efni - Hello Poetry

efni 7d

monstrous, grieving clouds send out
deep bellows and flashing light rods
as warnings for what is to come

animals that aren’t running to shelter
have already hidden by now

the birds have become scarce

the trees stand still

06.04.24

waiting…

this is my 300th poem.
i’m glad it’s not a sad one

efni 7d

cloudy

from inside the valley, looking up will reveal
a fortress of mountains
protecting our homes, and pointing to the
endless shades of blue above

but today, it is trapped
within a dome of dense grey
unrelenting grey

it brings noisy, manic winds
knocking the temperatures down
by a few degrees but

the still air is scarier
that silence is louder

as the clouds grow
as we all wait

06.04.24

the experience of watching a storm build up on my island.

these clouds have been growing for over a week now. once the rain starts to fall, it will be something to be reckoned with

May 30

amanda

odd kind

she was
an odd kind
of suicidal

not manic
or depressive,
no—
she lived her days
to the fullest—
hopeful even

that each
would be her last

for the last two years,
i’ve lived every day
like it’s my last,
hoping that it is

which i realize
is dark

and odd

May 30

amanda

forgery

i’m not happy

but i practiced forging
its signature
until no one could tell
the difference

efni May 28

ouch

my mother looks at me like
a wound on her arm, unsightly
and gushing hot velvet blood

she buries me in bandages
she can't stand to watch me bleed
she can't stand me.

so she waits until i scab
until i am cold and hard and tender
until i eventually fall away

05.28.23

she never wanted children. she never wanted me. she will never stop blaming me for that, because blaming herself would ruin her. blaming herself will make her a failure - and then it's all for nothing. so blame me. you might as well. just ignore me until i fall away. it's okay, mom.

efni May 28

a soul like stained glass

the beauty i find manifests through me like rays of energy
in the same way that light animates broken glass pieces
which are held together by the lead from the bullets
that ruthlessly shattered me in the first place

05.27.23

brokenness cannot stop me from searching for beauty.
even during death, even after death.

efni May 20

Untitled

every day i wake up
and deny myself death
and it is torture,
it is torture,
it is torture.

i don’t want anything else