welkecha

[welkecha]

「a reminder and a gentle plea」

look,

the field of flowers in your view whenever you sighed, contently, his name, the grass which brushed your knuckles as you dipped your hand in, daydreaming it’s not there anymore. all of them have wilted away, shrinking away from your eyes full of tears the ones spilling over as you try to make sense of what had happened.

look,

the home that you built when you were alone left to the mercy of the piercing monitor light at hours, silent and dark, that you had to fill, the world in which its people called you the hero, their frantic whispers becoming a chant, tying you to fate, the world which was in trouble it’s not there anymore. the churning stories have faded away, their sounds growing ever fainter as the years rolled by your ears have grown accustomed to newer melodies harmonies coming from elsewhere, as you trudge ever forward.

look, all of those things, none of them are here anymore. yet their dancing shadows flicker in your eyes, looking upwards, the echoes of their motifs chime softly in your ears, hearing still, with a burdened heart, have you carried yourself ever forward still, even shouldering the weight of stories which you cannot remember but still, you know that you have heard them and understood them, you have empathized with them, even if they have dissolved into the rest of life. with a soft grip on your soul, they bound you to some astral fate one which outruns your desperate grasps as you try to grab the truth, you have started a quest to learn, to listen, and to understand. you are still on such a quest to learn, to listen, to understand.

look, the world continues to turn, and with it, you turn still too even if you have forgotten the words which bestowed wisdom upon you your growth is undeniable. you cannot see it, and I cannot see it either but with no doubt, you have grown.

the ghosts of flowers past are embroidered in your soul, their whispers, their pleas, their lessons, all stain your color, you, along with the rest of the world, have forgotten their visages, but with such an impression it is undeniable that they once existed

just like you are existing, at this moment. at this time.

please, for your sake, first and foremost, remember yourself, at least.

[welkecha]

「I can only thank you」

the pink lemonade is sour, shocking my tongue. a deceiving sort of drink for something of its hue,

it does not taste as sweet as one might have thought.

but I fill my cup with more of it, all the way to the brim, it’s close to overflowing close to staining my porcelain gloves.

but if it would keep you here, for a few more minutes, I would drink the pink lemonade again, and again, I would do this ritual,

so that you stay with me. your voice is pigmenting the colorless day I’ve had so far, and for that, I can only thank you.

for the time we had together, it is a collection of different hues plastered together hastily, but with love, and for that,

I can only thank you.

you showed me how it was worth to let the color spill forth, unbridled by black outlines and unspoken expectations.

you told me one day about pink lemonade in particular, how it had a soft hue, glowing mildly, but how it would prick your tongue,

and so you asked me, I remember, if I could try being gentle, but unconstrained, to be kind, but still standing my ground to honor my color, to honor my own vividness

and so I have tried. while chasing the dyes you left behind. for the love and respect you have given me, it is a tint I want to keep forever,

and for that,

I can only thank you.

[welkecha]

「to be quite frank with you, i am afraid of the night」

to be quite frank with you, i am afraid of the night.

the world, its earth, underneath the empty moonlight sings an empty song, a wandering melody, and i am afraid of it. 

the world, as it exhales, shifting the oceans and letting the clouds pass by the unwrinkled sky, it looks around, in the dark, searching for something.

and frankly, i am afraid of it.

the world, shriveling up, its tears the morning dew, its desperate clutches the unforgiving howls of the wind, the cicadas at night, its pitying sobs and mewling,

it scares me. it scares me a lot.

i am afraid of the night. it is when both the world and i realize how fragile it all is.

the threads i’ve held onto, with every strength i still have, how they can just wither away and slip from my small fingers.

and so i, like the great, big, quiet world, must keep on turning, my eyes looking back, trying to find the things, the words, the images i have lost.

i am afraid of the night. i am afraid of what i am, afraid of who i am.

i fear the day i bloom joyously, abundantly, within the sun’s bosom.

i fear more the day i wilt and fade sadly wrapped in darkness in the empty night.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Love Letter

Dated: January-April 2019

Contents:

1. Jacqueline 2. Paper Blossom 3. Burial at Sea 4. Secondhand

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. Jacqueline

your heartbeats are the strings i pluck, your skin is the pearly parchment i have, your blood is the deep ink i cherish, you danced when time decayed, before my eyes, your hair was glittering a myriad of colors, and your smile, a simple, beautiful line.

when you talk, it is the whistling in the wind. when you laugh, the birds join in a chorus,

when you cry, it mimics the sound of tea being poured into a ceramic cup.

once in awhile, you break apart into the fragments which make you up. the strings, the parchment, the ink, the different gems reflecting the colors i found in your hair when i ran my fingers through it.

your eyes become the fragile pearls, lying quietly atop my shaking palms. you are beautiful, even when you are in pieces.

you remain beautiful, even if i can only remember you in pieces.

