Sunlight.

Sunlight, it

Shines bright in my eyes,

Paints me in bronze,

Gifts me with

Glistening, golden, effervescent eyelashes and

Fluttering, autumn, amber eyelids and now

Everything I see is hazy and psychedelic as the –

 

Sunlight, it

Washes over me and

Pseudo-solves all of

My woes

Now, I am nothing but an ethereal extension

Of the brilliant, luminous ball of flame

That gleams with the promise

My woes

Won’t come back when the –

 

Sunlight, it

Smothers me with sprawling warmth

That catches on my breathe and

Settles in my pores and

Coats my core and

Drips off my limbs

As I turn every surface of me towards the –

 

Sunlight, it

Shatters, as the rays reach me and splinter

Into the thinnest whispers of copper threads

That I see everywhere I look and

I see even with my eyes closed as they

Find and fill every crevice around

As the sounds

Hush

And the movements

Still

And nothing in the world exists

Except

This single split second in time and the –

Sunlight.

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

It goes and it’s golden like sands of time. -Golden, Zayn

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Silk.

We stole

A day.

To make everything

Okay

Again.

 

Plans out the window and

I can’t control my thoughts,

Foot on the pedal and

My nerves are doused in rain.

 

Just this once,

There’s no need for

The endless chain of

Busses and trains.

Just this once,

My car

Will transport

My body and

My baggage

(And my heart

Is already,

Always,

Wherever you are.)

 

Now I’m on

My way

To you.

 

I tried

Not to

But I

Scripted

Myself

A vision

Of how this would go.

I was so sure

I had lost you.

 

I know you told me

You’re back

I know you told me

You aren’t out

I know you told me

This is it and

The reason is me.

 

I know everything you’ve said

And everything you say.

It’s just that

You can’t possibly fathom

How hard it is

For me to believe

You feel the way

You say you do.

 

And I don’t know why that is.

 

But you should know

I left

The words I sketched

Outside, in the parked

Locked

Car.

 

This is a relationship

On steroids.

You move so quickly

I can’t always keep up.

Sometimes I forget

What it was like

Before

I had you.

 

But I never forget you existed

And lived and loved

Before I knew you

Existed, lived and loved.

 

That night,

I made you promise

That we would stay up

Until

We felt close again

Like before.

 

But –

That night,

After hours

Of staring into your eyes,

Silk laced thoughts

Tracing our silhouettes,

There were other

Promises

On my mind.

 

We stole

A day.

And made everything

Okay

Again.

 

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

We had time against us, miles between us, the heavens cried, I know I left you speechless. But now the sky has cleared and it’s blue and I see my future in you. -I’ll Be Waiting, Adele

Velvet.

We stole

An hour.

To say hello,

Again.

 

We stole

A piece of time

And made it our own.

Amid the trains

And the busses

And the shops

And the people,

We stole

Glances.

We smiled,

Eyes crinkling

Hearts beating

Cheeks seizing

Absorbing

How it feels

To be together. (Again).

 

We traipsed and traipsed

Over the same

Ground and ground,

Lifting all our baggage and carrying it around,

Piling it up in corners as we sat

So we could get

Close.

Closer.

 

We stole

Back

Fragments of

Thoughts and

Feelings

Swept

Around constantly

By distance

And (my) doubt.

We took

Our (sliver of) time

And put everything back together. (Again.)

 

We stole

A cuddle on a bench, a kiss in an elevator, a picture in a reflection. Embraces by the trains and the busses and the shops and the people.  

 

I trembled, like I always do

When I finally get to see him.

I rested my head

On his chest, beneath his chin.

A vision of velvet emotions.

I leaned my body into his,

Lined my heart up with his,

Let myself be wrapped up in his,

Love.

I let my erratic pulse sing with the silence,

And my incessant thoughts rhyme with the quiet,

And my tireless unsettled movement tango with the grounded hush,

Because all I really wanted

Was time.

 

We walked by all the people and we walked by all the shops, and he got on his train and I got on my bus.

 

We stole

An hour,

And said goodbye

Again.

 

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

I wanna feel what love is, I know you can show me. I’m gonna take a little time, a little time to look around me, I’ve got nowhere left to hide, It looks like love has finally found me. -I Wanna Know What Love Is, Foreigner

 

Waves.

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Fireflies, fairy dust, flowing sparks and floating stars, flickering in the air, falling light moats around us when we’re together.

We curled closer.

Peachy lights casting enchanted glow and cold night air I don’t feel when I’m with him.

Heart all aflutter when I realize how he feels about me.

Comfortable quiet of the hushed world beyond and the harmony of our emotions trembling in sound waves between us.

