finngray

[finngray]

I followed hypnotized toes beneath crabs and sand. his tides pulled through my nose. finding a place to land on bobbing backs. tight sheets wound through our cracks could only hold so long. but as long as he’s holding me. his arms aren’t around me in Paris and he won’t even look at me the morning after. but the night before. the night before he touched every scale and told me of a tale. how a prince fell in love with a fish. wet and scaled. no right to come into crystal castles. until he saw how a fish looks in a necklace. then he was beckoning. practically begging for it to come onto land. he loved when my scales shone through the night. he loved how I was his ride to the moon. he loved how I broke my neck to be on his dinner plate. how I was insatiable and gave all my hunger to him.

I am starved.

I am starved.

My stomach can’t keep him full.

[finngray]

the calendar spoke in tongues

and the clock was in pieces

I put the numbers to my head and pulled the trigger

the lights sparked out and only a call was heard

screaming it is not your time

but it wasn’t yours

yet you were here

in the scariest moment of your life

holding no fear

but seeing that there was nothing left for you

I took an idle walk back home

no home without you

and I placed bloodied numbers onto a white plate and crossed the dates on the calendar

it said time passes

but I argued never truly without you

[finngray]

A before and afterlife

sometimes you move mountains or beg hospitals for your fix

All I do is get on my knees, you are just so easy to please

I’m the barer of this bruise

but its a weight I am more than willing to bare

sometimes I sit in the bath and need to look at the forensics to see if those legs are mine

sometimes I bask in the sun with binoculars to see my family

doctors plead that blue and purples knees are not hereditary

All lies, I can see it in our family eyes

I see the reflection in your eyes

A heroin filled needle that you’d jump at the chance to try

After such a tragedy

I’d let the wound fill with your spite

A needle of words and thread of action

I am better off with you in my veins then anywhere near my bubble soaked knees

[finngray]

Even the moon couldn’t pull my tides to your shore; Sure sure sure. He said he’d pack the sand and moved onto a less erratic man; okay okay okay. Theres enough fish in the sea but you pretend I’m not me. Im begging for this. Pulling out the scales for this. 112 is too much for this; The twinkling says they’ll only put me on a gold platter at 111. For now I’m eaten with rusted spoons And I know that very soon (so soon so soon) Will my past be a due so I can start a new. And rhyming can’t stop the ringing when a hammer meets my temples. When a knife slides across my side. When my eyes are the hole to my heart. The rust of time peels my covers; mine mine mine. Take everything of me. Every bit of me. Devoured till I’m 5 pounds. Until I’m almost nothing but a sound. Surely, 5 pounds and a golden plate can turn the tides to my side. But the moon yelps almost gleefully and I see your sharpened teeth.

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Idek what to think about this. Its not much though. Ewww no I kind of hate it. Anyways please enjoy hating this. I can’t enjoy my distaste because it just makes me want to kms. Somebody give me their poet tongue so I can write something that doesnt suck. 🙏

[finngray]

You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.

[finngray]

I love when you find an author who just has a good flavor to their writing. It could be the way they handle characters, the way they use certain tropes or themes, even the specific lilt of their words. Its familiar and comforting and carries across different stories, like coming back to a place of comfort and recognizing the furniture.

[finngray]

pin drops before the death

shaking breath is all I can sweat

through this tunnel I navigate

love, you know dying cant wait

I swore I’d leave it all there

with the pills and dying hares

through the field I go

soon the memories will follow

popcorns laced with something strange

hanging feet in disarray

love, you know dying cant wait

lifes stuck in replay

maybe they’ll say it was fate

all these drugs that display

the habits of a man who can’t wait

maybe this will scare you straight

she’ll stay by the bed

till; the shaking will end

will it, love?

love?

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This is less of a poem and was more intended to be lyrics but I have no desire to actually write a song. So idk imagine some kind of musical build up. ALSO someone tell me how to get rid of the double spacing because its ugly and I very much dislike it!! Anyways enjoy my dum poem that I sloppily threw together in 10 minutes. I just wanna forget about this so here! 😀

[finngray]

I sit in fields that span for miles. Everyday I am sat in a newer, bigger one.

I scream your name and clutch at the grass. The blades slip between my fingers and I feel you.

I fall and embrace the cold earth. The wind flows over my body as if I’ve been here before.

It traces my edges the way you would and I have to force myself not to turn and grab it.

I learned from you that I want too much. I turn too quickly. Words come out prickly.

I’m uncomfortable with the comfortable. The only thing holding me on the ground is the grass itching my cheek.

The wind is too slow and is truthful. I’d have to be an idiot to believe anything that comes out of its mouth.

So I turn around.

I feel it run the other way, I grasp and grasp. For a second it turns back my way and laughs.

This is the first poem I’ve ever written so its crap I know, sorry. Anywayssss. Would appreciate advice on how to get the flow of poetry because I don’t hate what I’m writing about but I’m just struggling grasping how to write it. ALSO I hate tumblr formatting it looks strange with this poem but I am too lazy to fix it so I’ll have to deal.