Have you ever seen a ship in a bottle? You wonder how it got there because the entrance to the bottle is so small. It's a delicate process. If you were to attempt to force that big ship into that little hole the ship would break.
To me it meant that if you try to force her into his heart, she will break because there is no room for her in his heart. Kinda like when you love someone who doesn't love you, but you keep trying because you hope one day they'll change their mind... it breaks you more to keep trying.
Unrequited love, A play in nine acts. One : The questions hangs a hook through my pink cheek. How did you do that thing that you did to my heart? Two : Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourselves in one another. How you took one brief look into the mirror of her, turned around, and walked away. Three : The girls arms are empty. But her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts. Watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are. Four : there are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body i reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slip from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love i want is a basketball. A heavy thumping in the chest. When it is my turn to step up to the plate, I do not swing. I do not swing. Five : Her name is a wooden ship. To try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her. Six : A montage of all the times i wished out had taken my hand, and then when you didn't, and the moment passed, a montage of all the i wished myself far far away to. Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place i have never seen your smile. Seven : What is the name of a place everyone can see is burning? But no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place. and that place is not a place but a person. and that person is the I in my poems only it's my real life body that aches. And isn't that love? not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb? and the bomb is also you? Eight : The girls hair turns to forget-me-nots and thyme. Her bones soften to willow branches, her skin flaws maple leaves. Her chest is a cabinet of well stacked cigar boxes. caskets carrying memories, she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation, she passes smoke. The girl collects sea shells. Up-turns them into bowls, fills them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still, remembering is her favourite pass time. She cannot hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief, but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and its tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness. How she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why. why the boy might want to live so far away from her now when his house is only a couple blocks south of ten minutes. And all that space lays still. Loud as a snails cry. Wouldn't I know about crawling up inside ones self. Wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and a floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding nine other plates onto of it, how its all so unbearable. Holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless. This period of heavy pockets. Of change her heart is unwilling to make. Nine : Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still, you.
"she can not hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief but also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness, how she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why, why the boy might want to live so far away" my heart.
a montage of all the times i'd wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn't and the moment passed a montage of all the places i'd wished myself far far away to girl......
She's changed so much since "explaining my depression to my mother " it's amazing watching these wonderful people change and grow an become more popular and recognized for their art. I love her !
VI - A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn't, and the moment passed, a montage of all the places I wished myself far, far away to- Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place I have never seen your smile. THIS is the realest thing I've ever heard
"What is the name of a place that everyone can see, is burning, but, No one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place, And the place is not a place, but a person, And that person is the 'I' in my poems, Only it's my real life body that aches! And isn't that love? Not being able to see the explosion, Even if you're the one holding the bomb, And the bomb is also you!" And that, my friends, is the kind of the love, I think, everyone must feel, at least once in their entire lifetime, to see the true colours of true, pure and unconditional love! ❤️
wooden ships in glass bottles are common decorative pieces (can do a quick google search). when you look at them it seems impossible for the ship to fit into the bottle via the small opening. so with regards to this metaphor, I think it means something along the lines of: if he won't return her love, there is no way for her to force him to love her back without hurting herself.
ieatchu. rawrz. thank you for helping Don't Read Me Like This. :) I agree could mean she can't force him to love without hurting herself, also she can't force herself to be what he wants without breaking herself. these are thoughts I can personally relate to. Poetry is always shaped by what you need it to be.
I just preordered her book, she is one of my favorite poets on this channel, I've listened to this about 10 times now, it fits how I feel at the moment perfectly. It's amazing
I wasn't prepared for her words to be so much of what I still feel from my break up and what I think about but hate thinking about. I will definitely be giving several more cathartic listens to this piece
“A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn’t and the moment passed a montage of all the paces I wished myself far far away too... basically any place I have never seen your smile.”
