hi my beautiful angels.
I'm trying something a tad bit different
poem is in italics
also- very angsty/sad. I'm not sure of all the triggers honestly
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I am both bloody knuckles and warm palms
"I had to be tough for her. I had no choice. she was my rock and without her, nothing. hollowness and empty. I came home with busted knuckles nine out of ten times. she'd often have to wrap them because my hands were so shaky, but she had a remedy for that too; pressing her soft lips to my palms and humming softly...
I am the sinking flower, a faded petal,
and the worn down row of roses in the abandoned yard.
"she told me I was stunning and soft and everything good in this world.. yet I knew deep down something had cracked all along and she just never saw it.. she never had to see me for the monster I was.. I was her rose in a garden of twigs...
I am both The Gutter and the skylight
the humming of birds and the humming of rusted engines
"I spent most weekends working on dads old car and she would spend it.. just lying there in the grass, looking up at the sky; her hair all sprawled out and a smile never leaving her lips.. she was heaven at its finest...
there was beauty in my dirty bloody knuckles
"when I'd need a break from the cars, I'd join her in the grass. she'd glare at my hands; a 'tsk' coming from her soft lips. she hated how beat up I'd get but she still loved holding my hands. I couldn't get through the day without her begging at least ten times for me to hold her hand. I'd get caught up in work I suppose. but I'd take a break. she'd sit in my lap or on my desk if I was doing paperwork and we'd just talk and talk. sometimes about dinner plans, sometimes about this rose that's in our garden. it was mostly her garden...
and there is Beauty in the warm caress of my palm on your cheek
"she loved affection the most. I think that's why it took my so long to ask her out. most of you know me; I'm not huggable, cuddly, or even loving for the most part. but by gods was she. the second time we saw each other, hug almost immediately. she was like that though. that's how you knew she was happy. her not wanting affection, that was scary. she got so mad once she punched a dent in our wall. I don't remember what caused it, I just know the look she gave me afterwards broke me. she looked terrified, even though she'd done it. I bandaged her knuckles that night...
do not search for the ugly
it has already found you
"she'd refure to it as 'the ugly' and I would refure to it as 'it'. if you don't what it or 'the ugly' is- it was death. some days she got morbid and would talk about 'the ugly'. 'it's coming for all of us. some quicker than others. we don't know exactly when, we just know.' I told her that's morbid and she said 'yeah. it's not like me; I know. I just.. I don't know anymore.' we talked for awhile then she said it. 'but we're completely different.' most days I'd be upset, but she just.. didn't seem right...
but it may leave you alone if you draw no attention towards it.
"getting that call from the hospital, that woman's voice is still pounding in my ears. the conformation that I was y/c/n's partner, then telling me there was an accident.. then telling me she wasn't alive anymore.. I broke. my rose was gone. my rock, my baby, my best friend for years upon years of cherishing her and board line worshipping her like the goddess she is- was..."
hi. happy 2020. hope you had a good celebration. I spent it winning monopoly by a whopping two grand. I love you all, and thank you for reading my book. to many more gay chapters..