citadark
a siren's lament

there is a longing in my soul, a
fire behind my eyes driving me forwards, onwards, endlessly
desperate to slash the ropes holding the mast afloat
desperate to cut the anchor away, to simply:
run, run, run, run as far as the sea will take us both
every second that ticks by i feel more compelled, more
desperate than ever to grasp your hand
soft, kind, tempered, steady
and pull, pull, pull
”run away with me,” my eyes plead,
my voice is hoarse and soft a whisper
let the ocean wash us as far away as She wants
and never return.


loving you feels like galaxies:
supernovas, dust and glitter breaking apart
and forming something beautiful
and breathtaking
i see whirlpools in the mirror’s eyes
i see constellations across your face, i see
stars and galaxies painted in your eyes
i feel as if the ocean might swallow me whole;
that’s alright with me, if you’ll only sink with me

the waves against the shore of this little;
island we may find ourselves on
is a convienently wrapped metaphor and disguise
for the maelstrom of thoughts i cannot spit out
i would let you take me westwards into the setting sun
as far as your gleefull heart wanted to carry me
letting you guide the sails and ropes of
the raft we built lovingly
to go anywhere, anywhere,
anywhere but here, anywhere you’d like
nowhere at all if it means i get to watch the lights
twinkle in your eyes delightedly
watching the horizon never end.

i am sinking,
falling,
the water around me tugs my clothes
and beckons me to sleep,
my lungs fill with starlight cradled in salt and seaweed
and the dark is illuminated with the light from above
my limbs have always been so heavy;
when i was a child,
those stronger than me hoisted me aboard
their vessel, consumable and useful
and when they grew sick of their scrutiny-filled gazes
sinking into every exposed inch,
they sewed stones and iron into every seam
of the clothes i repaired,
laughing while they pushed me o’erboard.
you fight while your brain still has the;
capacity to struggle, to thrash, some desperate
instinct to surface just one more time
even when the odds of it are insurmountable.
eventually,
you grow so weary of fighting.
i have been so tired, so weary,
too long a pillar of seawater-soaked wood and stone
used as a mast by others to hoist their open sails
that by now, the sea’s siren song
is welcomed as a blissful blessing, a reprive
you streak down
a trail of starlight, in blue fluorecents draping your movement
and so stubbornly wrap me in your arms
gently pushing off the too-heavy, waterlogged
clothes that i have long since outgrown
allowing the depths to claim their prize
you surface as if you’ve found the real treasure,
and i, the epitome of grace,
coughing seawater and stinging eyes,
cannot help but feel like half of one.


you are the captain of our ship,
a raft by any other name
built together with our own four hands, and
meager resources, trust,
orchid vines for lashing,
a sail fashioned from cloth patchwork
we salvaged from old clothes and
beloved toys.
i would follow you to the end of the worlds,
to oblivion, to the endless horizon,
anywhere, as long as it’s with you
i know we can’t drift astray.
i wear the past upon my skin like
tempered steel, a blade i raise to parry and protect
a coat we’ve fashioned like new,
worn and dull but still comfortable and polished
and you wear the future as a promise upon your
lips, a smile rivaling the sun’s light
i watch you scan the sky with a half smile;
it’s only half past two o’clock.


my heart is warm and safe
with yours, wrapped in cotton and
fleece in a simple box-spring
there is a longing in my soul, a
desperate fire behind my eyes that you
oh so delicately take note of,
brushing fingertips clumsily underneath them
as if i was something precious,
breakable, valuable.
“beloved, rest a spell;
we can stoke the embers in the morning.”