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the great antagonist of my life pulls the sheets from my pale legs, exposing the notebook full of secrets left under the covers.

the crimson pages flip on their own, as if possessed by horned demons, high on boiled blood and drunk on misery. the words written in ink the color of squid.

i’ve been trying to keep you a secret. i keep our memories locked away in a safe tucked behind my ears, so no one will ever find you.

sometimes i let myself go. i look at everything that’s happened, illuminate my face with a night light in a feeble attempt to fend away my inner darkness.

throughout the night i live in my head, wading through thoughts that make even soldiers shudder, so quickly i lose myself. the only thing that seems to save me

is daylight.

- A.A/fermented-poet

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but what if i’m wasting it. like all the good opportunities i get. i always look back and realize “oh i should have done that” but the minute another option comes my way i’m always too stressed too tired too busy. i feel too much in the moment and when i look back i always wonder. what if i had? why didn’t i? what if this could have been perfect for me? the answer’s always the same: but you didn’t, because you’re nothing.

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i watch it play out on my facebook feed. a cutesy video plays about a wife and a husband texting each other. she bothers him with messages, he almost types “fuck off bitch” but says something nice instead. in this video, the wife is at fault. he doesn’t listen to her, he doesn’t come home, he ignores her messages. she’s a crazy bitch for getting mad at him. 

my teacher asked us why marriage rates are going down. what do i know. i see instagram posts where a girl makes a joke about chloroforming a boy and i don’t find it funny. i see plenty of people who are perfectly happy and i see just as many who are broken, deeply. i see boys all the time unable to meet their girlfriend halfway - stuck, somehow, wanting to be open but knowing he can’t be. there’s a theory that the reason so many women are unhappy is that women have multiple deeply intimate relationships in their friend groups while men only have a partner. isn’t that sad. isn’t it strange. 

the girl i knew in high school says “omfg this is me and u dan”. she’s talking about a post where married couples want to kill each other. my mother once asked me why i am so scared of touching. why the first time people show affection is the same time i start running. the comedian onstage uses his wife as a trampoline. all around me, people are laughing. the trouble is that jokes always have a bit of truth in them. i almost text him “haven’t heard from you in a while” but instead i turn off my phone. 

there’s a lot of things i don’t understand, i guess. bachelor parties where everyone gets wrecked to celebrate his last days of “freedom”. the idea men are giving up so much to be with just one woman. the idea that a woman who is showing toxic behavior is just a bitch, and not a serious threat. what do i know. sometimes it makes me sick. when i was little i believed in love. 

but why do people constantly equate nightmares with marriage?

[fermented-poet-blog]

Weeping Penis

My hand brushes across your face like the last leaf to an autumn branch, caught in infinite softspun seconds; your face silhouetted in shimmering shadow, your eyes ebony moonlit seas   Your lips brush against mine; a kiss like a whisper, lulled lullabies inaudible, yet ineluctable: the euphoric Now suspended between our fluttering trapeze hearts   I had thought that I'd only see you again in the sporadic dream; in that wintry frost of memory's window pane   and the pain crawled and crawled and the seconds dragged and dragged up my heart like ice to glass   But you're here now, a thousand summers spiraling out of your every word, a million storms shooting out of your every touch, a billion meteors streaking out of your every blink, an infinite bliss blossoming out of your every story;   and Winter is no more. - A.A/fermented-poet

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4 magic-filled months with you have helped erase the weight of the 272 that came before.

You are the North Star to a homesick explorer. You are marble cut from the cliffs, ivory keys that weave a lovesick melody, a rainbow that beknights the darkened skies, the songs of a whale that slice through the deep. You are the sun, rosy red; A twilight eruption.

One day you are going to find someone who loves you more than you love life itself. And this person will make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else. One day, you will see all the cities you fell in love with through photographs and meet people who resemble the characters in your favorite novels. One day, your dreams will come true.

[fermented-poet-blog]

Nature’s Tiniest Architects Nicky Bay

Nicky Bay is the master of capturing the exceptionally small, photographing insects typically passed over without acknowledgement or recognition. The Singapore-based photographer stays acutely aware of these tiny creatures, using macro photography to highlight each minuscule detail. While taking a closer look at the micro world found deep in the rainforest, Bay began to notice tiny structures built by his favorite subject. The bug buildings appear manmade—tiny log cabins, gates, tents, and fortresses blocking each insect from the world just beyond their carefully placed twigs and segments of silk.

You can see on his macro photography blog or follow his day-to-day macro photography on Facebook.