2. Paper Blossom

paper blossom, all hue in view, paper blossom, please, let me kiss you.

the navy seas color your eyes, the rosy dawn, I see it in your lips, the color is splashing forth from the happiness bundling itself around you, the orange flowers, like freckles, on your skin, the verdant birds’ songs spill into your voice, sparkling, brilliant, blazing you are at the center of the universe, with your heart beating so loudly, that it is shaking mine own.

paper blossom, all your beauty, all your hue, in my view

paper blossom, please, oh please, let me kiss you.

3. Burial at Sea

like the poppies plucked from below my petals, my cheeks, are paling against the orange epilogue of today’s sun.

the red, which coursed through my veins are fading into brown, cracking in my skin. i am dead, and here i lie, buried at sea.

the ocean, at my birth, had cupped my body, my cheek, kissed my mouth, and breathed the earth’s air into my lungs.

now it caresses my body, again, its fingers sliding off my frozen cheeks, as it is left to be the only thing breathing.

here i lie, buried at sea, with no one around to mourn me but the mother who witnessed my birth.

the mother who did not see my death.

how lonely my life was, i had spent my days living already mourning.

4. Secondhand

you, dressed all in black lace, shivering in the cold, the rain is pouring, please, come stand near me, and stay for a while.

hide from the world, for a little while.

your slumped silhouette, trembling, quietly, as you look towards the horizon. please, hear my voice, and come here. stay for a while.

to walk the gardens i imagine, you wish to do that. to swim the seas that swallow my mind, you wish to do that. to stare at the glittering stars at night, you wish to do that. to feel the wind which rouses me from my dreams, you wish to do that.

to partake in this world that i am stuck in, you wish to do all of that. but here, you are stuck, out in the silent rain, left to yourself to ponder when the sun will come back.

come, stand near me. and stay for a while. let’s enjoy the quiet you know so well, together, for once.

then let me break the silence, after a while, to tell you of the world you want to see so badly.

i hope you can forgive me then.

[welkecha]

「pigmented」

she laughs, and it is contagious.
 it is light on the ears,
 fluttering like a fairy’s wings,
 and her smile is wide, and white.

her laughter dies down,
 and she stares at me,
 a ghostly visage, lips barely moving.
 her ivory soul, stirring quietly.

her pastel pink lips curl at the ends,
 and she opens her mouth,
 and talks to me, with quiet words.
 her breath barely reaching me.

and her laughter stirs up once again, 
a witch’s cackle, she’d call it sometimes,
 and her cheeks, flushing with color, 
became a vivid splotch, pigments bleeding through the cracks, of her mute soul

the one which was so pale
 a minute ago.

[welkecha]

「Paper Blossom」

paper blossom, all hue in view, paper blossom, please, let me kiss you.

the navy seas color your eyes, the rosy dawn, I see it in your lips, the color is splashing forth from the happiness bundling itself around you, the orange flowers, like freckles, on your skin, the verdant birds’ songs spill into your voice, sparkling, brilliant, blazing you are at the center of the universe, with your heart beating so loudly, that it is shaking mine own.

paper blossom, all your beauty, all your hue, in my view

paper blossom, please, oh please, let me kiss you.

[welkecha]

「Jacqueline」

your heartbeats are the strings i pluck, your skin is the pearly parchment i have, your blood is the deep ink i cherish, you danced when time decayed, before my eyes, your hair was glittering a myriad of colors, and your smile, a simple, beautiful line.

when you talk, it is the whistling in the wind. when you laugh, the birds join in a chorus,

when you cry, it mimics the sound of tea being poured into a ceramic cup.

once in awhile, you break apart into the fragments which make you up. the strings, the parchment, the ink, the different gems reflecting the colors i found in your hair when i ran my fingers through it.

your eyes become the fragile pearls, lying quietly atop my shaking palms. you are beautiful, even when you are in pieces.

you remain beautiful, even if i can only remember you in pieces.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Adieu

Dated: December 2018

Contents:

1. Hometown 2. A heart remains still 3. I’m not sure what to tell you 4. I can only thank you

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. Hometown

the hometown is the charm one carries around within their heart.

the hometown, maybe, is the reminder one heeds mind to the weight which is anchored in their heart.

the hometown, perhaps, is an unkind curse the one which shreds one’s heart and leaves its pieces burning at the edges.

the hometown are the ghastly hands reaching out to you, scratching your skin to hold onto you, for just a bit longer.

the hometown is the echo of the wind chimes as the day dies down, and the sun turns to sleep, as the light leaves the land, and leaves you behind.

the houses at dusk, the storefront lights, the fireworks at night, the song at a recital, the warmth, the unforgiving grasp of the chilling night, the fireflies dancing, the bridges, above rushing waters, the childish stories, the rushed invitations the way the air tastes at night, the sea, the port, the quiet waves,

the hometown remains in one place, and in some cases, it disappears. but it is always moving, its soul, carried around as passing sparks which color the blank slots that life, living life, leaves around, sometimes.

