ikarust

[ikarust]

23:44. the night air smells like rain, and we’re both drunk when we walk out of the theatre. no alcohol. just the touch of your mouth to mine.

you lean against the wall / back-end alley with me in a black dress / and you step on a smashed glass bottle on the floor. the whites of your eyes glowing in the dark like you’re lit up from the inside. you ask me to dance with you, and we waltz like we’re on stage. hand in cold hand.

i don’t know what you want. i see red. i see the light at the end of the tunnel. you’re out of adderall and i need my anti-psychotics. the ones i never bought because i don’t want to get medicated.

you tell me i’m pretty like a painting / and i wonder how exactly i can give you the moon. maybe in a fever dream, i’ll build you a stairway all the way to the ISS and then fly you from there.

you once told me you wish you could go wine tasting. you’d knock back a bottle of perfume if it meant you’d feel right again. have you ever been happy? at least you smell good.

maybe this is the fever dream. you’re whispering in my ear that you feel alive right now, and your hands are shaky on my waist. there is thunder, but when i look up at the sky you tell me it’s just my pulse pounding in my head. there is a metallic smell in the air. i think we’re about to get struck by lightning.

i taste blood in my mouth. or maybe it’s just that i’m thirsty. you laugh and tell me we’re going to go watch the stars by the sea.

02:12. you sleep beside me. i wonder what you want. maybe the moon.

[ikarust]

Danez Smith, from "summer, somewhere"

[ikarust]

trésor      /      single star in the sky, twilit night. crack the moon open and     see the opal in the center. translucent   glowing   sun-struck   cosmic jewel.

tesoro   /      rarest pearl in the heart of the sea. slay the guardian beast and     take it as a trophy.   luminescent   sparkling    dawn-dusted    ocean's diamond.

                               you are every first drop of rain of every summer storm       i want to catch you on my tongue. feel the break in the heat, the sweetness of the sky.

      the gold at the underside of every strike of lightning.     you are the most unseen of summertime enigmas   the kind that you only witness if you are    out of your mind*.      you smile at me with the sweetness of shaved ice in a summertime fruit drink      and i melt for you like i am what's at the edge of the glass that touches the sun.

you taste like cold honey when i kiss you      we lay together, and i watch the way you watch my eyes, my reflection in yours like you are in mine       and i think that we could drown like this      off the coast at the deep end where the shallow sea floor gives way and there is just an endless void of high noon blue.   

    will you return to the sky, trésor? will you sink into the sea, tesoro?

make me into a man on a mission. send me into outer space to look for you. lure me into the ocean like a legend. i will follow the sound of you to the end of the world and back       i will weave us into a modern retelling of orpheus and his lover       dig myself into the ground for you, climb into the astral plane for you        anything. my summertime enigma, my cosmic jewel, my ocean's diamond.

my trésor       /       my tesoro

[ikarust]

I hate in books when it’s like enemies to lovers and the person is like “he was so rude to me… gah I wish he wasn’t so stupid hot!!! I hate him!!!” It’s like when someone is mean to me their face instantly becomes ugly and their features haggard and they crumble into stone. Idk what the hell you guys are talking about

[ikarust]

i talk about tearing flesh from an arm with my teeth and you stare at me in horror like you haven't tasted blood before. i talk about being crushed like a small animal on a fast lane and you ask me how it's humanly possible of me to cling to the stone of the sidewalk the way i do. my mother could skin her hands at the sink and it would still not rid her from the truth that is that she has fed me her body and that she is convict to the manslaughter of her child.

quick question: how does one write about their mother without mentioning their mother? mine is a fortune teller. she tells me in the dead of the night while i am on the kitchen floor with the boning knife in one hand and and a towel in the other that i will never be loved right. that i will never find real love. that i will always suffer if i look for it.

mother knows best.

she tells me she destroyed herself for me and that i am selfish and cruel for not destroying myself for her. she begs me to be beautiful. she begs me to be the daughter she wanted to have. my friend tells me on the swing on a beautiful springtime evening that i am selfish and cruel for devouring every little piece of every damn thing that has ever tasted like love to me. and when i go home in the evening, my mother looks at me like she did the night she told me she wishes she'd killed me when i was a child. i tell everyone i am starving. my mother tells me she told me so.

i stare at the red in the ball of spit i hawked onto the bathroom floor. i retouch the scars on my thighs. i hack away at my hair with the big crafting scissors. i pray to god that i will wake up tomorrow beautiful and loveable. i wake up the same way. my mother tells me to never come back when i step out to leave for work. i tell her i am trying my best but nothing is working. she tells me she told me so. she tells me she's glad to see me in pain because i deserve it.

maybe i do deserve it.

i visit a clothing store and step into the fitting room just to see the way i am reflected back and forth in the front-and-back mirrors. i look and i see a morbid, mangled ruin the greatest what-could-have-been of all time. and by that i mean, i see a million possibilities in one. all the girls i could have been. and at the very center, where the image gets so small it's blurry and barely visible maybe i am beautiful. maybe i am loveable. maybe i find real love and maybe i don't suffer for it.

maybe i am the daughter my mother wanted.