Images and text via

[fermented-poet-blog]

warmth of the moon

i was attempting to explore what lies behind our perceptions and i find your essence but i’m lost in the nebulous dimensions of my thoughts and direction

i thought saw you crossing at the intersection of love and fear longing for the garden where we are free floating above societal expectations

beyond the light of rings of saturn

we’re but butterflies in the wind

Instagram: www.instagram.com/houseofcapricorn

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A Letter To My Brain

My dearest brain,

          Do not try to find a solution in the mosaics of memories when my life is at its brink. You will not find one among the broken lovers, the fog filled faces of childhood, or the way the North Sea looks right before night descends. You will not find it in the beauty of dissonance, or how the leaves burn and rage into sputtering fireflies at the passing of autumn, or in the hours I incinerated to the insatiable flames of solitude.

         You will not find it in the days of bliss, where seconds reached infinities and more was communicated through kisses than through words, or how coffee tastes as good as it smells, or in the ecstasy of letting the warm springs of summer rain melt you into a laughing puddle of wet clothes.

         You will not find it in the restless nights in which my bed held one less slumbering figure than it was used to, or how She sounded right before the dizzying descent of sleep, or how warm She was to hold at night.

          You will only find a sleep of your own. And though you might be tempted to hide your face like a child under the sheets of faith, I urge you to face this sinking ship as I would in your shoes.

          Face Death knowing that there are infinities of oceans in whatever lies before us that have yet to be sailed. Time to weep, time to laugh, time to hurt, time to smile, time to hope, time to rest, time to remember, time to love. Time to be nothing at all.

          All of our ships, no matter how sturdy at the start, are soon reduced to paper mache by the tempests of time.

          All that we can ever hope to do is to face Death as we would an old friend. A familiar storm. A face of long ago.

          And as we sail to that darkest deep, we must hold on to our humanity. To our bravery. And cast our regrets not as anchors, but as petals in our wake; the very evidence that we truly existed.

          It is time to set sail.

                 Yours, forever                         fermented-poet

- A.A

[fermented-poet-blog]

don’t forget to drink your coffee, when you wake up at 3 in the morning make it black the way you thought gasoline would be when you were a kid cripplingly bitter masochistic even hide the cold tears you drained from your dreams in that thief of sleep when you stare at the swirls in your asbestos ceiling waiting until waiting until the end of it all

- A.A/fermented-poet

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..And The Night Is Enormous

I stood up under a placid star brimming like a corpse, and I whispered do something to me, steep universe: put your hands in my mouth and break my clenching jaw.

-A.A/fermented-poet

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Using

I reached for my pack          of reds but then I remembered            I quit                 awhile                   ago,

so I exhaled quick,        shook my head and that was that.

A little later I poured           a drink but then I remembered               I sobered up                   a couple months                       ago,

so I exhaled quick,        poured it out, and that was that.

Later that night I dialed            your number but then I remembered             you quit                   2 weeks                     ago,

so I lit a smoke          I poured a drink and that was that.

- A.A/fermented-poet

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Unsaid Words / A Party

“Hi! So okay, I know I’m a stranger,

and that you don’t know me,

and I don’t know you,

but very recently I’ve

come to the realization

that the number of people we meet

in this world isn’t nearly

as infinite as we’d think it to be,

and that our lives or this world,

for that matter, aren’t nearly as infinite

as we’d think them to be,

which is why I think it’s so special that,

upon first laying my eyes on you,

I felt that infinitude:

that boundless untick tock

frozen clock ticking vast vacuums

of savory saturated seconds,

of crossed legs and eyes the color of undug gold;

soft brown irises blinking etched eternities–

what I’m trying to say is you’re very beautiful!

And to be a hundred percent honest with you,

if I didn’t at least ask your name,

why,

I’d be as bitter as this black sambucca!

Ha!”

-A.A/fermented-poet

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Here, this is my heart. I’ve spent quite a lot of time putting it back together. I’m sorry about the cracks. Some people weren’t that gentle with it. Sometimes I wasn’t gentle either, but I’m getting better at it every day. I don’t really like having these protective walls up, but my past wasn’t great. I’ve knocked them down just to build them back up stronger than before every time. That’s become exhausting, but you’ll be different from the rest, won’t you? You won’t take this love for granted, you’ll cherish it, right? Right?

NaPoWriMo Day 22 - Trust // Maxwell Diawuoh (via maxwelldpoetry)

[fermented-poet-blog]

i. when you smile  the world forgets to breathe and all the air  sets on fire.   ii. what i mean to say is that yesterday when you asked me how i was doing it was the one nice thing that happened all day, and i know you’re just kind like that but it made things a little bit okay.   iii. you are the heat of noon sun and the  slice of cake and the laughter of an erupting mountain. oceans turn still when you meet them. you’re a ribbon of bright red, you burn so bright that even rocks melt  beside you   iv.  i want to burn my mouth on you.   v. what i mean to say is  it’s okay if we’re going nowhere,  as long as i’m going with you.

r.i.d (via inkskinned)