tiny clouds
Hannah Lyllith Newcomer
Copyright © 2013 Hannah Lyllith Newcomer
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
For Isaiah
Table of Contents
Coffee colored irises
[and so]
[hemingway said]
i can see a lot of life in you
i decide to hide my heart with you
[i keep you in between]
[i love]
[i think we all remember]
intersect
moonlight in my hands
old bones
[on the inside of my eyelids]
[on the outside]
[our wild nights were more than wild]
permafrost
[sometimes these words]
tiny clouds
too old for this
vice grip
you are not the simply made
you’re dead but i still love you
your fading splendor
Coffee colored irises
his eyes weren’t anything
special; but i actually like
brown eyes and i thought
his were beautiful. and for
the longest time his hair was
down to his shoulders, covering
his eyes
and he shaved his head
that summer
but his hair slowly grew back.
when it got long enough it was
shaggy and had curls at the
very ends
i remember he held my
hand for the first time;
he asked- i said yes-
and when we touched
i felt a spark;
my heart started beating
and it never stopped
but his did.
[and so]
And so I told him
“I don’t think I can do this anymore
because it only hurts my
soul.
I want my relationships to fit together
like folded hands
not one night stands
and to
mean something.”
And so I watched him drive away,
not waiting for me to get in the door
not waiting to see if I would cry
not waiting to watch my face fall
as I realized that I had been right
after all
And so I let the pieces of my heart
crumble and crack like the
Berlin wall in 1989
(well, physically 1990)
but metaphorically is all I really need
because that’s what hurts more,
I think
[hemingway said]
hemingway said
“writing is easy; you just sit
down at a typewriter and bleed.”
if that’s true, i want to slit my
wrist and bleed all over
this page.
i want my blood to
show you
the things i feel
the words i know
the life i lead.
so look at the
blood on this page
and drink it.
i can see a lot of life in you
i can see a lot of life in you,
unlike myself;
lifeless but still alive.
and they say that one day
this pain will make sense to me,
but i don’t see that day coming at all.
there is no light at the end of
the tunnel, no life after death.
no heaven, or hell, or god.
but i can see a lot of life in you,
does it come from somewhere,
or is it just you?
i decide to hide my heart with you
i hide my heart in all the wrong places;
in my chest and on my sleeve.
i hide it in a box that keeps it safe and
clean, but closed off from joy.
i hide it behind layers and layers of
pain, and darkness, and grief.
but it leaves my heart so sad and
lacking life and joy (which a heart needs).
so i decide to hide my heart with you,
because you will hold it and cherish it,
give it love and protect it from all the pain
that you can.
i decide to hide my heart with you,
because then it's not really hiding.
[i keep you in between]
i keep you in between my
mattress and box springs
(like people used to do with
their money)
because you’re worth so much
to me,
but i don’t think people t(old)ell you
enough.
they do(did)n’t tell you that
you ha(d)ve beautiful eyes that can
see right into the soul,
or how nimble and quick your
hands a(we)re,
and that when you smile(d)
it i(wa)s like the sky opening up
after a rainstorm.
and I know it’s a Little late nOw-
better late than neVEr-
but i thought YOU would like to
know anyways.
[i love]
i love
cigarettes and coffee.
their bitterness
compliments each other,
and makes my life
seem less bitter.
because i can sit at a coffee
shop on a beautiful morning
drinking and breathing bitterness,
but still see the sun and
hear the birds and in my
heart feel joy
despite the bitterness.
[i think we all remember]
i think we all remember
the last snow day we had
(it was three years ago)
because it was one of the
most beautiful things we had
ever seen.
the snowflakes caught in our
hair and our eyelashes and
melted on our tongues.
and you and i,
we held hands so tight
our pulses were in time.
it was all we could do to
not spontaneously combust
like the sky seemed to have done.
intersect
i find beauty in odd things.
the way the lines intersect
(crossing each other like
people on a sidewalk)
on the palm of someone’s
hand (making eye contact,
then continuing on their
seperate ways, but changed
forever).
moonlight in my hands
i grasp the sky and
come back with a
handful of stars but
you say it’s not enough.
so i go back and return with
moonlight slipping through my
fingers;
just like you did.
old bones
my skeleton is nothing but a
prison; twisting and turning in
ways i thought weren’t possible.
i am nothing but a slave to these
bones. they beg for desperate
things, for empty thin
gs that
have no meaning.
these things are carved from
my marrow, from these old
bones that are only full of
lust.
