LJ Idol: Week 2: If It's Any Consolation
Jun. 27th, 2025 08:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I made it to another week. And I'm glad I have this time before I go on vacation to write this.
I'm in my feels about a breakdown in communication in my relationship, and when I saw this week's prompt, it felt like a poem was calling my name for it. I've never written a poem outside of learning about them in school and having to do them for classwork or homework...but here I go.
---
If It’s Any Consolation
We used to speak in shorthand—
a glance, a hand on the small of my back,
the shared weight of silence meaning more
than any poem ever could.
Now, it’s static.
Words tumble like loose screws
from the wreck of our sentences—
I say “You never listen,”
you say “You always assume.”
And if it’s any consolation,
I still dream in the cadence of your voice,
still leave space on the shelf
where your laughter used to live.
I rehearse my apologies
like prayers to a god
I’m not sure still believes in us.
But the distance grew roots,
and we watered them with every misunderstanding,
every "I’m fine" that meant the opposite,
every "Forget it" that should’ve been "Please stay."
And if it’s any consolation—
I miss you in the quiet,
in the spaces between sentences
where love used to breathe.
But maybe
you stopped hearing me
long before I stopped talking.
---
150 words
I'm in my feels about a breakdown in communication in my relationship, and when I saw this week's prompt, it felt like a poem was calling my name for it. I've never written a poem outside of learning about them in school and having to do them for classwork or homework...but here I go.
---
If It’s Any Consolation
We used to speak in shorthand—
a glance, a hand on the small of my back,
the shared weight of silence meaning more
than any poem ever could.
Now, it’s static.
Words tumble like loose screws
from the wreck of our sentences—
I say “You never listen,”
you say “You always assume.”
And if it’s any consolation,
I still dream in the cadence of your voice,
still leave space on the shelf
where your laughter used to live.
I rehearse my apologies
like prayers to a god
I’m not sure still believes in us.
But the distance grew roots,
and we watered them with every misunderstanding,
every "I’m fine" that meant the opposite,
every "Forget it" that should’ve been "Please stay."
And if it’s any consolation—
I miss you in the quiet,
in the spaces between sentences
where love used to breathe.
But maybe
you stopped hearing me
long before I stopped talking.
---
150 words
no subject
Date: 2025-06-27 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-06-27 07:11 pm (UTC)Speaking in shorthand…
This is rich!
no subject
Date: 2025-06-27 11:46 pm (UTC)But the seven lines that begin with that are absolute magic... I'm a life member of the Gulf Coast poets back when that was a thing and I seldom saw anything so powerful. And we had Houston and Texas's poet laureates coming into our little room.
no subject
Date: 2025-06-28 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-06-28 06:46 pm (UTC)My favorite line was, "I still dream in the cadence of your voice,"
Dan
no subject
Date: 2025-06-28 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-06-29 01:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-06-29 03:11 am (UTC)