The way he looks at me… “And how’s that?” Like you love me. “I do.”

If you thought my heart was beating quickly before…

The way he makes me feel when he says my name, the way my heart melts at the sound of his softest voice, the way he makes the air crackle with electricity when he’s near me (the boy brings the sun to its knees every night*).

The way he makes me miss him.

The way I almost want to resent him for making me miss him so much (but he says I do the same to him and it’s not fair).

The way it dawns on me every time that as tired as I am of waiting for him, he’s beyond worth it.

The way I discover over and over that he is everything I’ve been looking for (he is my wildest dreams).

The way I’m simultaneously euphoric and petrified when I realize my heart isn’t just my own anymore – it’s also his.

We curled further into each other.

The way I always have and always will forget to take things one day at a time.

The way I simply wouldn’t change a thing…

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. -Franki Valli

* “I know I should crumble for better reasons
but have you seen that boy he brings
the sun to its knees every night.” – Milk and Honey, Rupi Kaur

21.

Part 1

Finally. Sweetheart, darling, sunshine, honey. I, miss, you, dearly. Far, apart, distance, expanse, away, shake, mama, shake, your, head, come, home. (21)

Tiny, dancer, I, love, the, peace, in, the, backseat, wish, I, was, there, direct, you, into, my, arms… I, love, you. (21)

Tom. (1 because you should know)

Part 2

Break, down. Missing, him, him, missing, me, so, much, happening, alone, confusing, questions, doubts, taken, aback, is, this, right? Missing, him. (21)

Always, waiting. Always, waiting, for, a, call, always, waiting, for, a, text. Him. Always, waiting, for, him, always, waiting, for, him. (21)

Confusing. (1 because it’s true)

Part 3

Trembling, in, your, arms, overcome, emotion, real, real, real, “You’re, not, a, burden, honey, you’re, a, blessing”, embracing, me, at, last. (21)

Warm, cozy, comforting, glowing, whisper, soft, tender, new, close, closer, illuminated, attentive, quiet, melting, fuzzy, admiring, dazzling, serenity, hushed, golden. (21)

Happy. (1 for good luck)

Part 4

Good, morning, Sunshine, snuggle, me, don’t, leave, and, then, and, then, and, then, his, life, was, almost, almost, and, I, can’t. (21)

I, can’t, believe, I, can’t, breathe, how, close, I, was, to, losing, him, please, fear, don’t, panic, leave, so, me, afraid. (21)

He’s, I’m, we’ll, be, okay, okay, okay, surreal, real, not, everyone, was, lucky, hold, me, we, are, gratitude, okay, unsettled, alive. (21)

Alive. (1 to remind myself we are)

21 days.

And. (1 to write this)

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

I believe in miracles. -You Sexy Thing, Hot Chocolate

Run For Me?

Oh, what I would give to run again.

I wonder, had I realized then

(Then, as a younger person)

That I would one day not be able to run…

Would I have done it differently?

Would I have gone quicker, longer, farther, harder, freer?

Do you go quicker, longer, farther, harder, freer?

Because I go slowly. I ache as I walk. If I were to run, I would cry as I ran. Can you run for me? Can you satisfy this burning dullness in the pit of my inner athlete by running for me?

I can’t run. Sometimes it feels like I can’t live. Sometimes I need to write this down in the middle of the night because all I want to do is run. Sometimes all I want is for someone to figure out the truth of why I can’t run and to fix me. Cure me. Save me.

Someone. Do it. I can’t run until you do. Can you take extra footsteps for me? Extra footfalls, heavy breaths, aching ribs, rippling muscles, sweaty palms, frizzy hair. Make up for my lack.

I’ll watch you run. I’ll sit here in a chair and track you with my eyes as you run by me, around me in circles, on top of me, because I can’t run for myself and I’m nothing to you. Nothing. Just a nothing who can’t run.

Make me run.

Ella.

Song quote:

Run until you feel your lungs bleeding. -Run, Hozier

 

Excavations

Copyright sickandsickofit.wordpress.com

The excavation site

Hidden beneath a pile of other important things in my drawer, lies a folder that is full to the bursting with slips of paper. Every page has some words, written at some point in my life, and when I open that folder, I travel back in time.

It’s amazing really, how I’m instantly transported to how I was feeling, where I was, and what I was doing when I wrote something down. There have been many days in my young life, but the ones that I remember the most are the ones when I had a sudden urge to write- and I took myself up on it.

