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Telka
in love with words <3
191 Posts • 255 Followers • 221 Following
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Telka in Poetry & Free Verse

enjoying things as they are

my defenses are melting, like sugar over tea

i have a one-way ticket to every sappy young woman’s dream,

so i’m closing my eyes and enjoying it,

enjoying things as they are.

the baby’s breath you bought me, are drying by my bed

you’d think I’d throw those things away by now, but I like the reminder of you instead,

so i’m closing my eyes and enjoying it.

enjoying things as they are.

the warmth of your care and the warmth of your heart

i’d sit with your in silence, i’d hold you in the stars

and i’m closing my eyes to enjoy it,

enjoying things as they are.

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Telka in Poetry & Free Verse

stepping stone

i’m the stepping stone to your radiant future

the guilty figment of your past,

you covet me gently in guilty arms

while you tip the hourglass

i’m the encyclopedia of your soul

i worship the divine libraries of your mind,

burdened with your words engraved in gold

& films of tarnished memories i can’t turn blind

i don’t take your blasé disposition lightly

and i’ll hate myself vehemently in the desolate silence of your pauses,

but to feel the soft spark your presence enflames

i’ll be home soon my love, and undermine the causes

wrap my deep wounds in your flimsy bandaids

your bullets are comforting and sweet,

she’s everything i long for when i look in the mirror

she’s the dream-laced standard i couldn’t beat.

i was the stepping stone to your radiant future

now the guilty figment of your past,

my broken heart trapped in sunset amber

wishing you told me i was replaceable.

wishing you told me i was never meant to last.

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Telka in Poetry & Free Verse

unwatered heart

the fairytale of being yours

is merely an echo of an unwatered heart

and though your words drench me in hot apple cinnamon

the meaning is quick to depart.

the ”I love you’s” are soft, but unforgiving

your love waits, i linger desperately

warm by the fire, but only an object of desire

clinging to what used to be me.

my fulfillment was mindful artistry

now it’s serving myself on a platter

your adoration fit snug in my pocket

flattery that achingly mattered.

my words are tainted with dramatic irony

knowing how the story will always end

as i hold onto you for the “very last time”

over and over again.

the fairytale of being yours

is merely an echo of an unwatered heart

i sip on our memories fondly

i place down the glass to start.

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Telka

sunshine vaccine

the sunshine that once was

was tubed in a plastic vaccine

injected forcefully

by the hands of a mass movie scene

until their eyes were awake

to sunflowers and cranberry perfume

you had smiled at the people

but it felt like no one smiled at you

so you went back for an extra dose of cheer

maybe this time it will be you they will hear

maybe you’ll forget the pain

it could last for a year or a day

and you’ll forget all the sad parts

as the genuine slowly wastes away.

too bad all the organic laughter was lost.

too bad the whole world has to pay the cost.

but look at us now, we’re smiling.

regret underneath keeps piling.

the sunshine that once was

was tubed in a plastic vaccine

now injected by choice

as they decided

they’d rather not be seen.

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Telka

sucks

it sucks to know you didn’t suck

the whole time I thought you did.

turns out you’re a stand alone character

like a gmo pure boy hybrid.

unattached by gnarly roots underground

holding formalities and filters galore

you send me glances across vacant masks

a rainbow when life’s a bore

it just sucks i know that now

now that it’s much too late

that i passed you with uniform judgement

when you were one to appreciate.

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Telka

blue-collar father, white-collar son

After an endless day of working in the miserable heat, Russell drives his son, John, to a quiet area just off the road where he would be picked up to go to a prestigious state university. The silence filled the muggy air surrounding them as the rundown, hefty truck slowly inched to a stop, and they both, without speaking, headed out to unload the luggage as their beloved dog, Buddy, pranced happily behind. When the last suitcase was carried out, Russell plopped down lazily on the running board, John sitting up straight beside him as they gazed at the blank space around them, determined to avoid eye contact.

Although the environment was undoubtedly uncomfortable, Russell caught a glimpse of his dashing son, dressed properly in a pristine white suit on the brink of his college career, and couldn’t help but be proud. He glanced down at his blue-collar work uniform, stained with the frustrations that came with his years of labor, and knew in his heart he did it all for this moment, all for John. His son now has the opportunity to be a white-collar man in a white-collar world.

“So, uhh.. how you feelin’ about all of this John,” Russell grumbled in a deep tone that was difficult to understand.

“Good, good,” John muttered back softly.

“Good,” Russell mumbled, continuing to stare into space. He wasn’t one for talking.

Buddy skipped to where the two were sitting and put his head solemnly on John’s leg, as if to say ‘goodbye’.

To ease the tension, Russell popped in a cigarette from his pocket, thinking about his own future, thinking about the great things his son would accomplish. John heard it first - the rumble of his ride coming into view - he popped up his head to look at it, quickly realizing the newfound respect, class, and honor that was coming his way.

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Telka

Monday

listen to the chimes of the wind

as they sing to you

Monday

Monday

Monday

the bells of the whistles

every blossom every thistle sways to

Monday

Monday

Monday

The air senses you’re feeling down

The sun rains down to you tomorrow, smiling

Monday

Monday

Monday

Today is your day prove it to the

Bumble bees, green grasses, waterfalls cheering

Monday

Monday

Monday

It’s just another day, with an unbreakable stigma

Start of a routine, start of something exciting and new

Monday

Monday

Monday

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Telka

eye contact

it stings, burns wildly

an accidental glimpse at the sun

dart pupils away quick, swiftly

a habit, a reflex to encounter none

survival of the frickin fittest

i feel their gaze looming sideways

i stare down at a black screen of nothingness

(Act natural, scrolling as if to say - “hey that’s cool” - pathetically played)

i would rather look at

the dusty concrete

the mocking screen of “no notifications”

and my own two feet than

look up!

look up!

just look at them! wave! look up!

no thanks.

and then they’re gone.

i am myself, a talking embarrassment

i fear the attention i would attract

so i stare at the abiotic vast spaces

too anxious about making

EYE CONTACT.

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Telka

deadly butterflies in her stomach

go to sleep, go to sleep

afraid of day and night

anxiety burns, broken ash

lost of sense, blinded sight

sunset orange butterflies

flittering folded wings

habitat of a pitted stomach

the lovely nightmare sings

eyes tinted bloody red, cracks

under shields of wrinkled lids

she tries to float to dreamland

keeps replaying what she did.

hearts pounding, brains taunting

the knife she held the day he died -

no one knows, a secret for herself

but how long could she hide?

...

go to sleep, go to sleep

afraid of day and night

anxiety burns, broken ash

lost of sense, blinded sight

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Telka

dreaming on clouds

baby pink soft sugary spirals

silk puffs in blueberry air

i breath in woolen warm wind

out comes sleepy promises

sent with love and care.