R.j.Elsewhere

Australia

In every bit of truth, my writing is pretty terrible and by being here, I hope to improve it. Anyways, all you have to know about me is that I love coffee, my cat, and food, and of course, writing and reading. And I hate the way 'Lemon' is spelt.

Message from Writer

Say it, and risk the humiliation; scream it, or whisper, or write it - even paint it on your skin. Just say it . All you're afraid to speak, do it with a shaky voice, and small trembling hands - and say it. Say it with your last breath, be it faint, and whisper thin, or meet death quietly. Let it fall off your lips, and rid the air of its emptiness. Say it. I am a nerd.

i thought we would let the past burn- not grow

December 17, 2018

FREE WRITING

9
one day your sister will try and pull the wet from the air with earthy fingers,
And collect it into the lining of her palms
but the water which comes and floods the four corners of this kitchen,
does not come from your let lose breath;
but the walls of your sister’s throat,
and you both end up in a pool of rosewater and thorns
because there are flowers in the lungs of your sister,
(and sometimes she coughs up dirt but you dont say a word)
and all flowers need water to grow
 
and sometimes you both just need to drown a little to understand that
(drown with a sister to remember she’s only half of you, but all her father)
 
But give me a chance to rephrase;
Your sister’s father was a gardener,
She was 17 when she took after him,
(You were 11 – but you knew, you always knew)
But your father was a chandler
(she stopped calling him dad after she turned 17 –you were 11; but you knew, you always knew)
and fire and flowers don’t tend to mix
 
you never pulled the wet from the air,
you burnt it out,
to swallow the air instead
because you needed something to sweep away the ash from off your tongue;
but sometimes you swallow too much
and leave too little,
and everyone is left suffocating around you in the kitchen,
and the four walls of the room are too close for your heat
never will you learn to tame the fire in your belly
(you brush candlewax from out your hair with your sister’s brush; you know how she hates it)
but hunger is what drives the fire to survive
 
Your sister is of flowers and water,
And you are of fire and wax,
So there is no wonder
as to why you both dont talk anymore
I'm trying something new, so give me your honest opinion. hay or nay. 

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5 Comments
  • Ashleigh2403

    I like this it has beautiful word imagery.


    8 months ago
  • Ashleigh2403

    letting you know I decided to extend my deadline 2 days


    over 1 year ago
  • Anha

    hay to the hell yeah with this deeply symbolic and metaphorical style. but based on the number of comments, someone commented but didn't like this... imma find them :)


    over 1 year ago
  • Silver Pen

    Definitely hay! I'm glad I clicked on this! The symbolism is wonderful, and it would be kinda cool to see a story made out of the poem.


    over 1 year ago
  • Oscar_Locke

    hay hay hay HEY this is awesome and i love it. you manage to tell a story, use such powerful symbolism and keep it all coherent that it's genius.

    literally genius.


    over 1 year ago