#poetrypardy

If in every day is something gorgeous–

then pearl divers are we, looking for that blessing: 

summer fruits, winter coats on sale,

a friend with a story to tell

poetry's core is thus:

take heart in hope and crumbs,

dive–until diving is done

help me find those pearls, neighbor,

buried

in their own season mistaking brief fulfilment for hauling fingers: your tune

scatters pearls

like you hope to give me

your eyes someday

as beauty and sadness penetrate one another at takahashi shores: where i'm

the most lost human

on the warm

breathing train beside you and a young couple fixated on their device: before

that we are spread short

on the fire exit circle

within our smoke-words: as you name every single panorama after all that

we breathed into each

other eons ago when stars

had ears that questioned everything above them and you were there

before the primordial: before i felt every single murmur with

But i don't know how to restart

I wanted to delete the unpleasant part

But i can't find the link to lead me back

So I decide to move on the next chapter

A house burns, and in its 

place nestles a pond and fowl. 

The pond is drained, and 

surrenders to an orphanage. 

Does tilling and sowing 

not yield a harvest?

And if not the crops, 

does it not build a stronger back, 

and hardy hands?

No, no work is without 

purpose, or result. 

There's time, 

I'll be fine. 

The life I want

When do they let you grow up?

How many unblown candles turning

to wax does it take?

When do they stop telling

you to change the way you are?

or hiding your the clothes

they hate to see you wear?

when does it stop

the glares of a father

every time you step

out of the house?

when do the whispers stop?

when do the sirens stop blaring?

when does a mother

stop trying

to turn her

daughter into herself?

how many girlhoods

does it cost?

How many wasted barbie dolls

and how many

wasted make up kits

does it take for a mother

to realise that her

daughter hates her?

when do they laughing at you for

loving something they don’t?

when do they stop killing

the girl who loves pink?

how many teenage

dreams need to shatter

for a girl to finally be good enough?

how many girls need to die

to make a good daughter?

when does it stop,

the house not feeling like a home?

when does it end

the urge to run away from it all?

when does it stop

trying to be the daughter who will

never be good enough

the sister too small to fill up

the hand me down shoes?

when does she stop feeling

like she’s standing naked

in front of

a crowd that hates her every

time she wants to speak what’s

on her mind?

when will the world stop

putting her on a pedestal

to make the world out of her reach?

when will the silence end?

when will she grow up?

why won’t you let her grow up?

why won’t you stop holding her back

because you refuse to let go of what was?

where is the girl gone?

what did you do of the woman she was supposed to be?

where has she gone?

what did you do to her?

will she ever come back?

where is her grave?