There was a certain sense of honeyed intimacy upon the comfortable flush of the poetry read on a slow morning, the kind that allowed you to recklessly drown in the idea of resolute romanticism, of the accidental curiosities that chisel away at our minds, and all of the reveries that fill our lungs, that enamours us in the will to unravel, in the familiarity of accustomed indulgence. There was a revelation that came with misspoken word, a conversation that decayed upon the fortuity of supposition, for the whispers grew faint and the ink bled deeper.
“Amidst the blush of literature, there is the true perspective of realism, of all that we experience. I wanted to captivate the limitless expedition that is my creative domain. I wanted to write a collection that would allow me to grow, to understand who I am as a writer, as well as to fulfill the longings to write about all that I fear, all that excites me, and all that has inspired my will to do more with my words.”
R E T I C E N C E
Tight-lipped as she was, resisting the bitter entanglement of desperation
The humble rehearsed silence, wandering her mind
A quiescent redemption,
The relief of worn vulnerability
Flickered upon her pale skin
As she was met with the stillness of a cold sunrise.
She came undone, in a world she had imagined
She felt alive when she let her dismembered thoughts consume her
And yet, she’d lost the will to dream.
The words that sat at the back of her throat remained unsaid,
How strange it had been for her to believe in the very artifice
That had shred her prerogative.
She waited beneath clean sheets and nameless nightmares for the risk to ensue
For all she wanted, was to feel.
All she wanted,
was a tethered awakening to set her free.
This collection is available on Wattpad.com here:
I do hope that you’ve enjoyed!