2. A heart remains still

I am still the wicked witch of the southeast, I encase my love in little, soft pouches, a red string coiled so tightly at the opening, the one I tug on, ceaselessly,

so that the love I have which remains still does not spill out.

yes, I admit, I am still the wicked witch of the southeast, my small lips only opening to foretell wicked omens, future evils, the plague, the storms, the end which arrives quietly with the shadows of my mind

the twilight which eclipses my heart so, the one which seeks to swallow up all of my light.

the heart I’ve hidden away, I look for it every other day. mercy, mercy, so they pray, so that I send kindness their way. (so my light becomes an abundant ray.)

(eventually)

it is still there. the wicked witch, she still has a heart. I am the wicked witch, and I have a heart. and, often, she wishes to share it with others, and, I wish, and I wish to show it to others.

on the condition that they understand that the light she will give will wax and wane, that the light I have within my small body, it will flicker and dim slightly. but it is still there.

that the soft pouches she keeps secret can be found, that the heart she’s hidden away can be found that the heart that I’ve yet to lose

can be found.

3. I’m not sure what to tell you

you pointed out Vega to me, and with a crooked smile told me how it was one of the brightest stars in the night sky.

I laughed softly, and nodded, my ears hanging onto each word you said; you haven’t spoken in so long, and here you are, your face about to break into

laughter, a flood of tears, or a harsh scarlet of anger, I don’t know which one, but your voice, cracked and hoarse, told me about one of the brightest stars tonight.

you’re always walking, aimlessly, endlessly, in the dark, in the night that is so cruel as it takes and takes away from you all the time, over and over again, until you are left with nothing, again.

I don’t know if you wanted to hear that because you walk in the night so much, that you at least see the stars much better

than those who walk during the day.

4. I can only thank you

the pink lemonade is sour, shocking my tongue. a deceiving sort of drink for something of its hue,

it does not taste as sweet as one might have thought.

but I fill my cup with more of it, all the way to the brim, it’s close to overflowing close to staining my porcelain gloves.

but if it would keep you here, for a few more minutes, I would drink the pink lemonade again, and again, I would do this ritual,

so that you stay with me. your voice is pigmenting the colorless day I’ve had so far, and for that, I can only thank you.

for the time we had together, it is a collection of different hues plastered together hastily, but with love, and for that,

I can only thank you.

you showed me how it was worth to let the color spill forth, unbridled by black outlines and unspoken expectations.

you told me one day about pink lemonade in particular, how it had a soft hue, glowing mildly, but how it would prick your tongue,

and so you asked me, I remember, if I could try being gentle, but unconstrained, to be kind, but still standing my ground to honor my color, to honor my own vividness

and so I have tried. while chasing the dyes you left behind. for the love and respect you have given me, it is a tint I want to keep forever,

and for that,

I can only thank you.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Milletian

Dated: November 2018

Contents:

1. moonlady 2. grandmother 3. pigmented

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. moonlady

with ivory arms extended, she mouths her spell, 
she wishes, again upon the half moon,
 for all pieces of herself to find their way back to her.

the sleeves of her dress sweep across the ground,
 the sickly glow of the half moon shining on them, 
as she, with shaking hands, scoops up what remains.

the fragments, dotted with black petals, 
they are warm before they scatter away, 
and she is left, clutching her chest, with her hands empty.

every night, she seeks herself out, once again,
 only for fragments of her porcelain soul to disintegrate,
 and for her to sigh softly, and to wait for the next night.

upon the half moon, she wishes,
 that she could piece herself back once again.

on the new moon, will she be whole again?
 or must she wait till the full moon?

