ses kandeloj

Legend said that she was risen from the dead
And that there was a casket somewhere she should have been haunting
But no matter how many times she was removed from reality
Leaving a stain on the sheets in the shape of her heart
Almira kept coming back, waiting for more

Isabel knew that she shouldn’t have lit those six candles
Sitting in the dark in her room, praying fervently for love from anywhere
Child, did nobody tell you that falling for a demon would get you nowhere
Or were you absent that day in school?

Isabel once found someone she thought she loved
In elementary school, falling for the boy with the shaggy boy and the disdain for rules
But nobody informed her that you can lead a heart to the lake of love
But you can’t force it to drink

On the nights when Almira left Isabel cold
Waiting until three am for a caress that would never arrive
She thought that the emptiness was what she wanted
But she was still afraid that she’d come across as uncaring

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kampoj de floroj

Almira looked at her lover
Like she was seeing fireflies for the first time
A fire in her eyes and a spark in her palm
Dancing across her face and settling in her eyelashes

The field was empty save for the two girls
And Isabel waited for a response
But the girl laying at her feet wouldn’t respond
Lost in a sky of a future unfolding

Her silk skirt was crumpled in the grass
Surrounded by small yellow flowers
Holding drops of dew in their eyes
Tears waiting to be shed
For the wedding that would take place then years later
Would be just as full of emotion

Isabel feared that heartbreak was impending
For Almira was a ghost some days
Gone in the night, little blood droplets everywhere

laca / dormema

there’s a bear on my chest
growling at me at all hours of the day
maybe it wants to run free
maybe it needs sleep

there are two kinds of tired
sleepy, like the soft evening sunset
awaiting a refreshing slumber
maybe spent cuddled up with a friend
maybe alone

tired, like an unelegant thunderstorm
with none of the grace as it streaks across the sky
and all of the terrifying blinding strikes
a time bomb in the sky
please don’t touch me, I just might explode
and shatter into a million pieces

sometimes I’d like to be sleepy
for it’s got all of the romantization
two lovers waiting out the deadly three am
but instead I’m a tired piece of sandpaper
abrasive as hell
and irritating to brush against

lekanto

don’t say that you miss me
with her spit still on your tongue
pervading through everything
like poison from the finest black markets

so I’ll just sit here alone
on the floor of the swimming pool
wondering, watching, waiting
for memories to roll off my skin
in waves and little underwater whirlpools

maybe this little daisy
sitting in my windowsill
will grow faster towards the fire in the sky
with the tears that I’ve saved for now
and the fire still burning in my eyes

last night, I finally knew what to say
but you weren’t there to hear it
so I’ll recite it to my daisy
and maybe it’ll understand

tri en la mateno, parto du

I’ve been a magnet for the unknown
ever since I was a little kid
pondering what lays beyond the fields
behind the great divide

your image of me will probably never
meet your growing expectations
so stop waiting with a watering can
drowning me with water and unnecessary nutrients
and let me grow by myself

maybe we’re from the same star
formed in a supernova millions of years ago
but does it really matter if you force yourself upon me
that was then; this is now

and you’re certainly an unknown
but not all the mysteries need to be solved
books sitting dusty on a bookcase
opened once in a thousand years

tri en la mateno, parto unu

I have seen hell with my own two eyes
and it looks like reflections of the same demon
with eyes of people I once knew, loved, and lost
to the cold embrace of death

are you mine?
come find me at the edge of the world
with a knife in your hand
and a razor in your heart

she visits me sometimes in my dreams
laying in my bed beside me
never with a word of her own to utter
but with words begging to drip from her lips

this is where it will start
but this is not where it will end
for I will choose my own fate
lying here in wait

ruĝa rubando

in lots of old legends between lovers
and crappy fanfictions written by desperate teenagers
there is a red ribbon tied on someone’s finger
reaching out into the horizon

a rouge highway of sorts
for longing, for lust, for love
tied to a stranger, an estranged lover
a person trying desperately to forget

there is a scratch on my shoulder
from a night about a year ago
spent in the forest with a ghost
with a smirk on his face
and strawberries on his lips to taste

maybe my red ribbon is frayed
maybe it’s worn out
maybe someone cut it a long time ago