Dollhouses & War

The first attempt at proper poetry and the next and the next.
"Not a tea stain, but a rain stain,"
"Does my heart tangle like headphones in a pocket?"
"...mascara tears registers exhilaration under rapid music beats. "
"Love is the only blood we will bleed as / Together we fall into a rainstorm."


2. Heart War



You crack a smile,

A simple smile,

A quirk of lips,

a curve of cheeks,

And my heart doesn’t know what to do.

Should it quicken?

Should it miss a beat, skip over itself in its haste?

Should it stay the same, not give away anything?

It’s in a knot, a tangle

And it hurts in all the right ways.


You chuckle out a burst of laughter,

A firework popping out of open lips,

A rich sound, like dark chocolate on the ears

Something I want to savour and not forget,

Imprint in my mind for as long as my brain will allow.

And my lungs don’t know what to do.

Should they force out my breath, show how amazing it is?

Should they stop, for just a moment, halt like a soldier,

For just a breath?

Should they still work, so that I don’t give anything away?


You look at me, say my name.

I almost don’t expect it.

It rolls of the tongue,



Music doesn’t calm me like this.

Waves don’t call me like this.

But the two syllables are like a tide,



I just want to dive and not think about how deep I sink.


My brain doesn’t know what to do.

Should it short circuit, firing randomly,

Tripping over itself randomly?

Should it race, pour over every time you’ve said it?

Play it over again and again,


A broken record that’s stuck on just that.

I wouldn’t mind that.

But would it give me away?


Our shoulders press together,

Bone against bone,

Skeleton resting against skeleton.

The heat is cooling,

A blanket on the coldest nights.

I could stay pressed in this way for as long as you allow me,

Do you notice this like I do?

Do I give too much away, in this second,


Warm, burning minute?


My whole being doesn’t know what to do.

Is that a good thing?

Does my heart war tangle like headphones in a pocket?

Like wool left free.

Does it wrap around you like a mummy,

Or is it just me? 


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