2. grandmother

my grandmother, with her burnt fingers, 
would weave me a blanket, every winter,
 she whispered to me, many, many times

of the fields of snow which she trekked,
 of the fires she’s started, the ones she’s endured,
 the wars she fought in, the castles she stormed,

how each one broke her soul, shattering it 
into little, brightly-shining gems,
 how each time, she had to scoop up what she could

and put herself back together again.

when she weaved me that blanket, for the winter, 
she takes her time, and she does it slowly.
 she holds each thread as if it could shatter in her

gentle, caring hands.
 the ones which have killed,
 the ones which have ended stars
 to make new ones rise anew.

how could she be so calm, so gentle, 
even after all the evils she’s done
 and been subjected to?

at peace, she was, as she weaved me another blanket,
 and i could only look at her, each time, and wonder,
 how someone who knew how to destroy so many things

could build something beautiful and warm, 
with kindness, with tenderness.
 with love, intertwined so closely inside the threads.

3. pigmented

she laughs, and it is contagious.
 it is light on the ears,
 fluttering like a fairy’s wings,
 and her smile is wide, and white.

her laughter dies down,
 and she stares at me,
 a ghostly visage, lips barely moving.
 her ivory soul, stirring quietly.

her pastel pink lips curl at the ends,
 and she opens her mouth,
 and talks to me, with quiet words.
 her breath barely reaching me.

and her laughter stirs up once again, 
a witch’s cackle, she’d call it sometimes,
 and her cheeks, flushing with color, 
became a vivid splotch, pigments bleeding through the cracks, of her mute soul

the one which was so pale
 a minute ago.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Constellation of Flowers

Dated: October 2018

Contents:

1. prayer 2. inkborne 3. dusk and dawn

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. prayer

our songs are scattered, souls wandering, the petals break off from us and float absentmindedly towards the river at the end of the world.

the twinkling twilight frowns at us, and the cerulean surface turns murky, without form, we have become, without direction, we are bound to be.

guide us, the god gliding on the surface of the water. guide us, to a pearly shore where we can return to our paths towards our judgment.

take our echoing voices and reconcile them, into a chorus. our petals, gather them up, and deposit them where we are meant to be judged.

our lives have bloomed and then wilted, and now our souls, fragmented and tired, need to be seen and judged.

so let us not stray from our paths, let us float down this river, with direction, and find peace

in the still trees at the end of the world, the ones which make no sound even as the wind comes through and rustles their purple blossoms.

2. inkborne

i’ve spent enough waking hours with those words, hanging off the tip of my tongue.

here, lie my wishes, they do, hoping, one day, they will be inkborne.

if i could write them out, and hand them to others, maybe i could stay more true

more certain. more sure. more like who i was meant to be.

3. dusk and dawn

the dusk, a black velvet, brushing its fingers against my skin.

blessed, we are to be, to watch the stars come out of shadows to shine brilliantly, onto our eyes.

the moonlady, a silent threader, guiding us, by her moonbeams towards the sky, to watch in awe.

at how the world dies, and is born again, with no one to watch.

with little words spoken, the ocean waters are gentle, gliding along, swallowing lands whole.

with the stars shining, we reach death. as the moonlady retreats to rest, we reach the beginning again.

the dawn, its warm fingers trace letters now, upon my skin. rousing me to wake, to face the sun

once again.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Red is the Color of Blood

Dated: September 2018

Contents:

1. revelation 2. the veins are the dotted lines 3. wilting song 4. return

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. revelation

revelation the forms converge, my words, my breath, diverge.

red. it is the color of blood. red. it is the color of this string. red. the color of my ink. red. the color of these thoughts.

I wish to undo this world, to unravel it, to lay it all bare, before my hands.

to attain such a revelation. the forms, I want them to converge, my words, my breath, I hold onto them, still.

red, it is the color of blood, the one I spill to attain this revelation. red, it is the color of this string, the one I cut to attain this revelation. red, the color of my ink, as I bleed myself, exposing myself. red, the color of these thoughts, as I say them out loud and others chuckle softly and think “they’ve surely lost their mind.”

the lack of revelation, the forms, they diverge and scatter, those words, those breaths, they converge, and they stay still.

and so, the soul stays still. and nothing moves. nothing moves.

the world which is not red is the one in which everyone sleeps.

2. the veins are the dotted lines

the veins are the dotted lines, my manicured nails, the edge, along the lines, i cut, the blood is the red ink those letters on the petals i’m peeling off.

i write my past in red, and i peel it off. i bury it, with bloodied hands, into the earth, to grow again.

the one who grows, then, looks nothing like me. but i see an echo of myself in them,

when the light shines into their eyes, and they’re startled, for a quick second.

they see flashes of what once was, what they came from, who they were, in the past.

their veins become the dotted lines, their own manicured nails, become the edge, along the lines, they’ll eventually cut.

their blood is the glistening red ink.

the letters on the petals they will get peeled off, they will be buried in the earth, and again, and again, i, them, we all go through it again.