Unrequited love, a play in nine acts. 1) The question hangs a hook through my pink cheek. How did you do that thing that you did to my heart? 2) Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourself in one another. How you took one brief look into the mirror of her, turned around, and walked away? 3) The girl's arms are empty, but her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts. Watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are. 4) There are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slipped from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball. I had these thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate. I do not swing, I do not swing. 5) Her name is a wooden ship to try and force it into his glass bottle. Heart would only break her. 6) A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then, when you didn't, and the moment passed a montage of all the places I wished myself far far away to: Portland, Barcelona, basically any place I have never seen your smile. 7) What is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning, but no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place? And that place is not a place but a person and that person is the I in my poems. Only it's my real-life body that aches, and isn't that love not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb and the bomb is also you? 8) The girls hair turns to forget-me-nots and time. Her bones softened to willow branches, her skin flakes may believe. Her chest is now a cabinet of well stacked cigar boxes. Caskets carrying memories she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation she passes smoke. The girl collect seashells up turns them into bowls filled them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still remembering is her favorite pastime. She cannot hold her heart up without trembling, so she hides it away in bottomless Midnight's, which are her grief, but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness. How she wants and wants and wants, and needs to know why why the boy might want to live so far away from her now, when his house is just a couple blocks south of ten minutes, and all that space lays still loud as a snails cry. Wouldn't I know about crawling up inside oneself? Wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and a floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding nine other plates on top of it? How it's also unbearable... holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless this period of heavy pockets of change her heart is unwilling to make? 9) Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still… you.
Was literally just looking at flights to places where his smile has never been when I stumbled across this poem. Too close to home, Sabrina. Too close!
this is so beautiful, I particularly love the line about cigar boxes. I hate to be annoying but as I'm here I thought I'd mention I do poetry on my own channel and I'd really appreciate it if anyone fancied giving it a look! x
Why? Are you trying to make him feel guilty or shit about himself? Why prolong negativity for pride or ego? Letting go will always be the hardest part; revenge is easy, superficial and young minded. Let go.
Poetry fits everything I cannot say out loud, everything I wish I could scream on the top of my lungs in an empty caver. If they could hear me, they would be unreasonable, but I wouldn't care. I'd just leave. They don't need to know, they just need to see that they had a chance to figure it out and didn't even try, time is something you have more of than I do, after all.
Her words are just beautiful. Can someone explain the followingto me? "There are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slipped from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball. I had these thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate. I do not swing, I do not swing." Thanks:)
Unrequited love. A play in 9 acts. 1. The question hangs a hook through my pink cheek, how did you do that thing that you did to my heart? 2. Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourselves in one another? How you took one brief look into the mirror of her turned around and walked away. 3. The girl's arms are empty but her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts, watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are. 4. There are baseballs falling out of my mouth, each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself, a parade of honest names slip from the grip my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball, a heavy thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate I do not swing. I do not swing. 5. Her name is a wooden ship to try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her. 6. A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn't and the moment passed a montage of all the places I wished myself far far away to, Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place I have never seen your smile. 7. What is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning but no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place and that place is not a place but a person and that person is the eye in my poems. Only it's my real life body that aches, and isn't that love? Not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb and the bomb is also you. 8. The girl's hair turns to forget-me-nots and time, her bones soften to willow branches, her skin flakes maple leaves, her chest is now a cabinet of well-stacked cigar boxes. Caskets carrying memories she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation, she passes smoke. The girl collects seashells upturns them into bowls, fills them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still remembering is her favorite past time. She can not hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness, how she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why, why the boy might want to live so far away from her now when his house is just a couple blocks south of ten minutes and all that space lays still loud as a snails cry and wouldn't I know about crawling up inside oneself wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding 9 other plates on top of it how it's all so unbearable holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless. This period of heavy pockets of change her heart is unwilling to make 9. Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still you.
![Summer Walker - Heart Of A Woman [Official Lyric Video]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/SFddctbZzw8/mqdefault.jpg)
"Her name is a wooden ship. To try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her."
this line broke me
Hey, could you explain this part to me? I didn't quite get it.
Have you ever seen a ship in a bottle? You wonder how it got there because the entrance to the bottle is so small. It's a delicate process. If you were to attempt to force that big ship into that little hole the ship would break.
Alessandra Russell t
She loves him and when she tries desperately to express that love and he does not rociprocate it breaks her heart.
To me it meant that if you try to force her into his heart, she will break because there is no room for her in his heart. Kinda like when you love someone who doesn't love you, but you keep trying because you hope one day they'll change their mind... it breaks you more to keep trying.
“9. Did you hear me? I said I love you, I said I STILL love you... still you.”
This one... got me.
Can you explain this one to me, I didnt get it
"...Isn't that love not being able to see the explosion even if you're the one holding the bomb and the bomb is also you..."
