The igloo they built for me is frozen ice now, a glacier.
Catching dust like a forsaken textbook.
At my feet is a freezing future-brochure
catching snowflakes and glitter-like snow by the brook.
I bet they curse their huge eyes that my black blinds deflect.
My windows are too small to look through so they know nothing.
Then there is technology and paranoia that can affect
the pitiful truth, that in truth they have a huge nothing.
I like to clean its insides, keep it spotless like marble.
It twinkles and shines, like precious, expensive crystal.
My snow globe, where I exist in serenity
that the angels who sit on human shoulders miss.
When their humans die, like shinigami,
they'll have their old tranquility.
For now they can watch them trip and fall and stumble.
They have permission to snicker, to whisper, to giggle.
But they can't, like blaspheming ghosts, pop the bubble.
They can't cross realms, show themselves, wiggle.
Was my state of absence predicted by the stars too?
Their blasted midnight blue?
I will crush the pond with stones in spite of them, but ooh,
they saw that coming too.
If anyone does watch, why?
From their privileged sky?
Did you regret that you did die?
Did you want to grow wings and fly?
Realise your selfishness and wallow in regret.
I have no remorse for those who are in conflict with themselves.
I am bold enough to admit that much without fret.
Watch how more fairies fly off the shelves.
Their tiny wings like those of butterflies,
paper thin and perfect for cutting.
Stupid insects, cursed, buzzing, bothering flies.
The scientists think they're good for slicing, dicing, ripping.
No one can have my mind, that much should be obvious.
It is like a distant moon, subconscious foreign to me even.
I can't hear its comments, kind, sweet, stinging, opprobrious.
No, it's deep seas come to me in my dreams and fantasies but it remains alien.
Keep trying to touch the clouds, the whipped white and sky blue.
Keep dreaming, fantasising, imagining because it's all you can do.
Keep wishing, hoping, you idiot fool.
Keep salivating, keep that drool.
You will never know mine
and I will never know yours.
Your perception is yours, your yellow is my purple.
︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎
ద ద 𖦊 ꪉ 𐀔 𐃸 ద 𖦊 ʊ
༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒ . . ༒
༒ ༒ ᜊ ༒ ༒ ༒
༒ ༒ ༒
༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒
༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒
ద ༒
༒ . ༒
༒ . . ᰔ
༒
༒
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Shards of Sugar (2022 - 2023) | Poetry
Poetry▫️Words as Sweet as Silver.▫️ This is Eclipse's Third and Latest Poetry Book/Collection. This book is essentially Poetry By Eclipse 3 and is sometimes known as that because it is my third poetry book on Wattpad. ▫️ @DarkenedEclipse739's Poetry Books...