3. wilting song

grey become the days, as they wilt, and here, I hold onto you, closing my eyes, mouthing silently my wish for the sun to stop falling.

the sky is a blanket of red with a pool of orange, and it hurts my eyes. no, I did not want the grey morning which would surely follow when the sun set.

I want to be with you still, but as the days pass, I lose you more and more, and what I have of the past, becomes less and less, and I wish it did not have to be like this.

the summer green had already turned into the autumn red leaves which fall to the ground, the clouds gather more nowadays, and I oft wake up without the sun greeting me.

I wish, oh I wish, that the sun would stop falling. I wish, oh I do, that the moon would not rise. that the world stayed still, for just a bit, and the red sunset would envelop us much longer.

between night and day, is where I had found you. and I’m terrified it is when I will lose you too. the red flowers have already wilted, but I still hold onto you as I keep my eyes closed.

4. return

grant me the strength, to fade away, in the sunset. grant me the courage, to lift myself up, and leave, amidst the scarlet rays.

find me, my shattered shell and soul, swimming in the red sea. find me, my ghostly aroma, my small, cracked voice, singing along with crimson sirens.

I am the light, like everyone else, and so I wish to find the strength within me, within my trembling core, to scatter myself, into the air.

eyes, not mine, have grown tired of me. lips, not mine, have exhausted themselves wrapping themselves around my name, calling out to me whenever I wandered away.

and so I wish to leave, to get up and just simply leave. I have overstayed, on this day, and so I want to leave and come back another day, in a quiet way.

[welkecha]

「revelation」

revelation the forms converge, my words, my breath, diverge.

red. it is the color of blood. red. it is the color of this string. red. the color of my ink. red. the color of these thoughts.

I wish to undo this world, to unravel it, to lay it all bare, before my hands.

to attain such a revelation. the forms, I want them to converge, my words, my breath, I hold onto them, still.

red, it is the color of blood, the one I spill to attain this revelation. red, it is the color of this string, the one I cut to attain this revelation. red, the color of my ink, as I bleed myself, exposing myself. red, the color of these thoughts, as I say them out loud and others chuckle softly and think “they’ve surely lost their mind.”

the lack of revelation, the forms, they diverge and scatter, those words, those breaths, they converge, and they stay still.

and so, the soul stays still. and nothing moves. nothing moves.

the world which is not red is the one in which everyone sleeps.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Bad Girls’ Club

Dated: August 2018

Contents:

1. the kaleidoscope girl 2. the girl who won’t be missed dearly 3. the dress girl 4. the sunflower girl 5. the dolled up girl 6. note

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. the kaleidoscope girl

with skin so fair, a smile sweet and rare, her eyes, a lovely pair

the lights on stage all glow at the center of it, she was the show.

even butterflies, flashing flowers with equal petals, faced each other and blinked furiously as darkness traced by, leaving her untouched.

no lights askew, all were in their rightful place. the red target reticle, closing in around her figure, her silhouette outlined neatly with beautiful lace, her rouge lips set in a line so straight.

the kaleidoscope girl, that’s who she was. she was perfect. she was rare. to not be her? that was not fair.

an ungodly beauty, that was all the rage and so I willingly chased after her glowing shadow to be up on that stage,

to be like her, the kaleidoscope girl. minding not the gaudy, lacquered cage.

2. the girl who won’t be missed dearly

with beauty and grace, back straight, head held high.

the plush red, on her lips, the plush red, on her cheeks, the plush red, around her eyes,

she pulled it, and the shot rang out, in the night.

the plush red, on her blouse, the plush red, on her cheeks, the plush red, round her fingers,

“good bye,” she whispered sweetly, to the girl who won’t be missed dearly.

3. the dress girl

“today is the day, I will kill you,” I breathed, my heart beating loudly and fast, “the dress you are wearing was trendy last month, but now it’s just an eyesore, I know you should have fun, but why are you like this? out in the open?”

she didn’t say anything, only gawked at me, with her mouth closed, her fingers dripping with the neon threads of the recent kill she’s caught.

slits in her eyes, she was like a cat one that writhed in the shadows, silently stalking the girls she’s set out to kill.

“today, you will die, I swear,” I whispered as I held the knife above my head, in, the metal went, sinking into her soft body, and her own neon threads spat out and covered my trembling hands.

“you’re hideous,” I hissed, plunging the knife again, and some of her threads splattered over my forehead.