🥺
Unrequited love, A play in nine acts.
One : The questions hangs a hook through my pink cheek. How did you do that thing that you did to my heart?
Two : Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourselves in one another. How you took one brief look into the mirror of her, turned around, and walked away.
Three : The girls arms are empty. But her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts. Watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are.
Four : there are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body i reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slip from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love i want is a basketball. A heavy thumping in the chest. When it is my turn to step up to the plate, I do not swing. I do not swing.
Five : Her name is a wooden ship. To try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her.
Six : A montage of all the times i wished out had taken my hand, and then when you didn't, and the moment passed, a montage of all the i wished myself far far away to. Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place i have never seen your smile.
Seven : What is the name of a place everyone can see is burning? But no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place. and that place is not a place but a person. and that person is the I in my poems only it's my real life body that aches. And isn't that love? not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb? and the bomb is also you?
Eight : The girls hair turns to forget-me-nots and thyme. Her bones soften to willow branches, her skin flaws maple leaves. Her chest is a cabinet of well stacked cigar boxes. caskets carrying memories, she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation, she passes smoke. The girl collects sea shells. Up-turns them into bowls, fills them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still, remembering is her favourite pass time. She cannot hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief, but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and its tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness. How she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why. why the boy might want to live so far away from her now when his house is only a couple blocks south of ten minutes. And all that space lays still. Loud as a snails cry. Wouldn't I know about crawling up inside ones self. Wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and a floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding nine other plates onto of it, how its all so unbearable. Holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless. This period of heavy pockets. Of change her heart is unwilling to make.
Nine : Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still, you.
I'm a simple woman, I see Sabrina I click.
Sem sis sem :")
loved her since i first saw "explaining my depression to my mother" (:
me too!
samee
Same, was the first Poem I heard from her about 4 years ago
How are you?
Saammee!!
"she can not hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief but also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness, how she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why, why the boy might want to live so far away" my heart.
a montage of all the times i'd wished you had taken my hand
and then when you didn't
and the moment passed
a montage of all the places i'd wished myself far far away to
girl......
Happened to read this at the same time she read it😄
"... Basically any place that I haven't seen your smile." Chills.
❤️
"how it's so unbearable , holding love, how it's makes this girl feel helpless, this period of heavy pockets .."
amazing..
She's changed so much since "explaining my depression to my mother " it's amazing watching these wonderful people change and grow an become more popular and recognized for their art. I love her !
VI - A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn't, and the moment passed, a montage of all the places I wished myself far, far away to- Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place I have never seen your smile.
THIS is the realest thing I've ever heard
"And isn't that love? Not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb?"
"What is the name of a place that everyone can see, is burning, but,
No one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place,
And the place is not a place, but a person,
And that person is the 'I' in my poems,
Only it's my real life body that aches!
And isn't that love?
Not being able to see the explosion,
Even if you're the one holding the bomb,
And the bomb is also you!"
And that, my friends, is the kind of the love, I think, everyone must feel, at least once in their entire lifetime, to see the true colours of true, pure and unconditional love! ❤️
Dhruv Vaidya : Love only hurts till you love again
This is the second poem of Sabrina I'm seeing. Ordered her book after the first.
We hope you enjoy it!
She broke my heart all over again.
"Her name is a wooden ship, to try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her." Love this and her piece How to unfold a memory.
Hey, could you explain this part to me? I didn't quite get it.
wooden ships in glass bottles are common decorative pieces (can do a quick google search). when you look at them it seems impossible for the ship to fit into the bottle via the small opening. so with regards to this metaphor, I think it means something along the lines of: if he won't return her love, there is no way for her to force him to love her back without hurting herself.
ieatchu. rawrz. thank you for helping Don't Read Me Like This. :) I agree could mean she can't force him to love without hurting herself, also she can't force herself to be what he wants without breaking herself. these are thoughts I can personally relate to. Poetry is always shaped by what you need it to be.
This one is hands down the most accurate towards my experience with unrequited love. wow.
"Isn't that... love not being able to see the explosion... even though you are the one holding the bomb... and the bomb is also you"
enriching.... sabrina takes me on a journey every single time she performs
Bought my copy of Sabrina's book this morning and I'm so excited for August to get here now. ♡ Every poem I've heard her perform is incredible.
