Your Boathouse

Your Boathouse

Archive #21 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's note: Hi guys! Back to poems, hope you enjoy this one :)

Your Boathouse

I feel so close, and yet so far; I fear that my voice is caught behind the door. Latched to the door knob, panic strikes in me again; I struggle too hard, not finding my balance. Everything around me shakes except for the hard slam of the door.

I feel your warmth in my arms, But I feel so empty in the imaginary embrace. Through the door's window, I can see you on the other side. But can I, really? I hear the sound of waves crashing against the door; I wish I could just merely whisper to you: "Open the door," But I'm met with echoes of a key clicking, locking the question away. Silence as an answer serves as the final act of deliverance.

But why not?

Do you fear that the currents will send me away? Exertion is my strategy when it comes to connection; I long for you in my curious nature, the odd attraction draws me closer.

We know that we swim in different boats, But I'm willing to swim against the currents To sit in your boat for a little while. Leaving my ship unattended moments at a time, Back and forth each day from my boat to yours. My legs willingly carrying the burden of shame, My desperation in attempts of calming my inner child As you feed it glimpses of affection.

Somedays I fear that I may not have a boat to return to. How did I stray so far that I return back to the beginning? Looking through a glass window; a pigeon at heart. How many times do I slam against the glass Before I tell apart reality and my delusions? Would it be my heart or the window to shatter first? Piercing into my soul, breaking down your walls; I fear I only see segments of your cracked window. How long before you let me in through the door?

You let me onto your boat, But I only feel welcomed for so long Before you nudge me to swim with the flow. I'm young, through and through, But I still feel older than everyone I am surrounded by.

Am I a mere fish to your personification? An easy catch before throwing me back into the water? My lungs don't expand in your environment, But I saw the sun through your life. Returning to the water, it is darker down here. Sunlight is seen as a disadvantage when trying to hide in the big blue, But light is seen as an advantage in pure darkness.

Down in the depths, Are you just another anglerfish? At least consume my entire being, rather than just getting a taster. I can hold you, but for only a few forbidden moments.

One day, I will return to my boat, But only driftwood would be left for me. I dug this grave in this wooden pile, Splitters and all, As a reminder of my priorities. I raise my strained hand in longed hesitance.

Knock knock

The deathly silence leaves me slow dancing with my thoughts in the dark. The voices, they mock at my repetition. I fall beyond tired, Exhaustion is my excuse as the final act of deliverance. My legs cannot handle the weight of shame any longer.

I float above water, but the sun is too bright for my water skin. Sighing in my sleep, empty from your ghostly embrace. As I sink further into the depths, I raise my head to stare at your sunlight through the watery cracked window; You can't hear my knocks from here.

Let's

Archive #18 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's Note: hey, didn't I tell you to let go? (enjoyy)

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Let's

Paint me, Like I have never seen art before. If I didn't know what beauty was, How would you describe it to me? I don't know what love is, The affection is confusing. Language is spoken through the absorption of emotion. If it sinks into my skin, Would I make you uncomfortable? If it was lingering in the air, Would you hold your breath?

Thousands of thoughts and not one original, To my sane and reflection. Does our heart sync when I crush My feelings into crested moons? Is love pain? What is pain? Would you show me if I had asked for it? If hoarding became my plate, Would you still feed me?

Let me, Let me go, Let me love, Let me suffer, Let me love, Let me go, Let me.

Sweet nothings is my addiction, Would you whisper into my deaf ear? Sing me good night when I cry. "Just because" Do I crave you or the imagination Giving me what I want through magic and wishes. I want you to read my mind, Living in there gets tiring. I wish you knew what I want, Is it hard to want more than just the bare? Minimum? What is the bare minimum? Magic is not real and so is my perception. Language is my addiction. Would you let me love?

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Pinewood

Archive #22 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's note: short one this one, but hope you enjoy!

Pinewood

---

We are nothing at all.

...

...

But,

I would still answer your call, Even if it was in the middle of the night, 10 past five in the morning, And you're in trouble.

I would drop the world that I cup in my hands to save you from the dark. But when I'm alone and it gets cold, And I asked you for matches, You don't even lend me one.

You say that my cheeks are red so I must be warm, But I'm sick of bleeding to stain their appearance.

If I was the last tree standing in a snowy embrace of forever winter, Would you still chop me down even if I provided you with shelter?

You're cold, you complain; I'm tired, I don't say.

Even as a strong tree, I will never get to see the day where my leaves welt, and my trunk's spirals are too many to count. For my roots will stay clinging to the soil,

While my branches' ashes are coughed out

From your lungs into the cold,

Still air.

Being Vegan

Archive #23 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's note: yep... this one is definitely more intense than the rest. So it definitely deserves a debrief. Debrief: NSFW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I don't wanna be cancelled thank u). Warnings: gore, mentions of cannibalism, torture, strong imaginary. Probably 16+ MINIMUM. Anyway happy meal lmao

Being Vegan

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I'm thirsty,

drowning in the sea of blood.

None of that quenches me, none of it satisfies me.

Fuck,

I'm so thirsty.

I need a beating heart,

a live one.

I'm hungry,

A pile of organs at my disposal, cursing me with famine.

Your heart on my platter,

I devour it whole like a cowardly beast whose starved beyond saving.

Starved?

