the sun rises too early in midsummer. the romance of shared whisper under quilted stars is lost in the cold light of harsh day. and yet whispers still are shared, with shining transparency, glowing in sunlight as if they were made of thin stained glass.
the whispers of a desperate girl who loves too much, or feels nothing at all (she hasn't yet decided). a girl with champagne in her bloodstream and bubbles in her head, and maybe more poetry than sense. forged in the sea, crafted in crashing waves and the pull of the current and the loss of control. she cries out for affection, for unadulterated understanding, for care without judgement. but the words are transformed by the water, and so her whispers are lost in the tides.
the whispers of a vulnerable boy, not sure if he is icarus or the sun itself. all he knows is that he burns, glowing in the sky like a million lightning bugs. he shines so bright as he waits to fall in a mess of flame and music. his pleas are met with the disappointment of an envious moon, and so his whispers are lost in the sky.
the whispers of a scared girl with purple tinged knuckles. too used to people turning away to stop them. she holds the stars in her eyes, white hot and dangerous. the girl fights fiercely and loves deeply as her bleeding heart screams for someone, anyone to fight as hard as she will. but she is too hot to cradle and her whispers are lost to the flames.
the whispers of a lost boy, accustomed to solitude. the darkness comes so naturally that the sun outside feels like a menacing stranger. it's easier to be alone than to feel, to care, to love and so he places the last brick in his temple. in here he can finally be free of feeling too much and having too many expectations on his shoulders, and his whispers can be lost to the dirt.
and the whispers of a girl spun in starlight, with all the soft radiance of of a dying sun. the star you have to stare at the sky to see, constructed in spidersilk. she's translucent and unbreakable, her gossamer web twisting to create elaborate designs only those who care to look close enough can witness. she is all the beauty the universe could hope to create, but her words are too quiet to discern. and so, her whispers are lost to the silence.
the sun rises too early in midsummer. too bright, too hot, shedding too much light on the whispers of the night time. the truth hangs elegantly at dawn, hiding in morning dew drops and the gentle fog. spun glass, easy to shatter. and yet, they whisper.
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i hate this!!!! but it's what ur getting bc i haven't posted in months woo hoo!!!!! every person in this is real so i hope none of them ever find this and read it that would hella suck!!!! i hope ur all happy and healthy and had a good christmas. it's a hard time of year for a lot of people, so if you're struggling just know you that you are loved, you are important, you are valid and you can always reach out to me if you need to vent, no matter how close you think we are.
i love all of you more than words can say
let's hope the roaring 20s bring us all the love we deserve.
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midnight mumbles • poetry
Poetry𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 i share poetry and poeticisms about the things that mean the world and nothing at all