I've watched this 100 times, cried and cried again, and it still does that thing to me where I can't even breathe...
I just preordered her book, she is one of my favorite poets on this channel, I've listened to this about 10 times now, it fits how I feel at the moment perfectly. It's amazing
this is so beautiful and it hit so close to home it actually made me cry
I wasn't prepared for her words to be so much of what I still feel from my break up and what I think about but hate thinking about.
I will definitely be giving several more cathartic listens to this piece
This is easily one of the most beautifulest things i have heard.
I cry almost every time I hear this...
" Did you hear me? I said, I love you. I said, I still love you. Still. You. "
“A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn’t and the moment passed a montage of all the paces I wished myself far far away too... basically any place I have never seen your smile.”
Still, remembering is her favorite pastime
Absolutely love her, and her poetry.
She is a Phenomenal Poet 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
and isn't that love? not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb; and the bomb is also you?
ooooh, i saw this poem on a livestream a while back and it gave me shivers like crazy then- same goes for now. sab, you're amazing.
Why is this so relatable? I was looking for potential school-performance poems but this one feels like my soul on a dinner plate.
#7 hit me like a bag of bricks. Sabrina is my favorite poet. I really want her book.
Already liked first second into the video cuz I know its gonna be AHMAZING!!
Also, SO EXCITED to see her on BP again!
I cannot be the only one that watches this at least once a week...love her work
She is such a great POET!!!!! I love her poetry
i think this is my fav poem ever
Unrequited love, a play in nine acts.
1) The question hangs a hook through my pink cheek. How did you do that thing that you did to my heart?
2) Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourself in one another. How you took one brief look into the mirror of her, turned around, and walked away?
3) The girl's arms are empty, but her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts. Watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are.
4) There are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slipped from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball. I had these thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate. I do not swing, I do not swing.
5) Her name is a wooden ship to try and force it into his glass bottle. Heart would only break her.
6) A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then, when you didn't, and the moment passed a montage of all the places I wished myself far far away to: Portland, Barcelona, basically any place I have never seen your smile.
7) What is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning, but no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place? And that place is not a place but a person and that person is the I in my poems. Only it's my real-life body that aches, and isn't that love not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb and the bomb is also you?
8) The girls hair turns to forget-me-nots and time. Her bones softened to willow branches, her skin flakes may believe. Her chest is now a cabinet of well stacked cigar boxes. Caskets carrying memories she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation she passes smoke. The girl collect seashells up turns them into bowls filled them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still remembering is her favorite pastime. She cannot hold her heart up without trembling, so she hides it away in bottomless Midnight's, which are her grief, but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness. How she wants and wants and wants, and needs to know why why the boy might want to live so far away from her now, when his house is just a couple blocks south of ten minutes, and all that space lays still loud as a snails cry. Wouldn't I know about crawling up inside oneself?
Wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and a floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding nine other plates on top of it? How it's also unbearable... holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless this period of heavy pockets of change her heart is unwilling to make?
9) Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still… you.
did you hear me. ...
i loved this poem before, but now that i can relate to every word i love it even more
Was literally just looking at flights to places where his smile has never been when I stumbled across this poem. Too close to home, Sabrina. Too close!
This poem is so dope. I wasn't really sure if I liked it at first but the way it all came together was great.
i love her so much
I was speechless at "2.)"... Incredible.
Love only hurts till you love again
i cry :(
this is so beautiful, I particularly love the line about cigar boxes. I hate to be annoying but as I'm here I thought I'd mention I do poetry on my own channel and I'd really appreciate it if anyone fancied giving it a look! x
She is actually the best.
I think about this poem a lot.
I've listened to this everynight since he left.
I love this poem (possibly because I'm the one currently holding love, lol)! Her style... I love her style of poetry :)
I know this feeling too well. This is just what I needed to hear. Thank you! I'll be ordering your book.
this is so timely..
This is insanely good.
I love sebraina. her words uplift me
Exceptional poem Sabrina
the question hangs a hook through my pink cheek would could you do that thing that you did to my heart
this hurt me so bad
Unrequited love...💔
This hit me so hard. Sabrina is one of my favorites for sure.
First poem to make me cry.
i love sabrina so much
THIS DESCRIBES MY HEART OMG
“Her name is a wooden ship. To try and force it into his glass bottle heart, would only break her.”
She’s so talented!