“why are you like this? why are you such an ugly monster, in the day?”

my hands became tangled with her flesh, and I stopped, paused, and looked at her.

she had turned into a dress, no longer the monster she was moments ago.

I blinked a few times, and then I saw, the blood on my arm, the blood on my blouse.

she was gone, her only traces left with me.

4. the sunflower girl

please look my way, i’m so lonely here, it’s a bright day, the sunflowers are singing.

i want to stay asleep, holding your hand.

the day’s silent shadows do not reach my mind, here.

your smile, it is shining, here i am, still pining,

let me hold your soft hand, swat away those fears of mine, please.

you let out a light sigh, without much, you said goodbye.

when the sun left the sky, i took it as a sign that the end, here, was nigh.

your eyes were closed, and they stayed closed, as i brushed your cooling skin.

the sunflowers are singing, it’s tomorrow already. you are singing along with them, too.

you are looking my way now the day is still bright, and it’s burning.

we both stayed asleep, and at this, i thought, was a peace i wanted to keep.

(was a secret i wanted to keep.)

5. the dolled up girl

life is a certain way, that is what they all say.

beauty is when you close the white walls around the mold festering in the living room.

grace is when you tell others to look away while you stumble and fall, hard, to the ground.

the red plush painting my lips, it’s surreal it’s as if i’ve never tasted dark bitter words from others.

rose blush, outlining my bright, big eyes, my soul’s a baby blue, like the skies.

the lace covers up the scabs and scratches, i try to erase the burns from past matches.

my life, this life, it has become a certain way, as they silently cut me up, that is what they say.

but today, i’ll smash those white walls down and let the mold fester and pulse, letting it breathe.

i will scream and shout, so others will see and at least know that i fall, and then i get up. i fall and then get up again.

the purple, dried lips, i will sing with them, off-key, the bitterness, the broken trust, it’s all a part of me.

my soul’s a baby blue on some days, a dark violet others, my eyes will pierce through all, searching for the truth.

the forgotten honesty amidst all the mirages.

my scars, my scabs, i will rip them off and let them bleed, the burns, the dull aches, they must echo before they quiet.

that life before, was not my life, and so i will kill it i will cut her up myself, and set my path straight again.

life, she, to them, had always been a certain way. but for me, if my life won’t be that way after all i think i’ll be just okay.

6. note

we watched sunsets together, drank milkshakes together, you stood in the shadows as I stood in the light of day.

you hummed the melodies, I sung them, with you. you were the steady beat, I was the lyric on people’s lips.

I never really told anyone about you, what you were, who you were.

you stood in the dark, but I could see the blood shining. I could see your hands shaking, as you held onto what was left.

you wanted to kill me too. I wanted to kill myself, too. but you knew what I had to be so that you could move around, here.

I am sorry that you had to kill so many so that we could live, the two of us, so that we could walk among all the others who have done their own share of killing.

we had lived, like this, and it’s troubling. we wash the blood away, but I can still feel it on my skin.

the life we had under the sun was glittering, but beneath it was something else.

you knew that, and I knew that, and we both knew that we each knew that.

[welkecha]

「the dress girl」

“today is the day, I will kill you,” I breathed, my heart beating loudly and fast, “the dress you are wearing was trendy last month, but now it’s just an eyesore, I know you should have fun, but why are you like this? out in the open?”

she didn’t say anything, only gawked at me, with her mouth closed, her fingers dripping with the neon threads of the recent kill she’s caught.

slits in her eyes, she was like a cat one that writhed in the shadows, silently stalking the girls she’s set out to kill.

“today, you will die, I swear,” I whispered as I held the knife above my head, in, the metal went, sinking into her soft body, and her own neon threads spat out and covered my trembling hands.

“you’re hideous,” I hissed, plunging the knife again, and some of her threads splattered over my forehead.

“why are you like this? why are you such an ugly monster, in the day?”

my hands became tangled with her flesh, and I stopped, paused, and looked at her.

she had turned into a dress, no longer the monster she was moments ago.

I blinked a few times, and then I saw, the blood on my arm, the blood on my blouse.

she was gone, her only traces left with me.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Ruby Mark

Dated: July 2018

Contents:

1. A Saying 2. Interstellar 3. Lance 4. Last Afternoon 5. Remarks 1 6. Remarks 2 7. Unsuccessful Signals

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. A Saying

april showers bring may flowers you whispered that once to me as you stroked my hair, as I rocked back and forth, crying quietly.

it is still raining in may and the flowers wilted weeks ago. the gray fills my veins and I feel nauseous, there’s always a strange glow to your eyes and I look away every time.

