dohateme

[dohateme]

Letters to Susan

“I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still.” ― Emily Dickinson

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"my child is fine"

their childs favorite fictional character:

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he is so me

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Cecilia Bustamante, from a poem featured in Woman who has sprouted Wings; poems by contemporary Latin American Women Poets

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Alice Notley

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Victoria Chang, "The Islands, 1961", With My Back to the World

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mirage flesh.

i have long feard that i am no more than a shimmer—light catching the slick skin of water—diseappearing the moment no one watches, that without eyes to hold me, i would dissolve; thin as breath on cold glass. a man is a myth without witness, ghost clinging to mirrors, begging for shape. the world builds its truths from touch, from sight, from names spoken aloud with intent. and still—i ask, does a mirror cease when the room ks empty? or does it keep, quietly, the residue of every face it ever held?

there was a time i believed i mattered by virtue of breathing, that to be was enough, but the world isn’t made of kindness—it is carved by percpection, apainting buried in the attic is rot and color and forgotten ache. a book unopened is nothing but pressed pulp and wasted ink. fhe beauty means nothing without eyes to ache for it, so i ask you: if i am loved, does that not imply i am worthy of it? if he sees me—sees me truly, without flinching—does that not sculpt me into something real? i have spent years murmuring my bame into silence, hoping to echo loud enough to convince myself i exist, but self-witness is a trick of candlelight, it flickers, it lies, it cannot hold.

the he brushes my wrist, suddenly my blood obeys. he says my name "doha.." like it’s always belonged in his mouth, and i became solid, i have weight, i cast shadows. alone, i was mirage, with him, i am matter, and i think—i know—no one is even real alone.

we are all waiting to be looked at and named.

[dohateme]

[dohateme]

inkless gospel.

there is no scripture grand enough to sancitify the curve of a smile that tilts just left of center, nor any apocalypse loud enough to rival the storm housed in the furrow of your brow, but if there were a theology for such things, i believe it would be written in the dust of your fingerprints on ceramic rims, on doorknobs still humming with your absence. a gospel penned not in ink, but in the quiet architecture of precence: you standing in a room, and the room inhaling like it’s just remembered what lungs are for.

perhaps this is what the old prophets feared when they whispered of gods walking unnoticed among us, not vengetful dieties cloaked in thunder, but gentle cataclysms who hold dominion whith a glance. the way your voice carries the hush of first light over a sleepiny hillside. the sovereign grace in how your hands mend without meaning to, like stitches in a tapestry that’s unraveling.

and i, i am no saint, no scripture-bearer, no altar-builder, i am merely the stunned witness to the holy disarray that is your being. you are a riot of meaning in a senseless world, a chaos so elegantly formed it masquerades as order. when your faze fall on me i feel named, chosed, as though gravity, for once, pulls me inward instead of down.

what else is divinity if not this? to breathe in such a way that the air must rearrange itself to accommodate you. to exist so luminously that even silence finds its voice.

you stand there, unknowing. and i think: this is the beginning, the creation of light, but its first recognition.

[dohateme]

psalm of the unbecoming.

this body

not a mistake

but a prayer grabled in transit,

dripping from the mouth of some deaf god

like spit from a cracked chalice.

they gave me love

drawn in chalk outlines

blue veins for boys,

pink pulses for girls,

and nothing for us

no hue for the bloom that claws sideways

from a seed they forgot to bless.

they handed me a name

cold as an autopsy tag,

tongue-splintering,

bitter as old communion wine.

a body stitched too tight at the seams

corset-skin, cage-ribbed?

meant to hush and hush and hush.

but i was never delicate.

i have torn lace with my teeth.

i trip on pronouns,

choke on commandments,

and carry a god’s silence

like a coffin strapped to my back.

so i built my own alfar

from bruised knuckles

and cracked mirrors.

i prayed in the key of defiances,

sang psalms between my ribs

where breath flutteres like a dying bird

but the heart beats like a war drum.

i scratched my name into the sky

with fingernails chipped on stained glass,

taught the stars to spell it

in the language of scars.

they call me unnatural

as if the moon does not split herself

into jagged phases.

as if the vines do no strangle statues

to taste the sun

i’ve watched the ocean kiss the land

then retreat like a guilty lover

always returning

never ashamed.

they said my love

was too wilde to be sacred

so i lit the incense of her sighs,

worshipped at the altar

of honeyed mouths

and hands that knew the scripture

of my skin.

if slavation means shrinking,

means flinching into shapes

that fit their architecture of heaven

then damn me.

let me burn in the blaze

of my own unbecoming.

let me waltz barefoot

on brimstone and bone,

eaxh step a hersery,

each gasp a gospel.

this body

never a mistake

only a prayer

misheard.

and i will spend my life

turning the stars into syllables,

until the universe

learns how to say

my name.