This poem is so beautiful ❤️
she’s just beyond
Preordered Sabrina's book! Love her work. xx
Thank you!
Oh, that's so beautiful....
SHE'S BAAAACK
Hit the feels right on the button 😢
Holding love
Wonderful. Thank you.
She is so pretty, i love her
I will send this to the boy who broke my heart
introvert person I'd do the same but I have no way to contact him except school
And then kill him!
Why? Are you trying to make him feel guilty or shit about himself? Why prolong negativity for pride or ego? Letting go will always be the hardest part; revenge is easy, superficial and young minded. Let go.
SABRINAS FUCKING BACK LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
Remembering is also my favorite pastime.
Poetry fits everything I cannot say out loud, everything I wish I could scream on the top of my lungs in an empty caver. If they could hear me, they would be unreasonable, but I wouldn't care. I'd just leave. They don't need to know, they just need to see that they had a chance to figure it out and didn't even try, time is something you have more of than I do, after all.
I love Sabrina!
This hit my heart pretty hard..
Her words are just beautiful.
Can someone explain the followingto me?
"There are baseballs falling out of my mouth. Each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself. A parade of honest names slipped from the grip of my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball. I had these thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate. I do not swing, I do not swing."
Thanks:)
This hurts just as much at 21 as it does at 14. I’ll never be the one someone changes for.
I love her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Brilliant!
such a good poem
Never clicked a video so quick
“Did you hear me? I said love you . I said I still love you. Still you.”
my heart…..
This makes me want to start writing again.
This is so beautiful
could someone please comment the entire poem?
It'll be available in her book!
Button Poetry LOL I'm broke! I will find it online in pieces before I can cough up enough to buy that book on sale or not.
Feline P It's been done!
Unrequited love. A play in 9 acts.
1. The question hangs a hook through my pink cheek, how did you do that thing that you did to my heart?
2. Because isn't the real tragedy how you found yourselves in one another? How you took one brief look into the mirror of her turned around and walked away.
3. The girl's arms are empty but her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts, watch their fitful ridicule each time she cries over love less real than they are.
4. There are baseballs falling out of my mouth, each ball a name of a body I reached for in the dark to find myself, a parade of honest names slip from the grip my loose glove jaw. The love I want is a basketball, a heavy thumping in the chest when it is my turn to step up to the plate I do not swing. I do not swing.
5. Her name is a wooden ship to try and force it into his glass bottle heart would only break her.
6. A montage of all the times I wished you had taken my hand and then when you didn't and the moment passed a montage of all the places I wished myself far far away to, Portland, Barcelona. Basically any place I have never seen your smile.
7. What is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning but no one can feel the effects of the smoke or the heat of the flames except the place and that place is not a place but a person and that person is the eye in my poems. Only it's my real life body that aches, and isn't that love? Not being able to see the explosion even though you are the one holding the bomb and the bomb is also you.
8. The girl's hair turns to forget-me-nots and time, her bones soften to willow branches, her skin flakes maple leaves, her chest is now a cabinet of well-stacked cigar boxes. Caskets carrying memories she is slow turning to ash. In lieu of conversation, she passes smoke. The girl collects seashells upturns them into bowls, fills them with dried lavender and amethyst in hopes of luring someone new. Still remembering is her favorite past time. She can not hold her heart up without trembling so she hides it away in bottomless midnights which are her grief but are also her lust. The girl is now a girl who is also a whale, full of unoccupied space and it's tragic how she displaces her emptiness with loneliness, how she wants and wants and wants and needs to know why, why the boy might want to live so far away from her now when his house is just a couple blocks south of ten minutes and all that space lays still loud as a snails cry and wouldn't I know about crawling up inside oneself wouldn't I know about a body full of waiting and floor clean as a plate in a cupboard holding 9 other plates on top of it how it's all so unbearable holding love. How it makes the girl feel helpless. This period of heavy pockets of change her heart is unwilling to make
9. Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I still love you. Still you.
thank you
so beautiful 😭😭💖
Yes it is
..poetry, poetry... nice!
Magic.
9 did you hear me? I said I love you , still you ✨🤙🏿❤️👏🏽
Number 7!!!
"Isn't that love? Not being able to see the explosion, even though you are the one holding the bomb, and the bomb is also you?"
amazing!
It hurts so bad, I couldn't find the words. But she could.