2. Interstellar

a girl from a small town her story set in a small planet within a small neighborhood of stardust.

the sky above her glowed every night, the pastel pinks of the eve melted into the gold and violet weaves of the night.

her eyes opened to the creamy white of day, the green, blocky clouds lined with neon yellow, she was a girl from a small town.

every year, she and countless others send out letters, etched with their letters written in bright red ink.

the curves of their greetings they would melt in the space above.

the downward slopes of their goodbyes they melted too in the space above.

beyond the colorful expanse above her head, she would write salutations: how are you? to someone who existed beyond that neighborhood.

that small neighborhood of stardust. there was something, someone, beyond it all, she dreamed of gentlepeople with growing horns

with one eye, three eyes, four arms, five legs. six hearts? sure. seven mouths.

eight fingers, too.

every year, her words carried themselves into space, and she hopes, every time, that she would hear back.

but her words, they would just melt in the space above. every time, they would just melt.

3. Lance

once you asked if you could hold the lance, you almost toppled over from its weight.

now with the image of those eyes seared into yours, which were tranquil moments ago, you stand in front of me, standing tall, fearless, your bloodlust falling silently around you like how your hair falls in gentle waves onto your shoulders.

you held onto your lance, saying nothing, your lips set in a grim line.

4. Last Afternoon

I remember, staying still, for 15 minutes, staring at how the sun covered the trees, the traces in the air left behind by their branches as they swayed to a quiet song carried by the wind.

the blue sky was a friend today, and the clouds their soft, caring whispers. sweat stuck to my skin, and I blinked, as a cold chill released itself from the AC vent.

I was here, I was here now, and I realized then that the world had become more colorful when I wasn’t looking the entire time;

this was the kind of summer younger me had wished for, while she clung on the railings, trying to decide whether to end the grey days or not.

5. Remarks 1

the quieter the night is the louder laughter becomes but the emptier it all feels when nothing is making a sound you can hear yourself breathing, you can hear yourself living and to be frank with you, i don't want to hear that sound. it makes me scared. it reminds me that like all the other noise i'll quiet down and disappear.

6. Remarks 2

i was colorful, in those years behind us, once i learned that the best way to shut them up was to drive a knife into my heart,

to shut those voices up, so that i could move, that stinging in my chest would jolt me awake.

the red dripping from my white blouse, i was saturated with hue just like it in those years behind us, that much is true.

yet, now, as i sit silently in this darkness writing this so early in the morning

my soul is shivering. it’s cold. and my color, it has gone mute. i became the tinkling of the bells that chimed at the park that no one really visits anymore.

“ah yes, i remember her” and that would be all which they would say.

ah yes, i remember her. and that would be the end of it.

7. Unsuccessful Signals

“I love you so much, I love you so much,” your words, which did not reach me, echoed in the caging silence that night.

I will tell you, on the day after the morrow, your heart whispered, as your mouth stayed still, while you stared at me in the bar last night.

my eyes were wide, trembling tears falling, even when my face was contorted in shock, you thought I was still beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” is what I think you would have said.

but you said something else, as I held onto what was left of you

knowing full well, that you were leaving me behind after everything.

[welkecha]

Poem Compilation

Compilation’s Name: Violet

Dated: June 2018

Contents:

1. A Violet Dress 2. Clad in Blue, Then Red Instead 3. Birthday Wish 4. Impetuous 5. Daughter 6. Milkshakes 7. Gamble

(All poems are my creation and belong to me. If you want to share them, please reblog or link the tumblr post.)

Poems below read more

1. A Violet Dress

grandmother’s spinning wheel whirred faintly, it was the only sound in the room that afternoon.

you laid near me, your head on my lap, I held your hand as I closed my eyes to think.

the fabric grandmother was making, it was violet, a deep shade of it that clashed with the orange day.

if you strained your ears, you could hear her hum, a lullaby, it was, and I felt myself slowly falling asleep.

my eyelids grew heavy, and my breathing slowed down. when I closed my eyes, there was the reddish glow of day,

but in the midst of it was the streak of violet, sitting there, quietly, as it grew in length with time. you wore a violet dress that one time, for an event, several months ago, and grandmother said the color fit you

you were a daughter of the day, you would tell me, yet you looked so beautiful, wrapped in violet, smiling gently.

2. Clad in Blue, Then Red Instead

saying almost nothing, you left in the middle of the day.

when I first met you, you were clad in blue.

when all of it was over, you wore red instead.

as I travel the ocean dividing the world into two,

my eyes dart across the green fields, thinking I saw your shadow, bolting by.

the big sea nearby now, the hometown I’ve found again,

both are too quiet. and so I think when I hear the grass rustle a little,

it is you, playing a terrible prank on me. when are you coming back?

