inkycapnip

Poetry

Watering plants

Would you water your plants more often if you could see their pots shedding tears of relief?

Poetry

Call Me by Your Name

There’s something in a name. Identity boiled down to it’s essence. The name you chose for me seemed to spill out, Never a question. Certainty, The death of curiosity. There was joy in your voice, Elation at the choice, But when I looked into your eyes, Peeking, painfully

Poetry

What if

What if there’s nothing wrong with being a bit of a bitch? Who demands the wounded to sew up their own stitch? What if the real problem lies not within but without? The failing lies not in feeling, but having none to talk about pain. Bottled up it causes

Poetry

The Banging

I can feel all the things that used to paralyze me banging at my door. I am not answering. My back bows and threatens to break under the weight of their ceaseless—relentless—banging. Their voices are garbled, like ripped throats gesticulating sound pushed from lungs wrapped in barbed wire.

Poetry

Innocuous

She wears a necklace with a sparkly red heart He chooses a fitting silver knife Both chains made of steel Truth in the spark He stabs his necklace Straight through her art

Poetry

High Elf

My grandmother is an elf. Beautiful books collect dust on the shelf. Her lessons echo from deep down the well, yet kindness can no longer ring her bell. My grandmother acts out in pointless cruelty. Comes across to others a fiend begging release, but broken down inside, she’s really

Poetry

Quiet

There is something to the silence. I shut my eyes Close my ears Detach from my skin Inside there is fear. Beyond Void lack of noise Perception is destroyed. What is safety without risk? The point where we exist, Polarized dichotomies, Endless philosophies, Excess of western ideologies. Balance lies to

Poetry

Silence

No buzzing No eyes No daggers No lies Cold sheets Warm blankets Birds caw Heavy eyelids Heartbeat slows Feelings wane Gentle glow Demons tame I can see why the ordinary never break out What could be wrong when you don’t hear a sound? I don’t know what to

Poetry

Impacto

No me dejarías volver a la guerra un viejo mundo gira sálvame la vida manten me en tu mira The only closed circuit is my life. There’s no permanent damage in touching the knife. Death is coming to have and to hold me. Everything else is impermanent. I’m

Poetry

Dear little me

I’m sorry I didn’t listen I’m sorry I didn’t come clean I’m sorry I didn’t fall apart I’m sorry I let you go unseen

Poetry

I object

I categorically reject the notion that the people you love are allowed to routinely make your life harder.

Poetry

12 hours

Healing process go away I don’t wanna feel sad today. You have had 12 hours to say whatever you need so fuck off, ey?