Nicola Cayless.
Looking for light in words.

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You know, there are things
I want to be able to write. 

Like falling in love.
Like dying and breathing.
Like knowing what it would have been like
if I had never met you.

And how different I would be,
for being okay, for standing upright
as a girl, for knowing how to breathe
without remembering you have tasted me.

And I can’t.

And this is a shitty poem
that is the closest I will ever come
to writing about you.

Because it will never not have happened,
and I will keep on keeping on.

I don’t know what to call this but loneliness.

I am trying to capture your hands.
I’ll take softened clay in my palms
and press them to yours, take away
the wrinkles like a key
that might unlock secret treasure chests
by the sea.

And it’s as if you’re flowers
falling to the ground, and I am spring
just around the corner,
when you will grow again
and learn to walk
on your own.

What do you need with the wind,
when you’ve got laughter in your heart,
and a smile that lights the kindling
and sets aflame the world?

I’m swallowing words like they’re painkillers, and yet there’s still an ache lodged deep within me that I cannot quite excavate.

Awkward slam face~~

and you
are what they call
summer nights

when the afternoon
sweats away
and we are only left

with the heavy echo
of heat and a sleepy
disappearing sun

Están moviéndose lentamente, escuchando el pulso del mundo.

And well dance like cancer survivors - like we’re grateful simply to be alive.

I fall in love with things more easily in the rain.
Things that could destroy me.
Cigarettes. Red-lipped girls. Champagne. Disappearing.
It’s just something about the way the world looks when the sky gives up.
We’re disintegrating.

Your redwinelips left smudges I’m still finding, months later.

Anonymous :  Who are the authors that inspired you the most in your style of writing

Hmmm. This is difficult. TS Eliot. ee cummings. They both taught me what is great about poetry. Michael Ondaatje, for what is vulnerable. Gregory Sherl and Richard Siken, for being brave and bare. Anne Carson, for being intelligent and humble. Sylvia Plath, for being a true technician. Ted Hughes, for being clever yet honest. Thomas Hardy, for grieving. Dan Stephensen, for being different and beautiful.