You would think by now I know
That the soil that builds me up Can only hold so much water Yet, I, Hinrik, still cling to that falsehood Clutch onto it, drowning it with me in the dirt So I sink ever lower and the sun, Abandons me as well But still my roots anchor Fastening to the crumbs below And fragile, patient, sturdy, I prepare to bloom
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I would say I wanted more time
To finish that assignment That one dragging my heart And tackling my mind The one binding me to this chair Where I sit and cry And it wouldn’t be a fib Yet, there is something else Peeking out behind the door Warm, comforting, encouraging A friend with a smile, reminding me That I’m not alone And we still have time 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? Sam knows what it’s like to breathe
Sticky air clinging to wings They know what it means to not They’ve catched pain splattered on hearts They have cried in moist green fields They’ve bitten the apricots Tasted the bittersweetness Time has taught Sam how to breathe Their friend, breathless at fifteen Taken by a swollen lake That drains those who crave to fly Still, Sam spreads their red-black wings Lets the sun dazzle their spots Swoops toward the eve Ladybug 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 |
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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