for the tarnished hearts

𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

happy national poetry day!! sending my love to all the poets out there <3

this one isn't my best, but i wanted to post something for poetry day haha :)

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an ode to softness

and to holding yourself together

with the gentlest of hands,

letting yourself shatter

into a jewel-toned mosaic

of mortality

when the loose stitches

down your side

hopelessly unravel,

and ichor doesn't spill out

in sweet, golden waterfalls.

instead, the copper red

stains your hands

as you try to stop the flow

of screeching frustration,

quaking sadness,

and the mind-warping rush

of anxiety

that tinges every moment

with unease

and heart-of-the-fire red, the color of

urgency,

as if every second

is embedded with knives

dipped in the poison of 

unpredictable, sprawling future.

as the deep red of sunset, of endings,

soaks into my palms,

i realize

i am not invincible

or godlike

when it comes to hurt.

i am flesh and bone and spools of nerves.

i only know how to feel.

how to push on the violet bruises

before they fade into my skin

like invisible ink into parchment,

before only i will be left

with its existence

engraved in my mind.

an ode to softness,

to the hurt that heals over

when you open up

to close the wound,

letting the locks and the walls

burn in the fires

set within yourself,

these small candles

little flickers of hope

that melt the icy chill

gathering in the hollow spaces

left behind

by the ones who stretched them full

with an unfolding, expanding love

before taking it back

like a mistake.

some candles were lit by those

who were first drawn to

the soft glow

that belongs only to you,

the kind

storms can't extinguish.

storms would have to

be gentle, curious,

reaching with churning-cloud hands

into the depths of your eyes

to find that small flame

—that brings alive intensity

to the slight blooms of color painted

onto your bottomless irises—

and snuff it out.

the softness there

curls into your short flash

of a smile,

wraps around the eyes

of another.

silver threads of connection

thrown out in all directions,

waiting to feel a tug on one end.

softness—

it lets in the world

and all you have left

to love

in this evolving mess of a universe

we've caught

in the middle of metamorphosis.

love,

mari