway gently to your music,

and you watch the fields turn into forests turn into towns

and everything is okay

April 14th~ wishbone

i pulled the bigger half of the wishbone,

when it came to deciding who got all the luck in this life

i pulled the bigger half of the wishbone just because you were stronger

just because you needed this more than me, because you

pulled with everything you had but 

you, you, didn’t you know that you have to let the other person break the wishbone

if you want the bigger half?

but you never worked that way, you always tried with everything you had

and so i got the bigger half

because i wasn’t strong enough to take the smaller one

i’m still not, i still couldn’t be strong enough 

and, and, and i’m so sorry 

i promise to fix it one day, in another life when i’ll be strong

like you, too 

April 15th~ planes/trains/automobiles

i don’t deserve you, did you know that?

i love you, i hope you know that

i don’t care how far i have to go to show you, it

doesn’t matter how many plane tickets i have to buy

how many times i have to transfer trains

you’re more important than it all, 

i can’t believe i never could make you understand that

i don’t care how much it takes, you mean so much 

so much more than it would ever cost to get to you

i don’t know if i deserve you, but

i love you, i hope you know how much, i hope you know

that will never change, no matter how many miles away you are 

oop, i thought i posted this one? i guess i should also add a note, as i'm reposting it- this isn't meant to attack your beliefs, and i'm really sorry if you feel like it is. this is just my musings about the afterlife, and i'm not saying anyone's wrong or right because as an agnostic person, i don't believe i'll ever be able to know until i, y'know, die. so i'm not trying to say anything that would go against your beliefs. i don't think this poem says anything that would be taken as offensive, but in case it does, again, i'm not trying to attack you or your beliefs and i would never try to do that.

April 13th~ after the afterlife

what if we’re dead? sometimes i think we might be

what if this is the afterlife?

or what if the afterlife is just another version of this one,

what if the afterlife is not the perfect place we want to think it is

maybe it’s just as broken as the life we’re living now

maybe there isn’t a fix-it, maybe if we get through this

we’ll just have to keep climbing a 

stairway with no end in sight

what if we just keep going on, and on

forever, and ever

we’ll never know, so i guess all we can do for now

is keep climbing, and when we get to the top

maybe it’ll get better

or maybe we’ll just have to choose to feel better

like we do now, in our little messed-up reality  

asdfghjkl

I promise to stop forgetting to post these sorry

April 16th~ bird of paradise

little bird of paradise, you’ll set the world on fire some day

each of your petals slowly emerging from your unremarkable self

but when you’re done, believe me, you’ll be extraordinary

bird of paradise, with your orange and red fire

maybe you’re nothing now, but

you’ll light the world aflame one day, you in all your glory

my lovely bird of paradise, believe me

the fire might scare you, but i promise it’ll never hurt you

the world has set a wall of fire around you, but

when you make it through sparks will fly

beautiful bird of paradise, not all fire will burn you

and when the world starts to burn, you’ll be there to make sure it doesn’t

because even though you’ll set the world on fire

you’re not the one who will destroy it. 

April 17th~ power

your feet hurt, your legs burn

you can’t run any further, you think

if you stop now you know you’ll-

keep running, you need to

if not for yourself you need to keep

running, sprinting, fleeing

being brave, strong for everyone else

everyone else who wasn’t

it’s not easy, you can’t pretend it is

you can keep running

pretend the world is like a battery

everything that has happened 

has happened to converge here

on this point, when you have to keep running

when you have to keep going but

you don’t think you can

the world is your battery, and

you’re the only one who can run any longer

it’s in your hands-

please be selfish enough to use it.