look at this poem

3

ESTONIAN MOVIE MONTH

    ↳ “Kertu” 2013 (Love is Blind)

“Kertu” is an Estonian drama. A quiet Kertu has been living under his father’s dictatorship all her life. She finally makes a small move to try to change something in her life: she writes a poem to Villu, who is a good looking man, but unfortunately a local drunkard. After midsummer night Kertu goes missing. Her family panics, because of her closeness she is thought to be simple-minded. Kertu is finally found from Villu’s home under his bed shaking and scared. He is accused of taking advantage of the young woman. But what actually happened that night? A slowly unfolding truth is much shocking than thought. 

Actors and actresses in the movie were Ursula Ratasepp (as Kertu), Mait Malmsten (as Villu), Leila Säälik (as Malle), Külliki Saldre (as Anu), Peeter Tammearu (as Jüri) and Piret Laurimaa (as Kaarin).

Do not look upon me.
You are so young, child.
I should have your eyes out for that.

You were not merely in my woods
You were on my earth
My world,

I lived here
before you were even thought of.
Before your species
was a twinkle
in the universe’s eye.

You are so insolent
to think that we cannot touch you
if you carry a light.

(We are the light.
and we are blinding.)

—  Go away, human child. (a.v.p)

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.

The worst kind of good bye is the kind that you don’t expect.

The worst is when you don’t even consider it an option, because four months ago he was telling you that you were the love of his life and now the word forever isn’t even uttered from his lips. Four months ago he was looking at you like you put the sun in the sky and now he looks at you like he cant wait for the sun to set and leave the skies over his head.

The worst kind of good bye is the kind that you dread. You feel it leaking into every crevice of your heart and you’ll try not to talk because you can hardly take a breath in, let alone beg him to stay while he’s stabbing wounds like “it’s over” and “I can’t do this anymore”. You’re holding in your tears and replacing them with anger and words with a lot more bark than bite like “fine, okay, leave, Jesus Christ I don’t even want you anymore”. And he’ll look at you all sad because you both know you’re lying but God fuck if he’s going to leave then just rip off the fucking band aid don’t wait around to see if the wound will heal.

The worst kind of good bye is the kind that echoes through your body months later because he left his fingerprints on parts of your body that you couldn’t expect like the back of your eyelids or the spaces between your fingertips. The worst kind of good bye is the kind that enters like a bullet but crawls it’s way out like blood from a cut. You feel it everywhere and you let it haunt you because you’d rather picture him saying “good bye” a million times than not be able to see him at all.

The worst kind of good bye is the kind that he left you, because no matter what you do you can’t seem to press the right buttons to rewind or close your eyes hard enough to shove the words back into his mouth and replace it with the love you could’ve sworn he once felt.

—  You could’ve sworn that good bye wasn’t even a line in your story, but suddenly it’s filled up every page you were supposed to leave for the future.
9

they’d call you icarus.
   but we all know it isn’t the sun you flew
                                                              too
                                                                  close
                                                                         to.

but you’ll burn with them, ani || S.P.

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.

idol:
your body is less temple and more mausoleum when you meet him. you are sleepy-eyed and on the verge of dancing into oncoming traffic. sometimes bad intentions are better than being alone. sometimes heaven and desperation are almost the same thing.

idyll:
in this dream, you don’t have to pretend he isn’t angry because he isn’t angry. here his arms are open and he is gentle gentle gentle. he touches you and it doesn’t feel like burning. 

ideal:
you want this, you do. this is what you tell your mother when she shakes her head and calls you crazy again. it’s the truth, almost: you want something, want someone, want to stop being a monster for a little bit. 

idle:
it hurts again when you open your eyes and remember how fiery and ungentle things really are. there is so much to change but you are too tired to change a thing and so it all goes back to fire and ash and smoke and smoke and smoke.

—  chronology // s.o.