Sporadically in life, pretty much from age six, I would get bouts of motivation, generally in the direction of: “I’m gonna be a writer!!! I’m gonna get published! I’m going to be in The New York Times!” During one such bout, when I was around twelve years old, I sat cross legged on my bed, and wrote something on a piece of ripped notebook paper. It was my old bedspread, the highly colorful one, and I was staring at the mirror that was glued on the back of my door (before it fell, and broke).

This is what I wrote:

   I wish my mirror were my life. When I look in my mirror, I see what I am meant to be. I see myself with a fancy hair do, all dressed up at my very own book signing. I want to be famous for my writing.

  I look in the mirror, but I don’t look the way I really do. I look like a writer, posing for a picture while she writes her next bestseller.

  My mirror is the only one that knows; knows what my life should look like.

To be honest, there are pieces written in bouts of motivation from when I was much younger than 12, but they’re slightly embarrassing, so my drawer is their permanent residence.

Besides the motivated snippets, the folder is mostly full of products of hard times. It’s sad to think sometimes that most of my poems are ones of great depression, sadness, guilt and discontent. At the same time, that’s what I use my writing for: it’s a place I can turn to when it feels like nothing else is right. To quote the great Oscar Wilde,  “Words! Mere words!… what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of flute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?”

Fast-forwarding a year, I sat after quite a horrible day and wrote this (and I’m making sure not to edit myself, even though I really want to):

Why is the world such a hard place to be?

Why can’t I just spread my wings and be free?

Be heard, be known, for the things I can do,

Let it be known, that I will make it through.

 

I don’t want to think that no one will hear it,

If I fail, I won’t admit it.

I just want a chance to be heard,

Help create a better world.

 

I don’t think that’s taking it too far,

If I just keep trying,

It can’t be too hard,

I will keep reaching for the stars.

 

But it all comes back too:

 

Why is the world such a hard place to be?

Why can’t I just spread my wings and be free?

Be heard, be known, for the things I can create,

If only there wasn’t so much at stake.

 

My hopes my dreams, my innocent will,

To help the world with the best of my skills.

I can write the poem, that comes to terms with the world,

With just that single world that will be heard:

 

Free.

 

But now a tear is tracing its track down my check,

For in writing, it certainly sounds absurd.

 

At least it  has a slightly positive edge to it. Some of these transport me to a really, really bad time. Like this one:

Let’s make the bed,

Fold the dirty clothing,

Pack up our bags,

And hang up the happy drawings.

 

Throw away the tissues,

Return the garbage to its place,

Comb through our hair,

And patch up our face.

 

Strangle all those sobs,

Dry up all those tears,

Leave not one trace of sadness

“I was never here”.

 

There was a lot going on. I had no choice: life kept moving, so I had to as well. I’m worried I might be depressing you all, but I know that I also worry too much (there’s a poem about it). I’ll only share one more with you. I wrote this just last year, when I was worrying about something:

Borders are

As borders go

Separating,

Existing.

 

Some borders are paper thin, hazy, fragile,

But hold within them

The power to destruct.

 

These borders are

Long

Thin

Lines.

 

Tread carefully.

 

But the border, the line, that

Scares me most,

Is the one I balance on when I act

By the sheer power of feeling

Empathy, love, worry.

 

Then I walk the border of

Making

Things

Worse.

A single toe out of line, and that power to destruct

Is free.

 

And on that supremely uplifting note, I will now stop the barrage of sadness, and share some facts of happiness:

  1. I now have a place to write regularly, and it’s full of positivity! I have self-discipline, and write regularly, and you are all lovely people, and leave me uplifting comments. I now can write of happiness, and not just sadness.
  2. I have a much better support system in place than I used to. My family is as great as they always have been, but I now also have a bunch of friends that really care about me.
  3. I have matured since I was 12, and though I still write poems of depression in epic proportions, I also hold on to some perspective. I have a good life, even with Fibromyalgia.
  4. My math test is over! I don’t know if you feel the same way I do, but in my book, this is definitely a fact of happiness. I was stressing out about it so much, but it went really well, so now I believe all my hard work was worth it and I am happy. Next one in three weeks.

 

I hope I have now lifted your spirits after having lowered them. Otherwise, I would feel guilty. There’s a poem about it.

Wishing you all a wonderful day and happy reading,

Yours truly,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

Welcome to the inner workings of my mind. –Hurricane, Ms Mr

 

IMG_2175

While giving my drawer a photo-shoot, I realized I was photographing one of my most prized possessions: my Song Quotes notebook. It is a beautiful little thing….

 

IMG_2174

A hundred points to anyone who can leave a comment below stating which books are on my shelf… (hint: there are fifteen in the picture). Let the games begin!