∙ Juniper Lark ∙

... 

“What’s wrong?” they ask.

- 

This heavy weight is shackled at my ankles,

A dreadful ache in the pit of my stomach,

A tense and tugging string,

Pulling at the joyful smile you place across my features.

-

“I can see the end,” I whisper.

-

And it comes crashing down—

This house we’ve built—

A truly beautiful thing,

Painted scarlet with love.

-

“Is this it?” they ask.

-

I can’t say it aloud,

For that would make it all too real,

And the pain would sing,

Shattering the glass of our hearts.

-

“I think so,” I whisper.

- 

The tears fall,

Lamenting sobs and desperate glances,

Together our bodies cling,

Dancing in the rubble of our home.

- 

“Why does it have to end?” they ask.

- 

It’s the stark contrast of us,

The emerging departures between,

And the directions our futures surely will swing,

Settling us at opposition.

- 

“Sometimes love just isn’t enough,” I whisper.

- 

So, we say goodbye,

Glancing warmly with candid adoration,

As the orchestra plays its final string,

And our lips bid farewell.

... 

Maybe this is the perfect beginning.

- 

We stand together,

Admiring the freshly poured concrete,

Hand in hand,

Gleeful and giggling under a glistening sun.

-

When the walls stand tall,

We adorn them with paint and picture frames,

Hang tapestries in the halls,

Calmy content in celebration.

-

A crack reaches down from the ceiling,

Nothing that we can’t fix,

Or work around,

Trusting together we will triumph.

-

But the air now reeks of sulfur,

And perhaps the smell was there before,

Lingering above our brow,

Wandering, waiting, warning.

-

Gas leaks into the cracks of our home,

Alight from sparks of stray wires,

Forging fire in its tracks,

Racing, raising, reducing our home to ash.

-

As smoke hangs heavy in the air,

We dance in the heat of the flames,

Burns creeping up our skin,

Damaging, destroying, draining our love.

-

Our house wasn’t built to last,

Doomed from the beginning,

Unsteady atop a foundation of silt,

Scorching and slowly sinking.

-

It was beautiful while it lasted.

...

Will anyone mourn me?

Will I be laid,

Gently,

Or tossed aside?

 -

Is my headstone unwatched?

Or is it scored,

Notched,

With my own name?

 -

Is there a growing crowd?

Is a plaudit

Vowed,

With affection?

 -

If I see you, undone,

I’ll know that some

One

Really did care.

Happy Holidays to all and especially to my Secret Santa buddy @cruxymox​ ! Hope you enjoy your present :)

...

Writing.

 -

It starts off with a blank page, a blinking cursor,

Stuck in the real world of ticking clocks and clocks ticking,

Never enough time, never enough inspiration,

In a car driven on autopilot, a cramped cubicle, or a bleak silence.

 -

Escape into the realm of possibilities, of wonder,

A dense forest of thoughts,

No rules, no path, no organized way through,

Slash through branches, explore the chaos.

 -

Keys wait to be pressed, to mark a new path,

Start and stop and stop and start again,

Two steps forward, three steps back,

Wrong turn, retrace your steps, find what feels right.

 -

A walking pace, a pause, a jog and a sprint,

Let your mind wander from deadlines, and emails, and routine,

Embrace the unknown, the happy, the sad, the angry,

Let emotion light up a path through the forest.

 -

Let out the words trapped inside that suffocating cubicle,

Turn the lock’s key and uncover a hidden mirror,

Face the reflection that stares back at you,

Face its fears and its triumphs and its regrets.

 -

When your mind has traced a path across the keys,

Sit back and marvel at the words that have poured out,

A waterfall into a river, discovered in a hidden clearing between trees,

Think of this oasis when silence is deafening, and noise is all-consuming.

 -

Escape.

...

…

You.

-

 I didn’t want to love you.

It was nothing personal, really,

I didn’t want to love anyone,

Not the way that I have come to love you.

 -

But your smile.

Your saccharine smile,

And your words made of honey,

And your skin made of silk.

 -

You were so intoxicating and any doubts were long forgotten.

I was drunk on the warmth that radiated between us,

The hearty laughs that rang from your perfect lips,

The love that welled up within me at every sight of you.

-

Your strong arms wrapped around my broken pieces.

They healed old wounds that had haunted me for ages,

And soft lips locked against my own,

Chasing out the shadows that lingered in the forgotten corners of my soul.

-

I was pulled into your unrelenting current.

The water rushed into my lungs,

Crushing any hope of resistance,

And dragging me under where I once feared I would drown.

 -

But I let you past the iron gates.

I let you see under the surface,

Welcomed the water into my lungs,

And it was as though I had never breathed before then.

-

How could I not fall for you?

…

... 

It’s you.

I long for you—your touch, your smile, your love. I have seen your face so many times that I can picture it near-perfectly in my head. I’ve only met you in the dreams that my mind creates, and I often wish that I could live in them forever. I feel as though I have loved you, in another life. Some piece of me out there exists with you. That reality doesn’t feel so far from this one. It is bittersweet to know that this version of me can’t exist in that space, but that there is a version that does. You are just out of my reach.

I spend hours every day imagining scenarios so vivid that they feel like memories. I know how it feels to hold you and be held by you, how it feels to kiss you and to be kissed by you. My heart aches for the sounds of you that play in my head. When I try to grab onto you, my hand passes through as though you are a ghost—an echo of another world.

The line between this reality and the next is blurring. I feel pieces of this other reality bleeding into my own. I find your smirk strewn across my features. I’ve picked up your miniscule, yet distinctive, habits. I can feel your pain and your joy and your love. Sometimes it feels as if you are standing next to me, laughing at a joke that I’ve made. You whisper comforting words in my ear when I need them most. You smile at me from across the room. But, when I blink, you disappear.

I want to have a movie night with you and hold you when you jump at the scary parts of a movie. I want to spend the night staring up at the stars and telling each other things that no one else knows. I want to let you past the iron gates that separate me from everyone else. I want to be vulnerable with you. I want to grow with you and watch you grow into yourself. I want to feel myself falling for you. Maybe I already am. I wish I could tell you that. That I love you.

I am missing out on this beautiful life that is full of warmth and love. I have a home and a family with you. We have made a family where we didn’t have one before. I feel a kind of grief for this life that I can’t seem to remember. A life that is just out of reach. If only I could remember.

You.

.... 

I have posted this on AO3 as well, if you would like to check it out there.

TW: implied/mentioned eating disorder

...

My brain prefers that I take life one piece at a time,

One kernel of popcorn,

One bite of candy,

One potato chip.

-

 My brain is afraid that maybe I’ll take more than my fair share,

Too many carbs,

Too much sugar,

Too many calories.

-

I’m learning that it’s okay to take up space,

To eat when I’m hungry,

To eat until I’m full,

To take back the joy in good food.

-

I prefer to take life in handfuls,

Handfuls of popcorn,

Handfuls of candy,

Handfuls of potato chips.

-

Life tastes better when you are living it,

Not counting calories,

Not minimizing yourself,

Not listening to the voices in your head.

...