sutoberri

[sutoberri]

dust

i felt him fall and vanish within me

lost to the scrambles of time and what was left of my heart

my heart, bitten in two

two pieces for two people

part of me was lost when he left,

a shell of a person i once was, licked clean from the inside like a tortoise shell,

but an empty husk was better than what i had become,

a creature bent incongruently straight from hell,

until my wings grew from bones stripped of flesh,

sprouting like a venomous plant from a budding flower

these metallic sounds clacking together as oil fell from my body,

blood and plump skin eaten by his beastly form

how i miss the way his mouth would sound when his teeth ripped through my muscles.

[sutoberri]

my lady, my liege

lady night engulfed us in her darkness, allowing me and him to fall into each other.

he and i were one in the same in her eyes.

my lady does not pick favorites.

she sees with no eyes, but with her lips.

her lips plant a kiss above the brows of her victims, allowing them to sink into her gown of twilight.

those who sink always come up.

those who have seen my lady cannot describe her.

she is one of many skins, one who cannot be identified properly.

there is nothing special to my lady's appearance.

she is one with man, maintaining no different features.

yet she is recognized by us all.

and my liege sits among us, waiting.

for what she waits is unknown, but all become consumed by her.

she is all, she is everything.

my lady, my liege, my madame night.

may she rest in us all.

[sutoberri]

season

wrinkles on his hand

dried and torn from the winter

he must miss summer

[sutoberri]

i miss him

the way you miss a festering wound,

familiar with the pain

and the ability to heal it when it got infected.

[sutoberri]

my bluebird

bellow, bellow,

i hear my bluebird cry,

a soft broken cello

his tune gone awry.

in his pricked throat

his song garbled out

i can feel the notes float

stinging me with doubt.

i picked him up in my hands,

petting his bespeckled head,

i learn of his demands,

i promise they will be met.

[sutoberri]

recycling

it was there the lovers refused to stand;

bones broken, minds bland,

and in the solemn moonlight it shone,

the emptiness of their forgotten home

in baited breaths and mumbled chants,

they're given now a soul to brand

to mark with crescents and hearts and suns

to be given the glory each one could become.

[sutoberri]

The Man Who Was My Muse

had dark circles below his eyes

thin creases marked from his mother

teeth that swayed to the center

a mole on tan lips

a man? no, he was but a boy

but muse he was nonetheless

mariposa estrella

he who i loved

before i could be loved back.

still, he haunts my old sketchbooks

every drawing turns into him

molded like clay out of hands

that were not my own

every poem formed in the

same shape of his laugh.

like it was something forced out of him

torn from his stomach and displayed

for the public to see.

the man who was my muse

lived in his different faces

like a chameleon that

forgot what color he was meant to be.

yellow? no, green. wait, pink? no, maroon.

yes, i miss that man,

for great art he beheld.

though my heart holds anew,

when i paint him his face is askew

i forget the slant of his eyes,

the set of his jaw, so handsome

the delicate set of his lips,

it is all unnatural to me,

a language i am afraid to touch.

[sutoberri]

o, my fire

o, my fire burn away the worst of me warm the parts nobody sees o, my fire o, my fire. o, my flame warp the wind the way we'd like cast a draft that gives me flight o, my flame o, my flame. o, my blaze light the torch along the road shield us when the cold wind blows o, my blaze o, my blaze. although you've saved my life so much there's a pained blessing to your touch the world's cruelest joke, it drives me mad that i could never hold your hand.

[sutoberri]

motive

i thought i would tell you

that i'm doing better.

yes,

i have these conversations with myself

in my head

all the time.

it gets so bad

i dream about you.

not being with you again,

no,

the harbor has closed on that,

ferryman said "boarding no more"

and i smiled to myself

a satisfied grin,

tight lipped.

i dream about getting you back

somehow.

i find out what she knows

and i tell her more.

she and i become best friends,

we braid each other's hair,

wear each other's clothes,

she learns my hobbies and i learn hers,

i give her gifts and

we go on outings,

we have many similarities,

i always wanted to be her friend.

and,

yes,

this is what i wanted all along.

[sutoberri]

on-line

in clothed kisses,

and bittersweet love,

we made a haven of our mistaken dove.

why, with love held tightly

above our halo-barren heads,

this love was a mystery for us

alone in our beds.

[sutoberri]

dead rabbits by the garage

there was a dead rabbit outside my house last night. i took out the trash, and in the dull and orange garage light, i saw it; gruesome scene, a cat got it. to kill out of hunger is not unfamiliar to me, it seems my hungry hands either lose or kill all they can hold.

i feel for the cat, though i too feel for the rabbit. it did not deserve to die, although the cat deserves to eat. if nobody else is going to feed it, i don't blame it for what it did. the rabbit was born with a fear in it, shining in its eyes and showing in its speed - i wonder if it knew this would happen someday.

neither animal is to blame here. in another universe, i was both the cat and the rabbit. i was both hungry and scared, and i suppose i still am.