[ikarust]

so crazy how you can just fall in love with someone and then they show you their favourite song and you were never interested in that particular artist before but once you get to know that this artist is special to them, your opinion on that artist is irrevocably changed forever. so crazy that the way you feel about something can change suddenly just because someone you love has a passion for it.

[ikarust]

i am a rabid animal lurking in the woods, and you are the smoke that pours from the mouth of a rifle. the last remnant of my existence, before i am dead and dragged away / the smell of you. i can be a bleeding wound in the hide of a beast, and you can be the snow that stains red. the colour of something alive when you rip it open. the colour of love.

i am not a good thing / i get on my knees and beg you for things like the devil begs a believer to sin. i wish you would stick a blade in me and carve me up. i wish you would wear claws on your nails and tear me up like i am sand and you are looking for something buried beneath my skin. i wish i could pour your scent into my lungs and survive.

you made me feel something once and i have been searching for it in you ever since. maybe if you get a handgun and gut me with the barrel, i would feel it again. you can stab me and fall back when i say nothing. i’ll clean the scrapes on your skin with brandy and kiss the gauze a blotted sunset-red before i lay it over the wound. if we were stranded on a desert island, i would cut my thigh in two for you to eat.

consume me. destroy me. make me feel something again. i’m running out of ideas.

or maybe i just need to lay my head on your shoulder in a dark place with distant lights throwing delicate shadows over the slants of your face again. maybe i just need soft music, smooth-handed heat and blood in my mouth, and i will know that i am surrendering myself the right way.

be the bullet that shatters my clavicle. be the incense that burns in the realm beyond death. be the grip on my ankles / drag me into the void and tell me nothing’s gonna hurt me while you do it. say it to me. mon cœur qui bat, toi.

[ikarust]

Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"

[ikarust]

[march 2024]

the last time i cut myself out of the life of someone i loved was in 2021. my best friend. the first friend i ever made at school, in first grade, after being a little girl that never spoke a word throughout pre-school (kindergarten?). she started hating me at some point during our eleven years as friends, and when i finally let her go, i was letting go of someone i loved like my lungs love to have enough air in them — and she was letting go of someone she has despised deeply and wished death upon for a very long time.

her silhouette remains at the horizon, as if she will never truly be gone, and my heart is sewn to her shadow. my blood infused into each step she takes to leave.

why do we use the past tense of verbs to talk about someone that is no longer in our lives anymore? i didn't just love her. i still do. i loved this woman that gave light to my life. i thought she was beautiful and so full of warmth. i still think so.

i have no poetry to make about this at the moment. maybe later, when the grief of loss has sunk its teeth in deep enough. right now i am sitting alone with a void. or is it a kaleidoscope? either way, there is something missing and the emptiness is visible. it is blinding me. and i do not know what else to do, but sit and take it.

[ikarust]

laufey’s typical of me album will be the damn death of me

[ikarust]

there's such a deep seated rage that comes with self hatred. the kind that makes me want to tear into my own arm with my teeth. and cry while i spit out my own flesh.

[ikarust]

[ikarust]

things are getting worse
i don't know what to do

[ikarust]

[ikarust]

i miss you. i miss your touch like i've felt your hands on me and like i've had mine on you before. 

           ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀i miss you the way two pairs of lips miss eachother in the middle of a first kiss. a first kiss between two people who love eachother in a way that mirrors the attraction between two opposing charges right before a lightning strike. 

there's the meeting of lips, the slight step back and the pause for air where the reality that god, i'm actually kissing them hits, and then there's the instant magnetic pull into eachother's bodies and your mouth meets mine and my tongue tastes you for the first time and there's the electric shock. the good kind. the kind that lights up the entire sky. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀do you know that it's electricity that keeps our hearts beating? there are charges between your heart and mine. we're separated by skin and flesh and bone, but if the charges between our hearts met eachother, i think they would cause an explosion bright enough to set the world on fire. we'll travel the cosmos together. you and i. we'll kiss all the time. and we'll destroy every planet we land on, just like that. until we're the only two things left in the entire universe.

 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you're the only thing i need. immortality in the shadows. we exist in the void, like god didn't know there were a pair of lovers hiding in the dark before he created light. i love you. 

[ikarust]

listen to me. answer my question, please. i need to know this. is there something i need to discover, in order to receive some love without having to sell my soul for it? i'm starting to get tired of this pattern. i give, give, give, give, give, give, give, give, and only then am i allowed even a single taste of something in return. am i not meant to be loved unconditionally? whoever said 'tell me every terrible thing you did, and let me love you anyway' needs to fall in love with me because god, i wish to be loved at my worst. i so badly want someone to walk past me while i'm on my knees like a bitch that's been shot, and for them to notice and turn back and come to me. save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me. please. love me while i am empty. i fear i will soon have no more soul left in me to sell for the sort of love i wish to receive.

[ikarust]

SO IF YOU NEED TO BE MEAN BE MEAN TO ME