I'm so starved.

Hold me,

for all the love in the world, hold me.

You are my last meal on death row, my last moments in heaven.

My bones ache at the emptiness I feel,

My marrow sucked dry from the greedy.

I wear your bite marks in my flesh like a jewel, a crown to behold.

The hunger never subsides, your skin never healed.

If I bore my eyes out for you,

Would you see your starved reflection as you stare?

Forget all olives that reside in your gardens,

Use them,

My eyeballs,

Pickled for your drinks.

I do not wish to waste,

For I will grow sick if I consume rotten meat.

But it is hard not to admire such beauty that your anatomy frames.

And I cannot refrigerate you, it will ruin the taste.

…

…

…

Am I going crazy?

This is beyond lust, beyond hunger.

For I cannot see a world without your eyes sewn shut.

Is this lifetime not for me?

I do not wish to be another guinea-pig, a test subject for-

A play,

An orchestra,

A script,

A role.

You are my crime, my will to live.

My bones ache because my sensitive teeth make me wince,

Sinking into your flesh,

Chipping my canines from biting into your hip bone.

I want to saw my skull in half,

Detach half of my brain,

and place one of your halves to fill the void.

I want to clench a fistful of your hair,

staring into your hollow eye sockets.

Does bruised skin taste different from fair skin?

I'm finished, I cannot move on.

Your nails dig into my intestines, twisting them to make me gag.

For gods sake, stop tormenting me.

I would devour you in a heartbeat,

But you would rather savour me;

My rotting flesh,

Cursing your tongue.

Are you not afraid of hunger, you starved animal?

Bite me, rip me, end me.

For I will love you, a thousand times over,

If it means I will have the last bite.

Dead muse

Archive #28 | copyright to saturnsfairycat

Author's note: this one literally just came to me while I was in the middle of a conversation with @raccoonboy321 on instagram lmao what - anyway enjoy!

Dead Muse

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I wrote so much about you, my poetry on the walls, and scattered across my room.

I know so much about you, words can only be used as personifications because simplicity is absentminded in your presence.

I read into it too deep, I forget to drop the pen sometimes and my hand cramps up in the same position for the longest of times.

Too sore to stretch out my worn fingers, too hesitant to stop.

What if I forget you? How else am I supposed to remember you?

The feeling of pain is exhilarating as I scratch bloody ink onto paper, dizzy from all the emotions, it spills out in splotches instead of brainstorms.

I get overwhelmed by all the ways to describe you, my imagination runs wild at the thought of moments we can share together.

Can? Or did?

Wait,

Did that even happen?

I forcefully pause as I stare at my writing,

They are just words, nothing more.

I glance down at my bloody fingers in confusion,

What were you like? I don't remember.

But I wrote it down—

Fuck,

I don't remember if that was how you are as a person, or if that's how I wanted you to be.

I thought I knew you, but we barely even held eye contact long enough for you to see my inky tears.

I thought I wrote a lot about you, but all these words— these words are merely personifications of how absentminded you are.

The emotions are so strong, because the blood that draws from where my pen scratches into my own skin are the words.

I don't even remember the last time you smiled at me.

"He smiles at me every time he sees me."

I don't even remember the last time I saw him.

Words, on my pieces of paper.

Useless.

And still on my walls,

And scattered across my floors;

Haunting my simplicity

As my hand stays in the same position,

Throughout this whole time.

...why must it be a prince?

Archive #19 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's Note: holy shit?? It's been a while since we have seen an archive. This one is a small short that I wrote for @v-for-venus, so hope y'all enjoy!

....why must it be a prince?

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"My princess!"

A second set of foot steps echoed through the empty corridor. I stop in my tracks, glass heels clicking against each other. I close my eyes for a second, forcing myself to not turn around. Taking in a breath, I click my tongue as I shot back.

"You address me as 'Your Highness', Knight."

The footsteps halted, the slight creaking of iron was the only thing heard for a couple of seconds. I tried my best to not fidget with my hands, as it was "very unlady-like" according to other kingdoms. I couldn't deal with this right now. Why aren't they saying anything? I need to go to the meeting roo--

"So, is that what you want me to call you in bed, Your Hig-" "Enough!"

I turned around, glaring at the smirking knight. Their soft curly hair, their soft lips, their smooth skin, their beautiful eyes-- stop with the distractions. It was getting hard to ignore the rapid heartbeats I was experiencing, the blood rushing into my head making me slightly dizzy as I force myself to not give in.

"I don't have time for this, I am your Queen now, which means you're not my personal knight anymore. I don't need to associate with you all the time." "But you want to, no?"

Irritated, jealous of their boldness in such a situation-- why must they make this difficult? I walk up to them, heels swift and arm reaching out to grab at the scarf I had made them not so long ago. Thumb pressing against their cute chin while I look down at their kneeling state. Why am I so ticked off, anyway? I have always been told from ever since I could remember that I will get the prince of my dreams, and yet… I don't want to go to the meeting. The meeting is suppose to be the most important cue in my current royal life, I will be introduced to the 'love of my life', and yet…

"Listen to your heart, Princess."

I sigh, my face softens as I realise what my destiny has truly lead me to. I cannot fight it forever.

I look into their eyes, the ones I love waking up to in secrecy. My lips open in a strained relief.

"….You're my prince, the love of my life."