poetry

guess who

I hate to think you gave me life. That your red light stoicism was the sun of my world. I saw my soul the clearest when you’d blow the cotton-white clouds away with sin.

To destroy was to adventure

You lured me into the big storm with your small talk and next thing I know, I was crying myself to sleep. I’d stare hard into the mirror the next morning, musket mouth at the ready to fire whatever lies I could to be able to live with myself.

I tasted fresh tears for the first time; more sulfur than salt.

Tell-tale pixels spreading across the dead space between my thighs. Fresh bruises, like lavender and rotted roses, painted over the old ones; Bolder, Brighter, painful. Brilliant.

You got through to me. You filled in the whites of my eyes, the grooves in my lips, and the gaps between my fingertips. You were Master of mindless thrill.

The pleasure was inane.

But you have no right to any of the blame. You knew my grip fastened around your throat only so I could see myself reflected, free of impurities, in your mud-ocean eyes. You felt it, from the first line that slipped through my teeth. My impulses were ravenous, screwed mercilessly into my judgement.

I was broken from the beginning, all you did was play with the pieces.

PC: Roberto Ferri

 

11 thoughts on “guess who”

  1. Amazing, I’ve only read two of your works but I hope to see more! I notice you’re writing in first POV (which is super difficult for me to do!1!). I hope that reading your writing will grant me the courage to write in that perspective one day.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Actually i wanted to ask about the themes in your writing.. melancholy. How do you start writing about something profoundly sad? When you finish writing have you ever felt that there’s more of my feelings i could not translate into words

      Liked by 1 person

  2. That’s a great question, I always write what I feel. When I write it means that I feel too much and the only way I can get past it is to let go of it through writing. But, writing about melancholy can be painful. Sometimes it forces me to confront parts of myself that I don’t want to accept, ugly parts that don’t seem right. I have poor judgement and sometimes I feel like a walking liability, but I’ve always been honest with myself. That honesty has been my backbone. If I write something where I’m brutally honest with myself I can start healing.
    I don’t stop writing until I’ve gotten everything out. Writing has always meant clarity for me, it’s almost like a lifeline. Somehow, at least so far, I’ve always found a way to translate all my feelings into words.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I totally get what you’re saying, sometimes it’s just about experimenting with different forms. Some of the things I write don’t make total sense to me right away. The creative process is a hassle haha

    Liked by 1 person

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