ephmrlll

[ephmrlll]

I refuse to tell her any of this. So I write it down on my notes app and post in on tumblr like anyone struggling in a homoerotic friendship does!

I wouldn’t call this a love letter. I think whatever I’m about to write is far from it. To write a real love letter, I’d have to love you. I can never love you like that because I respect the boundaries of what should and should not be. So, no. This is not a love letter. The sole purpose of writing this is to let go of every drop of hope I may hold somewhere deep in my heart.

You’re infuriating. You make the most tedious work easy. But you’re so grounded that I don’t end up floating aimlessly. How can you be such a contradiction? You’re funny, responsible, smart, dependable, and even a chef (calling you a cook would be an insult to your food). You don’t have it all, but you balance everything like you do. People find it scary, but I find it admirable. Would you prefer it that I found you scary?

In my personal opinion, you’re quite kind. Actually, you’re really kind. I wish it weren’t as overlooked. You empathize even when you say you don’t. I think it’s healthy to not dwell on shit that should not concern you, though. I don’t think that makes you unkind. You’re kinder than me. The love in your heart is bursting at the seams, and I can see it in everything you do. You’re a good person.

You’re really pretty. Annoyingly so. Gorgeous in any set-up. Femme or masc, it doesn’t matter what you do. I’ve always found you so beautiful, even before I had any sort of feelings. You’re not short in any department. Except for height, that’s the joke.

Is there anything else to say? Yes. Definitely. But, this is enough because there won’t be a next time. Too much is awkward because nothing would come from it. Too few is weird because why bother at all if that was the case? So, I’m settling for this. I hope you’re not curious about my name. This is an embarrassingly horrible letter. If anyone takes credit for it, they’re stupid and they didn’t write this letter.

You deserve the world.

[ephmrlll]

my favorite poetry books (free PDF or epub)

the complete maya angelou

don't call us dead by danez smith

all the flowers kneeling by paul tran

time is a mother by ocean vuong

madness by sam sax

mayakovsky's revolver by matthew dickman

soft science by franny choi

thief in the interior by phillip b williams

ariel by sylvia plath

calling a wolf a wolf by kaveh akbar

together and by ourselves by alex dimitrov

not here by hieu minh nguyen

brute by emily skaja

post colonial love poem by natalie diaz

unaccompanied by javier zamora

prelude to bruise by saeed jones

howl & other poems by allen ginsberg

the big book of exit strategies by jamaal may

look by solmaz sharif

the crown ain't worth much by hanif abdurraqib

eyes bottle dark with a mouthful of flowers by jake skeets

finna by nate marshall

autopsy by donte collins

a place called no homeland by kai cheng thom

lunch poems by frank o'hara

lessons on expulsion by erika l sanchez

the new testament by jericho brown

said the manic to the muse by jeanann verlee

space struck by paige lewis

safe houses i have known by steve healey

the wound is a world by billy-ray belcourt

nature poem by tommy pico

owed by josua bennett

felon by reginald dwayne betts

come on all you ghosts by matthew zapruder

bluets by maggie nelson

life of the poetry by olivia gatwood

perennial by kelly forsythe

contradictions in the design by matthew olzmann

the big smoke by adrian matejka

peluda by melissa lozada-oliva

american sonnets for my past & future assassins by terrance hayes

king me by roger reeves

in a dream you saw a way to survive by clementine von radics

[ephmrlll]

—thoughts;

It was breezy on the balcony that day. And, as usual, they sit. Waiting. Waiting for the thought of her to get away. Unlike the rest of the world, whose thoughts move a mile a second, theirs are still. Stuck. Stuck on one person.

A person whose hair is as dark as the sky they're staring at. A person whose eyes are cliches as they shine as bright as the lights on the construction crane nearby. Blinding. Distracting even. They try to think of anything else, but the tranquility of the night offers no help. They try to read a book; hoping it would create a ripple in the still water. But, alas, everything circles back to her.

They know it is useless to try and revert their thoughts. It's impossible when their mind can only focus on the most precious thing known to mankind. If mankind only consists of them, that is. They stop trying. They thought maybe one day they'd regret not cherishing these thoughts.

At least now, they can still remember everything so vividly. Her voice, her laugh, her awkward smile, and just every little thing she does. The way she scratches her ears when she's nervous. The way her face goes red at the slightest compliment; she was always bad at receiving them. Or how she was in such a mood in the mornings, not showing a single smile til after a cup of coffee.

They should cherish these thoughts. These thoughts won't stay as vivid years from now. As much as these thoughts act like salt to such a fresh wound, thoughts are all they have left. All that is left of her. It hurts to remember. Because, now, all the things about her, are only in their head. No longer are they able to see her bright eyes. No longer are they able to hear her laugh. And no longer are they able to make her red with a flood of compliments. They can no longer cherish her. Not in the way they want to cherish her. Not in the way she was supposed to be cherished.

At this thought, a tear finally escapes their eyes. It was clear. Only thoughts can remain. And one day, they too would fade.

— ikay, 2022

[ephmrlll]

「Of course I love you.」

「it is my fault that you have not known it all the while. 」

—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

short stories

¤ angst

¤ fluff

¤ ???