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My first love was a boy with a wide open chest,
his ribcage flowering
                             into a cavity
                                    below his too big mouth.

I used to worry he’d swallow himself
or me, or both of us 
whole,
          and the whole world too- 
          pulsing  and alive and
                                                       too big for his hands. 

He always wanted to hold everything.
I always dreamt of things spilling from his body. 


Running into him unexpectedly was like coming home unannounced 
and not recognising the rooms. And 
                 no longer wanting to live there. 


I no longer dream of his bones crushed from within 
by the weight of everything he tries to hold
and somewhere, 
in the spaces since I stopped dreaming of him, 
                                     he has begun to hold less 
                                                  inside of his chest.

—  20 snapshots of my twenties: #5
Here I Go

I tell you so often that I love you
Wanting to whisper it to you every morning
But you are so far away so
Here I go

I scream my lungs out and try to get to you
Across the ocean that keeps us apart
Like a beacon I’d never stop cos’ you are
My only one.

Every time I see you, you start a fire in me
Nothing else can set my heart alight
And one thing that won’t happen is that
I let go

There’s just no one that gets me like you do
You’ve saved me from a fate worse than death
I’m yours forever and you are my only
My only one.

— Frederik Frøsig

Long Distance

If hands
could reach
right through
this screen

I’d rest
your head
upon
my knees

I’d stroke
your hair
‘til you
believe

That we’ll
conquer
our hopes
and dreams

This year
like those
now too
shall pass

And though
at times
it won’t
be fast

We’ll close
the distance
with
our words

Which now
the world
will all
have heard

And…

If hands
that write
could bring
you close

I’d write
enough
to bear
us both

I’d write
until my
fingers
bleed

You must
believe
you’re all
I need

// A.S
i found strength
in handing out kindness;
even to those who may not
have deserved it.
—  poeticallyordinary
I wonder if anyone really thinks about me. The kind of thinking where your thoughts wrecking ball their way through the usual barriers, you’re not really aware of why you’re thinking of that person, or maybe you are, but you don’t have time to care because before you know it they’ve already filled your head. Maybe I’ve crossed someone’s mind. Maybe they reread our texts in hopes of resurrecting our past, just for a moment. Maybe they smelled something like my cologne and couldn’t stop themselves from remembering me the whole day. Could I ever take up that much time and space?
—  Do you ever think about me, like I think about you? // Maxwell Diawuoh, Once A Day (360/366)
moon: it is a tragedy, yes? that you have all the light in the galaxy to offer, while i may only reflect yours?
/
sun: but dear moon, i am lonely, i am poison to the touch. too often the ones i love come away with burns. if you dream, dream to be the stars, for mortals send up their dearest wishes and secrets to the stars.
/
stars: envy us not, we are but pinholes against the canvas of the sky. envy the moon, the center of the masterpiece, the sovereign of the wolves and the tides and the night.
—  “celestial dialogue”, paperharbors
I’m just trying, you know? Day by day, second by second, I’m trying to keep myself together.
—  🖤
i catch your eye
and smile once more.
 
i think i see you smile back,
just for a moment.
  
this must be
what happiness feels like.
—  poeticallyordinary, this must be what happiness feels like.
How strong you are, to go through Hell on Earth, and still smile and carry yourself like you’re in Heaven.
—  Your struggle will pay off someday. It might not be now, but it will get better. // Maxwell Diawuoh

I’ve never quite felt so much dread
As when our final words were said
The quiet car ride in the dark
Fearing what would be a brand new start

I know that you must move away
When daylight strikes and ends your stay
But shaking hands and streaks of tears
I can’t hold back when you’re not near

You walk me back to my front door
Long distance, we’ve been here before
Behaving like a flickering circuit
Temperamental light; when it’s on, it’s worth it

You are my light
And sometimes that scares you
How you’re on my mind
Until we pull through

But I’ll wait for you from coast to coast
You’ll send me chocolates in the post
That I’ll unwrap when I miss you most
As I kiss the soft temple of your ghost

—  We must goodbye again; it never hurts any less. I’m trying to stop the tears, I’ll embrace the pain through writing for you. // A.S
Love me like love is more than just a word. Make it action, make it choice, make it commitment. Don’t try to be perfect. Don’t try to love me perfectly because you are not perfect and neither am I, some days we will crash and burn but it’s whether or not we escape from the wreckage that matters. So when we have those arguments that make peace seem like a distant memory, take the time you need to cool off but make sure you come back.
Motivate me. I’ve always been quite the dreamer, but some days the world gets the best of me. My body keeps moving but everything else feels dead, and everything including you feels further away than it should be. When that happens, pull me close. Tell me that you’re here, tell me that there’s more to live for, call it soul to soul resuscitation. Bring me back to you.
Don’t give up on understanding me. I know that on most days my mind is more like a really messy bedroom and finding sense in all of the chaos may prove to be difficult but please, don’t stop trying. Keep talking, keep asking questions, refuse to get tired. See, I know a lot of words. I know temporary. I know brief, short-lived, fleeting. I don’t quite get the word stay. It tastes weird on my tongue, probably because I’m more used to people doing the opposite. I guess that’s why I’m always prepared to write goodbye poems, and why I’ll be expecting you to leave once you see the person behind all of this poetry. Please, don’t go. Prove me wrong. Stay.
—  How I desire to be loved. // Maxwell Diawuoh, Once A Day (362/366)

They said be small.
Be delicate and frail,
With fingers like needles and
Arms like twine.
Be cute as a button, but
Old enough
To spread your legs.
Keep your curves,
Be soft to the touch,
Yet firm to watch.
Be confident
Yet meek,
Remain quiet,
But speak,
And remember-
we won’t listen
To your voice.

Shrink your body, they said.
Quiet your voice, they said.
Be soft, be hard,
Be blonde, be dark,
Be anything but yourself, they said.
Okay, I said.
Okay, I said.
Okay. I said okay.

But now,
I’m saying I won’t be small.
I won’t be quiet,
I won’t sit idle in the dark.
My past may be small, but
My future is large,
And I promise you-
I will take up space.

Stay small, they said.

No, I say.

—  KK 11.10.16