lordofthekings

[lordofthekings]

my desk sits at the window, and I sit at it; in the evenings I can see into the flat of the man who lives across the road. I see him as I sit writing at my desk, a pen between my lips. he turns on the light oblivious to the world and as it gets late he begins to remove his clothes

one by one, they drop until he is naked

I know I should not look, but how does one look away?

I have seen every inch of his beautiful body, he shines with the moonlight. I think I know him

I have wondered on many an occasion, should I knock on his door? let him know that I can see that he is exposed there is no privacy between us; I know him intimately

and I wonder if he sees me with my lamp on, sitting at my desk; has he wondered what I am writing, seen the tears I cry in anguish the times I sit with my head in my hands for hours or counted how many glasses of wine I have poured that evening?

has he thought about knocking on my door to let me know I am exposed there is no privacy between us; he knows me intimately

does he know that I write about him, that we are ships in the night

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[lordofthekings]

I can’t function and am alone. I don’t know what to do; I am trapped in too much pain. I’m exhausted from explaining my pain. I’m exhausted from living it, and all I get is void and more pain.

I know you're exhausted by explaining your pain, it *is* exhausting. Every time you explain it, you live it again. But I am asking you to explain a final time. What pains you, and can we help?

M x

[lordofthekings]

I gave up and it wasn’t my choice I can’t function but I’m feeling horrible day and night it is hunting me. Please help me my brain can not stop I live with stress I am trapped

hello, I'm so sorry I took a hiatus from my blog. I hope you're okay

I know how it is to feel trapped but I can't put myself in your shoes. What are you trapped by, and is there a way to set yourself free?

[lordofthekings]

after my grandma was buried, my uncle, in a state of grief, watered her grave. he had seen others - all navigating their existence with loss - shower their beloveds and, with the arrival of summer, little buds would peak through the earth, small symbols of life and love after death.

an argument erupted between he and his wife one afternoon - he could not find the watering can and my grandma had been thirsty for two days. how could he let her die again?

through the grief, my uncle had not realised that he had not placed any seeds in my grandma's bed, and poured nothing but hope over her blanket. summers came and went, but no flowers bloomed; life and love after death was only ever found in hope.

#poetry