[on the inside of my eyelids]
on the inside of my eyelids
i see my past fly by like
a drive in movie
stuck on fast-forward until
the very end
when the screen is black
and the parking lot gets
real quiet.
and in the quiet i can hear
your love,
reaching out to me from the
other side of town
[on the outside]
on the outside he was this
mysterious
aloof and
sarcastic
boy-
young man-
but on the inside i think he was
screaming.
for what,
i’m not sure.
maybe
help or
love.
or both.
and we tried-
god, we tried-
but sometimes that isn’t
enough
i guess.
[our wild nights were more than wild]
our wild nights were more than wild,
they were beautiful and whole
and full of a quintessential anticipation
that kept us moving forward.
we felt each other, and
found each other.
finally understanding how we
fit together.
but the night always ends
and gives way to the morning
sun, and the dawn left us
wondering who we truly were.
permafrost
I look and see that there
aren’t any flowers.
Unusual for this time of year.
There’s nothing
in the field anymore.
But it’s spring.
Spring, already.
The winter was a harsh, cold one.
It left its frost covering all of us.
Not even the sun could melt it.
Our hearts are frozen now.
Much like the ground.
Permafrost never melts, you know.
[sometimes these words]
sometimes these words
make my heart
ache
and i feel it crumbling
into little, tiny
pieces.
so there is dust where
my heart should
be and
it blows around in my
chest and lungs;
becoming life
tiny clouds
i’m sitting at that coffee shop—
the one we used to sit at all the time,
the one right next to school—
and the smoke from my cigarette
floats in the wind; and they look like
tiny clouds and only exist
for a moment.
that moment is the same amount of
time it takes me to
blink, and when i do,
all i see is you.
and you’re sitting in the
metal chair next to me and you’re
still so beautiful and you reach out to
hold my hand and when i feel your
skin on mine my heart
beats faster and love flows through my
body like the wind in the trees—
only more permanent, like a
perpetual wind.
but when i open my eyes
i’m left with the bittersweet taste
of nostalgia.
too old for this
i went back to the spot where
we first met and i remembered.
i remembered heart beats and
your big brown eyes; looking at me
as if i were something new.
and i guess i was.
and i remember that was years ago,
when we were young and in love,
when we believed in everything and
nothing at the same time.
and then i remember that i’m standing
in a school hallway by myself,
looking very out of place because
i’m too old for this.
vice grip
you sat one seat away from me
and then made me scoot over
so i would be closer to you.
and you held my hand
and i held yours back with
the vice grip i always used
because i didn’t want you to go.
but you got out of the car
and walked in your front door
and i never saw you again.
you are not the simply made
you are not the simply made;
not just thrown together from
leftover scraps of paper and
colored paint.
you are the fire’s flame,
the wind’s sweet breath,
and the ocean’s last tear;
all put together for some reason.
you’re dead but i still love you
Dear Isaiah,
you left while the rest of us stayed-
well some of us did-
and it took out huge chunks of our
hearts.
when i drew a picture for my art
class of a heart with a black spot,
that i indicated as yours,
my teacher said that
“one day that spot won’t be so black.”
and of course she was right.
and i can’t watch “titanic” without
crying, partially because i’m a girl,
and partially because jack’s last
monologue always sounds like
you’re talking to me.
so i promise that i will survive,
no matter what happens,
no matter how hopeless,
and i promise that i will
never let go.
Yours always,
Hannah
your fading splendor
nothing can bring you back.
not the flowers or the grass,
not even the stars.
but we will remember your
spirit and your light and warmth.
we will mourn you but for an hour;
finding strength in each other and
ourselves, in your memory and
in the promise of our future.