nighttime rituals

you know the days have become none less
than dully excrutiating when your instinct
beckons you to dread the sunrise.
that's why i favor the hour
and hours beyond
when the glowing giant of the sky
ducks beneath the mountains
and the ether's inky purple carpet is dotted
in snowflakes. i flicker on
dim fairy lights and fill the space
with lavender air, propping up
my pillows and settling in
for the usual
unfinished math homework-
rewatch tv shows-
read some gay verse book no one's ever heard of-
plink out my nostalgia on kalimba-
measure out tomorrow's to-do's-
pretend i'm not up till quarter to 4-
write just a few more poems
routine. so after the day's done
grinding on, grueling, and i'm done
chasing after it, you'll find me
bathing in lavender air, my features softly shadowed
by a thousand yellow lights, nestled
beneath la lune's crooked smile, clutching
my battered canvas green journal
tight, fostering the swooping calligraphy
of just one more poem.

elise.writer

VT

16 years old

More by elise.writer

  • fragile foundation

    every twist of inadequacy's blade

    (each one worse than the previous)

    fell in a rhythmic order, one that your silence

    carried in. did you hate me?

    you'd never say so. so blindly, i never changed.

  • sunday nights

    sunday nights are my own.

    old music in the corners of my mind

    pen scratches on paper, ten thousand poems

    two hundred and seventy-two

    little golden lights, 4 walls

    that mirror my soul.