family portrait.Your family tree simply grew this way.family portrait. by littleblueraccoon
Your mother’s tongue cut throats as well as stone walls, but it never reached your skin. You considered this a blessing, failing to account for the million praises you never heard. Since the moment you were born, she struggled to separate your face from her morning coffee. She lived in a slow blur and you were an alert inconvenience. Nearly every morning she faded through the kitchen and living room, reciting old sorrows to herself while you wondered what you had done to confuse her.
Sometimes she remembered to kiss you goodnight. Other times she pretended you didn’t exist when you cried for her. Soon enough you realized that it was better to stay quiet because then it hurt less when she didn’t speak.
You were too young to understand, crouched on the sofa with an innocent moon of a face. How could you have known?
One day when you had been left alone in the house, as you often were, you amused yourself by digging through your fami
old love.there was a time whenold love. by littleblueraccoon
the slightest hint of our fingers brushing
would set my soul to tremors,
and I would want to blend our minds and bodies
together like two warming stones
you would ask me to kiss you
and I wouldn't answer,
just enfold your collar to my handprint
and drag you lip-first
to leave trails of honey in my mouth
and sweet stains of kind bruises
in a heart march down my neck.
we were story book boy-meets-girl
just learning how to steam up a window
and figuring out what it meant
to put someone else before yourself,
and it lasted long cherry-coated months
until that night you saw me cry.
I poured pain against your shoulder
and you held me until I could breathe again.
you became so tired that
you put your head across my lap
and let me stare into your eyes,
and maybe it was the hour's late echo
but in that moment I knew every reason
why I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.
suddenly we weren't
cherub paintings on some
things I never told you.some poems feel like water.things I never told you. by littleblueraccoon
this one is more like sand,
and I'm suffocating in the maw
of a desert that was better left
rusting its clairvoyance.
it started one night when I remembered
that I've kept everything you've ever given me:
roses, faces, promises.
I never really understood
how to let things go,
and when the thought of
turning the things you'd touched
away from my doorstep
choked the poetry from my throat,
I realized why.
I keep reminding myself that
I should probably be nicer to you,
but I think you already know
that I'm only capable of being nice
when I'm cornered and out of ideas.
and despite what you claim,
you've never been like me.
you have a magic with the world
that I could never hope to understand, and
I think someday you'll charm the devil
into sending you back to the skies.
besides, when it came to you,
I was never an exception.
I named myself a blade of grass
and bit my tongue,
but like they say,
sometimes trouble can find you
when you least expect it.
A Robot Love Poem01001001A Robot Love Poem by littleblueraccoon
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