disasterwrites

[disasterwrites]

The Rite of Migration

There is a bird, out the window, and it flies like it has somewhere to be —

A direction that was determined not by itself but something greater

It follows the thin white lines which stretch across this great sky that we do not name nor see

But that direct the views of men and ghosts to the edge of the world

This bird, out the window, has settled into its own skin the same way I have settled in

[anonymity]

And the tar upon its wings does not phase it

Thought the muscles which power it forth grow ever more sluggish

And stretch, rubber bands

Holding a automaton creature in frozen motion

The bird, through the glass, is yet one more exhibit in this great museum collection

Of capitulations and solivagant beings

Which shuffle forward, against the tide

Together pushing through the [nameless] faceless crowds of this world

Inside this bus, humans watch this creature as it

Creaks through the insubstantial air

And do not see their breaking bodies reflected in the glass

[disasterwrites]

A Letter to a Past Self

Dearest child,

Do you remember the wind on the beach? It swept through your salt tangled hair, and pushed the gritty sand into your eyelashes. I remember you laughing and diving through it all, turning into a seal the way you used to glide through the waves. Your endless enthusiasm turned the icy ocean into a haven. 

You used to love to run. Not for exercise, no, that was a trial. Instead you would sprint through bushes. You’d drag trails of debris behind, pick under ripe berries and pretend that you were a separate entity, somewhere away from it all. That the sharp tang of manzanita was a gourmet dessert and the tangy lemon of sorrel the most decadent of salads. You devoured the pages of every book you could get your hands on, bounded through the world with the naivety and excitement of a newborn fawn. 

It has been a long time since then. You have grown older. You have seen things no child has the right to see – the collapse of your dreams, the horrors of your own mind. You have seen the end of the world in the red of a midday sky. Now the green in the minds of leaders clouds their eyes, spills out their mouths in torrents of sticky black tar, like the kind you used to find on the beach during road trips and turn into strange little statues that melted as you patched them together with black-stained, gritty hands. Running, now, feels like a chore, and the ice of the ocean echoes the cold apprehension under your skin. Perhaps the world was not ready for you.

You still are here, my love, beneath the tangled vines of heartache that have cemented together over the years. The brightness of your smile is echoed in mine. It has forgotten the gleam yours had, but it tries its best. I try my best. 

I hope that wherever you have gone, you have found some joy.

[disasterwrites]

Alt text under the break :)

[Alt. Text.]

An image of a piece of paper sitting on a soft blanket. The paper has a poem on it reading:

Thrice a week — 11/30/24

Stop

Rewind

One-two-one-two

Tapping on the

Door/window/wall

Bouncing up-and-down

Breathe

In

Out

Calm

Safe

But safe ≠ calm

Safe is movement

The shudder of

Go/go/go

Run step run

No thought

Salty sweet rob

acid breaths panting

Infinite hatred

Infinite joy

// Go //

[disasterwrites]

Ophelia

I hope this email does not find you

I hope you are sitting

In a field

A cup of tea by your side

I hope the moss creeps around your shoes

And the mice that scurry are not afraid

Of your giant disposition

And instead burrow beneath your feet

I hope this email does not find you

I hope the sunlight cuts through the trees

Like soft blades

Scattering golden across your face

Softening the cut of your jaw

Smoothing your eyelids with the promise of warmth

I hope this email does not find you

I hope it drifts in the current

Gobis and koi pushing it as it wanders

Sinks beneath silt and the croak of green

Settles into the dark

I hope this email does not find you

I hope peace finds you instead

[disasterwrites]

Messy Solder

(New poetry :) as always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated)

Sometimes I think I forget that I’m a human Flesh and blood Electric impulses controlling fingers, Hitting a keyboard, Click Clack Click Clack Ones and zeros into a language only machines understand Spinning in an emotionless void It whirs and whirs and I I am just that Calculations and judgements Split second decisions as I shift myself, Blue screen loading into a new background New face New person with a new personality New ideas of a new life Shapeshifting between each conversation Calculating best means of friendship, Acquaintance, Affability when the fans are whirring too fast and Shutdown Overheating Please place in a cool area and wait for restart Blank face echoing a blank screen Blank

[disasterwrites]

Noah

Poetry is

Poetry is

Poetry is you

It is the rhythm in your breaths as you sit down

Panic attack, tachycardia, slowing slowing slowing as you

Relax

Soften into 

Leaf orange bright yellow mouse grey

Eyes full of oceans waiting to spill

The tea in your hands an anchor to which you cling

Rocking out of the ship that is your body

Drifting among the currents until the trawling lines catch you and drag you back down 

Down

Down

Back into a world that is

Diamond glass blue bright sharp

Migraine nose, crinkles as your face squinches

Compressing down into yourself

Regretting leaving the cool of the sea 

Dark soft blue green wool

Fortress tucked beneath a too-tall bed

Polar bear with matted fur wandering between

Sliding through the cracks in now/then

When? Who? You forget the

Soft black green spice crunch 

Of study sessions

Verb tenses, US court cases, “What was Marbury vs. Madison again?” 

It was

It was just a memory

Of a time when rights were more malleable

Less enforceable, fixable, safe,

No review 

But we have review

So you can pass your textbook over

Close your eyes

And become poetry once again

[disasterwrites]

Don't do it yet!!! Write down a bunch of notes and ideas and save it in a starred doc so you can come back to it later and spend all the time you want to on it :D

Guys I got the BEST IDEA for a Jegulus long fic and I really need someone to remind me that I can’t take that on right now because OMG the brainrot is brainrotting…

[disasterwrites]

Hi Interwebs!

New sideblog since I finally realized that I can actually post things I write (wild, right?)

Some introductions/things about me to know!

I write songs, poetry, and the occasional short fiction

Current student!

Pronouns are she/they

If anyone has asks abt English lit/rhetoric or just wants to say hello PLEASE don't hesitate, I'm always happy to chat (though I may not see your message for a while)

This is a blog primarily for posting my original works/weird philosophical shit or thoughts about writing - if you want my actual no-holds-barred fandom blog, that's @constellation-of-disasters

I don't do commissions rn (gods I feel pretentious writing this) but if people are interested I may! It's totally up to how many people express interest and my workload at any given time

General tags for organization will be #disaster's poetry #disaster's songs and #disaster rambles - the last one will overlap with my main blog (might have to change that, whoops)

That's it :) I'll update this over time if anything changes!