Janvier

11 min read

Deviation Actions

comatose-comet's avatar
Published:
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Quote:
[...] but existence is believing / we know for whom we mourn and who is grieving.
W H Auden, In Memory of Ernst Toller

Personal:
I'm back living in the UK now and missing Paris dreadfully. 2016 was a cruel year, and decided to play one last trick on me before it finally took its leave - my mother took a fall after Christmas and is on two months total bed-rest with three breaks in her ankle. I have found myself on bed-rest alongside her, not physically but mentally. Things tick over, as they have to with me as her sole carer, but apart from my typing job and recent devouring of 3 books I haven't done much of anything creative. I may find some scraps from 2016 that I haven't posted here yet, but I'm hoping getting active here again may spur me into action and wake me up from this hivernal hibernation.

So send any recommendations my way and anything I may have missed in my absence! I love you all and I hope your 2017's are treating you kindly~

P.S LadyBitterblue I received your letter forwarded on by my Parisian neighbour and I will reply to it as soon as! You, dearheart, are a treasure.

P.P.S Suga Surprised Icon  Tanaka Surprised Icon Gone from Homestuck trash to Haikyuu trash. Sorrynotsorry. 

Absolute Favourites of 2016: 
The Month of OctoberHugh Everett's ashes are in the dumpster behind the restaurant I work at. I know because they start moving on Monday. By Tuesday, there is a writhing charred leg and parts of his open torso. Wednesday, he speaks to me for the first time.
"What year is it?"
"I think you might implode if you knew."
"Makes sense. Do you smoke, doll?" 
I light a cigarette for him, having pulled it with quivering fingers from my apron, and put it in his mouth. He leans up against a garbage bag leaking shake mix and puffs, exhaling clouds. 
"This is weak. Lady cigarettes."
He rips off the filter with his teeth. He only has three fingers on his left hand and his right arm is a stump. At least his eyes have grown in. 
"Do you know why I left academic physics?"
"To make models for the Pentagon?"
"Precisely."
He takes a long drag.
"A model, you see, is a representation of an ideal, a situation that can only occur exactly that way within a given set of circumstances. In reality, we can only create
<da:thumb id="593566310"/> Houses by the SeaI remember when you kissed my hand
Like softly pouring rain
There's not a single fracture in my soul
That dared to stay the same
I still feel your fingers laced in mine
Trying not to change the past
And this everything you left with me
Is endless. It is vast.
My head is filled with could-have-beens
And houses by the sea
While Gods of grey remind me
That we do not love for free
I will never touch your hand again
We are finite, laced with pain
But on nights when whispers haunt me
I'll pretend you're in the rain
I'll pretend you paint the sunsets
And the shapes inside the clouds
I'll pretend that I'd have no regrets
If I'd dared to love out loud
<da:thumb id="600712118"/> to walk through gloamingthis is the treasure we seek:
wings out of tune with the world
& names to be swallowed like berries,
dark forest stains on the fingers.
oh to have forest stains on these fingers
this is the treasure we hold:
the forest has always been here.
~
and here, i was a weary wanderer
and my fire held no magic, we were no wild things, we watched
as the silence picked up our broken pieces to examine
our weakness, as we could not break it in return,
wisdom in vain.


in whispers,
i run back and take
all that is left and i believe in the magic
that always warmed my skin

now, i keep a jar of ashes.
and here, let me place it
gently next to your pillow, a touch and a whisper,
a gift for good dreams. i still remember
the should have been beauty and the beauty that was.
and now, sometimes,
i am a robin.
(as wild as the city lets anything be,
not fearing fences, not finding the open sky
but baptised by the moon between pines.)
i think icarus had ptsd//you would too if you’d spent your life dreaming of flight and then you took a fall too hard and too long and felt the candlewax melting down your body and the feathers peeling off your wings and the scorch marks and bruises on your skin and if your last few minutes were a blur, if you’d spent a life leading up to this moment and you took a step ahead and crossed the line and then had to fall like bruised knees and five year olds scaling these walls
((forever out of reach. out of mind.))
to feel the wind curled around you, to taste escape, to feel release on your skin and to see the world as a whole, not filtered through jailcell bars
((you’d always wanted out))
as a child you watch your father beaten bruised bleeding, protecting you at the cost of himself. he weaves you wings and tells you not to fly too close to the sun, boy, the sun will scorch you
you would, if all you’d heard was violence and whispers and looks, everyone wanted to break you, a childhood of s
ui love u
things wo_ldn't
be the same if yo_
weren't in my world
or in my life
i'm feeling like
alphabet so_p,
spilling all my words
o_t and it'll burn in yo_r
lap and _nder yo_r shirt
beca_se it's too goddamn
honest
i can't hide my feelings;
i can't imagine missing
one letter and having only
twenty five to try to fill in
the gaps
none of them are the same
as yo_, i don't give a f_ck what
yo_ say
i f_cking love yo_
whether they like it
or not
OolongSomehow, we survived
summer's sadness
huddled in our fortress
until the ceasefire
of hardships dealt
and harsh words spoken.
 
Autumn is coming,
and hope,
blown in on the wind,
soothes our knotted throats
like the first sip
of spicy oolong.
 
We are
mending
with the seasons,
clinging to each other
with love devoid of fear
and opening
to become our boldest selves.
your body isn't a means to attain forgivenessit doesn’t have to be perfect;
it doesn’t have to be neat,
tied up, origami
in a soft little bow my body
is not a gift
for()giving.
my body is a home
that I don’t mind sharing,
it is a well worn bed
it squeaks, rusted springs
but it welcomes you home, I
welcome you home.
I don’t know how many flaws I have
but science tells me that if I stretched them
end to end,
they could wrap three times around
the immensity of the apology you say
with your flesh.
your skin doesn’t need to say sorry
for covering the stardust inside,
you don’t have to apologise
for taking up space
when you and space are made of the same things–
you are beautiful.
you don’t have to be perfect.
you don’t have to be neat
with a soft little bow.
you have the expanse of the universe
inside you,
you are a gift of your own,
not for giving
but fully forgiven.
I am always, always
here to welcome you home.
an hour after losingwhen i walk into the bathroom, with dawn
breaking her fingers to squeeze her hands through the windows
at the end of the hall, i am surprised to see a girl at the corner sink.
i expected to be alone to wipe at my face, to press gentle fingers
against the tender skin of my neck, to pull up my shirt
and check the visibility of my ribs
and the flutter of my heart, to stare at my eyes in the shitty mirror
in the shitty lighting and calculate all the little changes that a boy’s hands
can wreak on a body in under an hour. but she
is there at the corner sink, scrubbing at her red and irritated cheeks
like she is lady macbeth trying to erase the ghost of a touch
that never left a physical mark. i have makeup and sweat sticking
to my skin and knots in my hair desperate fingers left behind
and i’m not sure my shirt is my shirt and i just want
to be alone to examine the damages and count the casualties
of a war whose victor i could not point to,
and really, the only reason i walked in


© 2017 - 2024 comatose-comet
Comments14
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LadyBitterblue's avatar
oh dear. I hope your mother is better soon :rose: don't let life get too bleak around you! I hope you remember that there are always flowers and daydreams and warm words when you need them. what were those books you devoured?

(and I'm so glad the letter got to you. I had actually meant to message you about that when I got your card two weeks ago. (but I managed to fall over my own feet and hit my head in such a brilliantly clumsy way that I got a mild concussion as prize) thank you for that, by the way. :heart: I love the fox with his little hat and scarf. you're a darling! I'm wishing you all the best for this year, too)