3. Birthday Wish

I’m the birthday girl today so let me have one little wish,

come back, riding into town, on the most pristine horse you could find.

or maybe just your car, that would be enough too.

I’ve spent too many days staring up looking at the warm skies turning violet

watching those little specks of stardust swim through the sky slowly as seconds expired.

I remember how before we would sleep you’d chuckle, kiss my knuckles, and sing to me.

“Good night, good night,” you’d always coo, but for so long now, the air had been too quiet.

so let me have this one little wish, let me, just this once, be a little selfish

come back soon, ride into town, whether it’s at when morning breaks into noon or when night breaks into morning.

and then, knock on my door, and let me open it let me, with warm love and cool relief welling up in my chest, greet you first, and let me kiss you then.

I’m the birthday girl today but even when I’m not, I still want this wish to come true. come back soon; you don’t even have to send word before you do.

when you’re in front of me, that would be more than enough.

4. Impetuous

I laugh a little too loud, shaking the earth beneath me, scaring the kids playing at the river.

when I smile, my eyes crinkle too much, the clouds get stirred up too much, the creases in the sky become uncountable.

when I fall in love with a star, I stare at it far too long, gawking at it in awe, delighted by its glow, by its spritely dances.

and the seas? how easy do I fall asleep besides them, hand in hand, I stay besides the sea and close my eyes, feeling its quiet song washing over me as I lay down.

the sun, plastered into my sky, it too was exquisite, every day, I hold it tenderly, and I let out a warm chuckle, and there it goes again, the earth trembles, even just a little.

in this world that seems to daze everyone else with delicate, hazy colors of auburn, yellow, and the likes, I was a brash color. I was too noisy, too dramatic.

I was this unbecoming, impetuous violet, a harmless monster left out to romp about.

5. Daughter

daughter of the violet tides, swimming quietly all this time, the sea is cold despite the red in its name, you hug it closely still, the melodies which fastened themselves to the sea’s whispers, accompanied by the small clicks it made upon the pearly shores.

the day has come for you to leave it all behind, for you to leave before the cannons have been shot and the green above the waters have turned to grey ash.

in due time, the harsh red will fade from your eyes and heart, in due time, the songs of the sea will have died in your ears, in due time, you will forget the colors worn by your first home.

and in due time, you will return to the violet tides when they have quieted down.

6. Milkshakes

one night, it was about 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air was thick with heat. we had all been sitting around, on the squeaky couches, talking and talking.

one moment later, we were getting into my car, we were all going on a milkshake run. and the sky was turning dark; harsh red lips set themselves at the center of the orange face, the cheeks cloaked by violet.

we drove up that street with that gradual slope up, and then down, I lifted my feet off from the pedal, and we rolled down, letting our worries fly into the air, leaving them behind us as we got closer to our destination.

the summer heat did not bother us, the encroaching future, with its uncertainty, did not bother us either. it was all of us, being careless for once, talking about the frivolous, the mighty, anything that existed and our brains wanted to hold onto, we let our masks go over some milkshakes. now when I come back to our hometown, I hope that there are some days where I could at least be careless, be free, be playful, feel a reasonless vivaciousness that was there when we let our masks go over some milkshakes.

7. Gamble

a violet embrace, one which falls upon me, quietly.

I close my eyes, and wish to myself, for happy days.

the path to them, lined with violets, the ones you’ve given me.

with a sly smile, you egged me into gambling for love.

into gambling for life.

I am still weary from days past, when underneath lilac skies

I would cry, my heart shrinking painfully, pain coursing through my body

as I was left breathing, silently pleading for mercy, for release.

through the lashing gales, beneath the glowing stars, I trudged forward, slowly.

a violet embrace (from whatever is beyond us) fell upon me quietly (and ever since then) I’ve closed my eyes, and wished.

I close my eyes, and wish to myself, for happy days.

the path to them, lined with the violets, I’ve shown you,

the ones you’ve given me, as you told me to gamble all I had to live.

to gamble all I had to love (again)

[welkecha]

「Clad in Blue, Then Red Instead」

saying almost nothing, you left in the middle of the day.

when I first met you, you were clad in blue.

when all of it was over, you wore red instead.

as I travel the ocean dividing the world into two,

my eyes dart across the green fields, thinking I saw your shadow, bolting by.

the big sea nearby now, the hometown I’ve found again,

both are too quiet. and so I think when I hear the grass rustle a little,

it is you, playing a terrible prank on me. when are you coming back?