Mar. 15th, 2017

kyleri: (Default)
The dream i had, i have to record at least some of it...

(TW: roundabout mention of suicide)

I was always me, always the same, aging slowly if at all, but time bent & swayed, it was always within the last hundred years but i lived through so many more years than that. ..

He was born & lived & died, & sometimes we found each other & sometimes we didn't, but we always knew, in the mon ent when eyes met eyes, we knew

I still remember the green of his eyes, so many times i saw him for the first time, again

Sometimes he was so young, barely adult to my apparent age (much less my actual age, whatever that was), but we didn't care

Sometimes he was so old, hair white or gone & the wrinkles of age but the eyes always the same, his eyes

(I remember his eyes)

Once it was so long, so long, & i slipped, i couldn't bear being alone, & i found someone else, someone whose eyes were brown...

When they laid the baby in my arms & i saw his eyes, i knew

(That was the time...i couldn't bear it...I'd thought i couldn't die; i was only wrong once)

(I was...when i came back...it was a very long time until i was anything that could be called 'well')

(If there is such a thing as a supervillain, & there is, there is, i was, i was)

(The irony, given who he was)

I remember the first time, when we were both young ,when we were both born, when he wrnt off to fight, as e so often did, with his team, his friends, his bow in his hands, he kissed me & went

& didn't, didn't come back

I sat & waited for word, but i knew

I knew

They sent the captain to tell me & i remember as he walked up to me, bootherls crunching in the gravel, & i looked up at him & he didn't have to say a word

This is thw part of the story where i might seek out strange magics & unholy things to bargain with, but i did not! I mourned,ni cried, i went on

I did not age

Time...did odd things

I looked into a stranger's eyes & saw his, & i knew

'It's the eyes,' i whisper into his hair as he shakes in my arms, not knowing what's happened to him or how he has recognized me, how he knows me, how a stranger can suddenly mean so much, mean everything to him

'It's always the eyes.'

old poem

Mar. 15th, 2017 06:30 pm
kyleri: (Default)
Something I wrote a while ago & posted elsewhere, figured I'd stick it here at least for archival purposes.



living in the cracks

cracks, crevices, spaces in between
art from trash
things others don’t want
‘but there is beauty here — ‘
beauty, yes, but
things are hard; do not romanticise this

it is hard, painful, ugly
i do not fit
i must bend + contort
myself small
to fit

i do not fit

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