while you were sleeping


there are walls of paper moons

buried between us where

i would write poetry

upon your headstone

 

haunted by statues

of graveyard angels

burning in starlight

 

but

 

before i could hold your hand

like the quiet whispering

of trees and their leaves 

that linger upon my ears

 

hesitating on whether to echo

or stay just as a whisper

on a winter evening

 

i could only conjure us

dancing on parchment

with mere words

dangling

from our lips

 

and as i breathe,

you fade in

and out

 

like a phantom singing

the chorus of an

almost love song,

playing the piano

off-key

like the beating of my heart

where your name resides

 

i would fashion a funeral

for your silhouette

which i only see in dreams,

complete with flowers

and candles, a passion

of two lost souls, complete

strangers

 

but 

 

almost lovers

 

and as i breathe,

you fade in

and out

 

in and out,

you fade into

a a ghost of a memory,

fleeting and intimate

 

but

 

the innocent touch

of a guilty kiss

plummets so much further

like a lie, hidden from view

at the back of my mind

 

and as i breathe,

you fade in

and out

 

temperamental

like the paper moon

buried between us

 

dying like a torn page

from your notebook

 

forgotten in a corner

like the dead roses

that wither

 

like the graveyard angels

drowning in starlight,

i am drunk knowing

you're only a dream

 

a delusion, a secret

i tell the shadows

while you were sleeping



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I blogged at 2:40 PM.

i n d i g o


1

i only kiss her when she’s sleeping

fearing conversation

caressing her cheeks

from dried-up tears

i just want her to breathe me in

remember me in her dreams

because she’s broken

and i’m stationary

my finger is frozen

on her indigo lips

with my cigarette

forming double infinity

bruises upon her hips

Labels:




I blogged at 8:24 AM.

regret in soprano


december still feels like rain

on the pavement

making headlines

a deer caught in headlights

a car wreck in ash and bone

my ribcage

the new jerusalem

jesus in a streetcorner

mo[u]rning

regret in soprano

screaming my name in a botticelli song

grief in a hashtag

teardrops on my keyboard

stilla mascara all over his shirt

while i genuflect in the last pew

praying for you

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I blogged at 5:57 PM.

xxiii
i lost my voice, my ability to speak
metaphors out loud, hanging
with the bile inside my throat
i spit poetry like skyscrapers in china
the way i almost lost you
i wonder why we busy ourselves
with routine, without prayer
when most of the time
religion is a catchphrase
to attain freedom
like birds in cages
singing their ave maria’s in the dark
words bursting at the seams
not quite an eclipse
be quiet, be still
as the lady on the moon
laments outside our windowsills
the color yellow
reminds me of the time
you vomited sunlight
on stationery paper
piled the debris of your heart
in these little asphyxiations
like a noose around your neck
made up of rose petals
and silent conversations
lit by candles-
hot wax
on our fingers
until i
turn into a ghost
and fade

…into you

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I blogged at 5:47 PM.



The Blogger.

name : tiara ruiz fernandez
nickname : aya
a.k.a. : aya scribbles
thursdays and rain
orange footprints
kitkat nerd 007
age : 33 yrs old
bday : may 12
sign : taurus
location : new jersey, usa
ethnicity: filipino

The Links.

[1] rants
[2] more scribbles
[3] soundcloud

The Chat Box.


Archives.

December 2018 March 2019 May 2020 December 2020 January 2021 August 2022

Credits.

Skin done by Benson.
Image by Adobe Photoshop and Microsoft Paint.