elwynian mumbles

It’s another day, another poem

the feet being dragged, one after the other

the cheeks never crimson nor wet

any longer

and the lips pursed tightly

to refrain from uttering

what the heart fears

but the mind knows

the petrification began

from the exterior;the tender skin

and dug deeper and deeper

until it reached the soul

that was, but no longer is

made up of the sweetest essence

of human nature

and a heart made of sapphire

a stiff statue of adamantine stone

with the insides decayed

a nurturing soul made of

sugary nectar, turned into the dirtiest

of sodden mire

oh how i pray

for the long and dainty eyelashes

guarding the windows of the soul

to wet

because the rusty creaking of my being

is already decomposing

oh how i long

to decay and decompose in the soft earth;

to become one with the ground

that you trot upon

that is the closest i will ever be to you

you do not have anything to say to me because you can’t empty the spaces i’ve already filled

(and refilled)

you can’t get a word in

but you like it that way.

and i know that because when i breathe and stare at the sky

you say my name,

want me to keep going

but there’s only so much water in my body,

there’s only so much of myself that i can pour into this.

when i speak, i am so full of love that i fucking hate myself

i stack my boundaries piece by piece with a patience i have to practice every morning

when i speak, i am so full of understanding that i get angry you can’t empty yourself of water the same way that i do

and in this way, i am an ache (but i do not bleed)

i am a bruise (fading quickly)

i am the sore spot you occasionally prod because i, the fool, keep asking you for the time

waiting for you

—