The Weight of Holding On: Poems collection No.3

Dual Flame

I ate my bones last night…
They tasted like your eyes.

I ate my bones last night,
They crumbled like salt on my tongue.
The marrow whispered, but the voice was not mine,
Or maybe it was, maybe it was...
I swallowed anyway.

My ribs float in a glass by the bed,
They hum when the silence is thick.
I listen for answers, I listen for ghosts,
But all I hear is doors that click,
Footsteps fading, echoes sick.

Oh, the moon melted in my hands again,
Silver sickness at my feet.
I didn’t clean it, I let it bleed,
Let it take me, let it eat.

I woke with dust in my lungs,
A name that the walls forgot.
I coughed it up, but nothing came,
Nothing ever comes.
Nothing ever stays.

There is a hole in my chest where the light used to live,
Someone must have stolen it in my sleep.
I hope they wear it, I hope they shine,
I do not. I do not.

My tongue tastes of sand,
Of turmeric and gold,
But I am lost in the sky,
The indigo blue, the final hue.

The sun lets me down,
The meadow’s far,
I’m floating now,
I won’t shine, but you will rise.

The Twelve Sisters

I kissed a knife once, carved from forgotten skies,
A moonless night where the truth never lies.
It tasted of blood, of whispers undone,
Like the last kiss of dawn before it was gone.
The blade held the tales of twelve who had wept,
I kissed it in silence, where shadows had slept.

I drink the Milky Way, but it drips from my hands,
Like honey on silk in a castle of sand.
I kiss in cinnamon, but it’s made of broken time,
Like sweet fire smoldering, dipped in rhyme.
Soft as a sigh, yet sharp as a knife,
My lips taste of sugar, my heart tastes of strife.

It wasn’t Calliope who spoke to me then,
But Eris, her chaos woven in sin.
She spun the heavens with her brittle smile,
And with every kiss, I tasted exile.
Her hands were the storms that tore worlds apart,
“Sin, she whispered, is the price of the heart.”

I hold in oud strings, twisted in laughter,
Each note a tear from a ghost’s hereafter.
It wraps around my fingers like a lover’s plea,
A perfume of sorrow, a symphony of glee.
I pull you close, but you’ll burn in the scent,
For I hold in oud, but the darkness is spent.

The blade bled in riddles, the blood a song,
It carried my sins where the gods don’t belong.
Her eyes were a maze, sharp as a knife,
I kissed the blade, and abandoned my life.
For love was a shadow, and Eris, my guide,
In her world, I drowned, in her madness, I died.

The Muses laugh in tongues of twisted lore,
They whisper in puzzles I can’t ignore.
I kissed the sky once, but it tasted like clouds,
Now I kiss with cinnamon, a yearning gone too fast.
Soft as the night, but brittle as glass,
I wear my wounds like they’re made of brass.

Clio holds time in the palm of her hand,
While Melpomene sings of a broken land.
Thalia weeps with laughter in the rain,
And Polyhymnia’s silence drives me insane.
I kiss the sky, but it crumbles like sand,
The twelve sisters wait, like shadows unplanned.

I pray to the light, but it’s filled with perfume,
I dance with the shadows in an eternal room.
The stars are all soggy, like bread soaked in tea,
I drink them with sugar, and whisper to me.
I kiss with cinnamon, a sweetness undone,
And hold in oud, as the darkness runs.

I cried for my enemies, but they never knew,
That I loved them in silence, while I choked on the blue.
My heart is a flower with petals of flame,
I dance in the chaos, but never the same.
For softness is poison and darkness a charm,
And cinnamon kisses are the sweetest harm.

So come closer, my dear, feel the heat of my hands,
The Oud will consume you, like forgotten lands.
I am the storm wrapped in velvet and lace,
I kiss in cinnamon, and leave no trace.

Denuded in Soho

I wear a coat of broken clocks,
The hands were the ones who tried to mock.
They called me ''goddess'', but I was just clay,
A soul scraped clean, washed away.
I drank the air in silence, thick as knives,
While they carved my name into forgotten lives.

They tied me to a chair of glass and steel,
Told me I was nothing, made me kneel.
My bones were paper, they folded me tight,
Bending in the dark, craving the light.
I was the breath they couldn’t catch,
A pulse they couldn’t match.

They spoke in tongues of shattered wine,
Said I was a conundrum, but I couldn’t find the sign.
They wrapped me in wire, called me a doll,
I wasn’t a ''goddess''; I was their fall.
They bruised my mouth, but tasted ash,
Left me with nothing but their laughter’s crash.

They spun me in circles, but I couldn’t dance,
For I was the fracture in their advance.
They saw me as fire, but I was just smoke,
Choking on whispers, under their cloak.
They chewed me down like I was a dream,
But I wasn’t a ''goddess'', just a scream.

My eyes were holes where they threw their stones,
Each one a promise wrapped in their groans.
I was the field they poisoned with blame,
A ghost they tortured, playing the game.
My hands were threads they snapped with glee,
But they never saw the wreckage of me.

I kissed the blade that carved my skin,
Hoping it would free me from within.
But it bled in riddles, a twisted song,
And I wore the wounds where I didn’t belong.
They painted my silence with colors too dark,
Leaving me to decay in the mark.

Now I walk in shadows made of bones,
A ''goddess'' forgotten, with no home.
They tried to break me with their hands of flame,
But I am the wreckage, and I have no name.
I was the dream they never cared to save,
A ''goddess'' mistreated, too broken to crave.

I ran through Soho, half-naked, half-wild,
A hollow echo of what they’d defiled.
The neon lights bled into the rain,
A city of ghosts, a chorus of pain.
I could taste their fingers in the air,
Could hear the hunger of eyes too aware.

The streets, they called me with hollowed cries,
As I stumbled, my heart lost in their lies.
A ''goddess'' lost in a city of thieves,
Drenched in the silence that no one believes.
I was a shadow, fleeing from their hands,
A ''goddess'' undone, slipping through the sands.

Now I am nothing but a whisper in the night,
A forgotten song, a half-burnt light.
The world moves on, but I cannot go,
For I am the wreckage, trapped in Soho.