[dohateme]

unholy, beloved.

father was the first god i learned to fear, not the thunder, but the silence between the footsteps.

he built heaven from rules, and locked the gates behind him.

we bowed our heads at dinner, but i watched him carve holiness from hunger, call obedience love, and place shame like a crown on my head.

i wanted to love women, but fathers write the scriptures.

fathers say this is a sin with breath that reeks of wine and absolution.

fathers say i love you like a loaded gun with the safety off.

so i kiss her anyway.

soft, like her mouth was the chalice.

holy, like her touch could baptize my rage.

we lay beneath his crucifix and make a new religion from our bodies, no hell, no guilt, just breath, bloom and blood.

blasphemy? maybe, but i never prayed harder than when she whispered my name like it was hers to worship.

this piece has been marinating for months in my drafts, then edited it, then abandoned it, then completely forgot about it, but oh well.. decided to post it since it’s our month awooo !! happy pride everyone, love youuu <33

[dohateme]

the purity of an angel's light,

like starlight on a dark and silent night,

shines bright and true,

a beacon of hope and goodness in this world.

angels, with their beautiful wings of white,

sublime and graceful,

bring a heavenly glow to all they touch,

radiating pure joy and love.

the ethereal radiance of an angel's light, like the glint of moonlight upon a serene and moonless evening sky, enwraps this world with an airy ray of serenity, gracefulness, and poise. angels, possessing sublime and elegant wings of pure white, emboldened with dazzling splendor, exude. the essence of radiant beauty and tranquility, enveloping all with a gentle, comforting warmth.

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a journey of love.

love is a symphony of hearts

two souls dancing in rhythm, forever intertwined

like a breath of fresh air, your affection warms my soul

a gentle kiss that sparks flames within

a sweet whisper of encouragement, my eyes always on you

your gaze, a reflection of heaven itself

my love is a deep ocean, an unfathomable bond

so take my hand and come along for this journey of love.

[dohateme]

i have NOTHING TO SAY, STRAIGHT UP SPEECHLESS

Imagine being enveloped by my arms, feeling secure and at ease in my presence. In this calm environment, where the gentle roar of the ocean provides a soothing soundtrack and the limited light casts a soft, intimate ambience, the only thing I could desire is you. Envision us dancing on the beach, the soft sand beneath our feet, your delicate laughs echoing across the empty beach while my tight, possessive grip on you holds you close to me, as if I never want to let you go. I gaze at you in awe, taking a deep breath to calm my emotions. You are beyond beautiful, almost angelic in your grace. My hand gently rests on your hip, feeling the flow of your hips moving in rhythm with the music. My face is lit up with a huge smile, and I feel the ache in my cheeks from the strength of my joy. All I wish is for you to comprehend the profound effect you have on me.

[dohateme]

😞💔😞💔😞💔😞💔😞💔😞💔

Yes, I am mindful of what I have shared with you in the past. That one night, you lovingly ran your fingers through my hair. In response, I replied gently, saying, "I am willing to lay bare my affection for you, even if it costs me my heart." Upon your query about the depths of my love for you, my soul ached for your reciprocation and devotion. I sought after your love in every conceivable manner. I longed to be immersed in you entirely, wholly and completely. Yes, I remember the times when I would eagerly wait for you, my heart filled with the anticipation of your return. There I would be, like a loyal pup, patiently anticipating your arrival, regardless of how late it was. And now, I find myself completely at your mercy, consumed by your influence. The piercing pain as the blade plunged deep into my chest only fueled the uncontrollable tears that streamed down my face as I desperately tried to grip your hand. The pain was overpowering and the anguish etched on my face was clear. With trembling hands, I reached out and grabbed your wrist, my feeble attempts to push you away in vein. My speech was slurred and barely legible through the wracking sobs that escaped my trembling lips. The words continued to escape my mouth in a garbled mess, “stop.” I was overcome with weakness and powerlessness. It hurt so much. My head was racing, and I could feel the environment surrounding me fading away. I felt the picture on the stand next to our TV, with my arms around your neck, my cheek against yours, and a big smile on my face, vanishing. My copious blood had turned the once-clean white sheets a sickly red. I was experiencing severe pain, feeling unwell, and realized that I was gradually losing my life. I gave myself over to you because I had nothing left to save myself. Although I should have been more cautious in my wording, I am unable to take it back now that my life was in your hands. I would be happy to let you abuse me repeatedly, even if it means that this proves how much I love you. My heart slowed, and I relaxed my hold on your wrist as my vision became blurry. The next thing I knew, my heart had stopped beating and was in your hold. Not thumping the way it used to whenever I saw you. My blood was drained onto the bedsheets... A corpse was lying on our bed, your clothes were soaked, and there was an overwhelming smell in the room. Dear, if this is the only way I can show you how much I love you. Thus, let this be the last one.

[dohateme]

#this #is #how #you #write

As the sun continues its gradual ascension, the light becomes increasingly intense, transforming the ocean into an awe-inspiring spectacle. The water shimmers with a silvery gleam, reflecting the soft hues of the sunrise in a thousand mirrored images. The sky above the water transitions from a deep indigo hue to a pale, delicate blue, the lingering stars slowly fading in the growing brightness. With the spread of light, the ocean awakens, its once dark depths now a living canvas of soft oranges, pinks, and golds, as the colors dance and merge together in an unforgettable display of nature's grand beauty. The sun now reigns high in the sky, enveloping the ocean in warm, golden light that bathes the vast sea in a beautiful, luminous glow. The expansive horizon stretches out as far as the eye can see, evoking a profound sense of awe and grandeur. The gentle roar of the waves crashing against the shore serves as a calming and soothing soundtrack to the enchanting scene. The shore itself is a place of striking contrasts, with the soft, silvery sand and the colorful seashells scattered along the beach complementing the deep, blues hues of the ocean, creating a breathtaking tableau of natural beauty.