[sutoberri]

i find it insanely depressing how i always seemed to understand it was doomed. i knew we were starcrossed, i knew, in the end, he could never actually love me. i feel like so much of our relationship perched itself upon the fact that it was going to end. never at any point did he believe we could persevere. yet i always did. i was always this dreamer, an icarus for his affections--

but icarus i, truly, was not, for he was not the sun.

[sutoberri]

overwatering

your eyes are a beautiful golden brown.

like honey i could suckle out.

and your hands could be intertwined with mine.

only if we were so inclined.

your voice would be sickly sweet.

even if you were stuck with me.

you could make my face burn a thousand suns.

and even then, you wouldn't be done.

make my heart swell like a deck of cards.

and by then, we'd gone too far.

[sutoberri]

it was good for, like, a little bit

i tricked you

i plotted and schemed

but you lied to me

made me believe that this is what love was like

this is what being cared for meant

but it wasn't

and it still isn't

but i don't know how to unlearn it

find solace in what we have now

while forgetting what i thought was eden

i don't know how you show me you care

everything blends together now

in pools of black and white

i hate being reminded of times before

because a part of me wants them back

at least when i thought

you loved me too

[sutoberri]

and all i loved, i loved alone

[sutoberri]

soul tied up

we watched together as our souls were lain to rest.

we saw them glow brighter than a beacon, then sputter out like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

our souls found the other right away.

we were meant to be, finally i knew.

his looked to mine, and mine ran to his.

they collapsed in the other's arms, and my chest fell with relief.

but my soul was no longer part of me.

it was distant.

and it became more and more distant the farther i got from him.

yet he stayed at the forefront of my mind.

he stayed like a pest would, constantly itching at my brain.

if i could reach inside my head to take him out myself, i would.

yet now, he stays.

i wander.

i forget how long.

my mind fogs, nothing goes through.

he is all i can think of.

every other thought has blocked itself out, or been hidden by the fog of my own head.

i do not know what i do.

but i search.

i search for him.

mindlessly.

i do not know who i search for.

though all aspects of him are shown to me in multicolor, so vivid i could nearly feel his skin under my fingers, place my lips on his, rosy and warm as a coffin.

i recall every memory we had together.

the mornings he would wake me early with the smell of tea.

the days he would leave work early, just to see me.

the afternoons we would spend, entangled in the other.

the nights we spent, our hands wandering as though we hadn't known the others body off by heart anymore.

the mole by his lips, the creases under his eyes, the soft pads of his fingers.

all remained.

yet i wandered.

soon enough, i allowed the thoughts to wander free.

they no longer became memories repressed, but memories relished.

i hoped every passing minute would be replaced by those we passed together.

the fog in my mind never cleared, it only solidified.

my one goal was here.

him.

-

i seethed with jealousy when i thought of my soul.

blessed by tyche herself it was.

for she could spend her eternity with him.

yet i was here, damned by fate to do nothing but

wander.

and wander is what i did.

-

i later forgot i wandered.

it felt as though i was no longer part of my body.

it merely acted as a vessel for me to reside in.

and this living was a comfort.

that was until, the fog began to clear.

front in line of my mind he stayed, but other thoughts joined him.

he watched me, watched as i struggled to manage with more than just one thought.

him.

him.

him.

he is all i wanted to think of now.

yet i had to re-inhabit my body, one that i did not even want anymore.

for this body is no longer my body.

this body is a vessel, yes-

it is a vessel to get my mind to him.

and it took me a bit to realize, it had done it's job.

for there my love stood, watching me with his familiar creased eyes.

his mind also sought out a body, i knew, and we went to each other free of words.

for the moment i sank into his warm, scathing embrace, i knew all would be rendered obsolete.

[sutoberri]

an end

i wait for there to be an end

i watch from the ship's harbor

snaggled and slim

and i watch and wait for the tide to come in

mystic moons leer bright above

four, no five, and a fighting dove

the dove paler than the moonlight below

i sit alone and wait for home

crescents shine above the deep

the sea creeps near, a pheasants beak

a river of oil as it simmers above

and there, alone, over the titan's abode

and on and on, it stays in play

with the ocean's current stricking a shy bay

with hidden kisses and cracked lips

there lie a story inside that ship

but as the sea, vast and lean

took us in with a snarky gleam

we plundered and wondered what life we'd lead

had we never left the sea