by hiraeth   Oct 8, 2019

october crackles its’ warmth during
the nights. the streetlights illuminate
their familiar shade of orange, a
disingenuous offer at transparency.
sweaters are donned and mugs
are never empty; october – the
ode to nostalgia.

words strained through the heart
emerge candy-coated. the spinning
of fear into confectioneries is an
art i perfected years ago. to you,
the mistress who cheated death,
i offer this, a temporary
encapsulation of the reality
we never shared.

my forehead pressed against
your collarbone (…i'm home,
i'm finally home), we spoke
of nothing. i knew everything
i needed to from the sound
of you breathing, and you
gathered it from caressing
my hair.

you were always the balm
to my breaking.


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Latest Comments

  • 10 months ago

    by Skyfire

    I'm enjoying reading your work very much. The imagery and word choice in this one particularly resonate with me.

  • 1 year ago

    by Star

    Look what happens when you post your poetry!! Congrats Mark :)

  • 1 year ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Wonderful writing. Well done, Mark.

  • 1 year ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    An ode to nostalgia, indeed! Going to come back a few more times and read this, something so yearning and heartbreaking in remembering here.

  • 1 year ago

    by Rania Moallem

    Thank you Brenda for nominating this piece of Art, I would have wanted the privilege to do so, but at least it's done.

    Your writings are always a fresh breath of air, seriously this poem is just above the ceiling. I can't find words to comment on what you have painted in my head. This is just stunning.

    • 1 year ago

      by hiraeth

      thank you rania <3

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