What if I told you the moon is dead?
That the glowing orb you see every night Is collapsing with each tremble in the sky When it darts out from behind the clouds, It’s not smiling, it’s grimacing What will you say? It’s an unfair question to ask on my part I’m not even sure what I would say And I see it crumbling every day Feel the powder chafe my skin Sense its every groan It hurts, you know, but I’m the crazy one So I’ll just nod and sway with the moon Let everyone else continue along Admiring its artificial warmth Shielded from the knowledge that The moon is dead
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My mother says she carries history’s weight
My darling Zoe, tucked under covers, Is crushed beneath that which came before When she coos, swooping with the wind, I hear that heaving of bygone years Strung within that bronze-black hair Tangled with that breath echoing from peach lips “Mother, I am months old and already ancient” And I laugh, my own breath rising until it Tumbles down as tears that fall on her cheeks More weight from above descending And that ageless question: How do I, Lilly, keep the pain from growing? Keep the pain from stabbing the ground, poisoning the roots, grasping the air And no answer falls upon my ears Instead, only a burdened silence remains Until it is broken by my daughter’s breathing We held each other through the waves of time
Two brothers: Noah and me As the tendrils of the sea grasped our bodies We hiccuped and sand fell out Littering the ground with love Thriving in the midst of chaos We decided then, That day in the ocean, No matter what, We had each other And It wasn’t fair It wasn’t right It shouldn’t be Just us But it was And We clutched each other’s hands As the abyss shrouded ourselves Until the sun rose over the waves I’m a door shut closed at the end of the hall
Not one shout can barrel its way through Trembling, but sturdy, I command my wall And deep within my fibers do my thoughts brew But there is one key that can unlock my thoughts It’s bright, glittering, and has a golden hue Once it slips through my guarded gate My door slides open and laughter ensues Summer glides on brown wings that
Soar toward amber oceans Open doors release giggles that Orbit through the moist air Numbers patter on the kitchen table while Noise chatters from the trees Yearnings are wiped away by Yawns of night time creeping in And here we are playing Again, my mother wins Sometimes
Quiet is just Sitting on the couch Besides my aunt After a day Of work While Gold dimples Splash purple skies Outside And Brown blankets Embrace our feet Within Melanie’s voice was the tide
Swooping in and around With little delight But never petering out Hallways sung of her strength Of her pride and pain That clung to her breath Pooling on tiled flames She spoke and people listened Ignored red cuts on tan skin The expressions written In the crevices of her limbs Her voice, was the sun The breeze beginning to bud While everything else sunk Too heavy and numb She couldn’t speak Couldn’t even peek At her own mystique The family she couldn’t seek “They’re Indonesian” Was the only information She ever was given for collection All the rest, seen as temptation So, Melanie’s voice wound with the wind And people celebrated her flair Neglecting what was dimmed Will anyone ever truly care? Nolan can transform
He can rub his hands Dazzle his black hair Unwind by the ocean Smile for everyone And he would be different But not himself… The thing is Nolan loves himself He loves many people in fact Friends Parents Siblings Teachers Classmates Neighbors Maybe not his siblings (But definitely his dog) But strings cut his deep brown wrists And wrench him apart A clock squats on his heart And his legs can only tread so far Water thrums at his feet on the verge of sweeping him away Nolan wants his friends, parents, teachers, the world to be happy But he forgets himself Nolan, you are not alone You do not have to transform You are Beautiful and the world is happy to have you in it It began smooth
Pebbles rolling under fresh sneakers Wind shuffling black hair Sun drifting behind clouds Eve barely noticed the blood-drops etched in her brown palms She… thought… the stars would soar But only sores sprouted on her skin Deep red bumps clinging to her body Blemishes hidden by sleeves Words concealed by her brain So she fell Into sewers No one knew that Eve Yamashita That quiet girl Whose mother died when she was six Had plummeted She still smiled, she still laughed, she still existed But she was tumbling down Eve’s father--Nick, née Vincent-- loved her Yet, she didn’t want him to worry So she cut her tongue She slid and slid and slid Jagged stones excavating flesh A tempest blustering above An intoxicating star burning What... she didn’t… realize was That Although she was plummeting And nothing was smooth, There were still planets she could reach, Stars she could climb, Warmth she could feel Because What she forgot Eve could still soar Jaylen knew how roots coalesced
How each tendril absorbed droplets That stung silt concealed with life She knew how each black strand of hair That draped her head crackled with fire Still gleaming with parables Jaylen listened, observed, wondered And the lessons would cascade in Rippling against her tan skin Only nineteen, yet she could hear Hear the Lao words her parents spoke Hear the wind’s whispers on sand Jaylen understood the beauty Of the minuscules, the stories She comprehended the stars That coruscated bronze at night She laughed with the birds at sunset Felt wet grass underneath feet Jaylen knew that everything had a narrative An inner essence that glimmered But not all had a student who listened |
AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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