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seeking softness in the end of the world we knew

from \\ S O F T W I N G S // by Annie Hex

/

lyrics

I want lip gloss that matches the pink and gold wallpaper here.
I want roses, lavender ice cream, and to love you
in a way that makes me feel free.
I want to be little spooned by the world.

I hot glue the sole of my shoe back on,
overturn a brick in spring,
only place it back down on the wet earth
when all the millipedes have slithered away.

I burn photographs of my exes,
bury the ashes in my backyard.
I ward their spirits off with sage and palo santo.
repeat, I reject love like this.
love like this. love like this. love like this.

I hope for blue skies and love that does not need permission.

I seek sweetness and home,
forgiveness for the lost girl
still learning how to navigate
loneliness and the fog.

I honor this heartbreak that erupts from tenderness.
I soothe myself but let my friends hold me now tighter than before.

So when she offered me feminist lit before bed,
I took it because her love was pure.

Her love was like the first time you opened a mason jar
to free a lightning bug because you didn’t want it to die in there-
Don’t let me die in this fear or in fear that is not wholly mine.

I once pressed my ear up to his chest and in that moment, I didn’t feel afraid anymore.
I forgot what if felt like to be so close to someone that you hear the beating of their heart.
I held him tighter and listened wine drunk. I listened to what it said, later stole his flannel
with blue ink stains that write his soul back to wholeness. He is softer than I remember.


I hope for a world where vulnerability comes with less shame.
I hope for a world of people who let go of lightning bugs
and who come closer. press into your paper heart
like petals from flowers you picked that only said,
I love you. I love you. I love you.

You press flowers into your grandmother’s photo album
like your cheek into his chest when you last held him,
press gently in a way that makes you feel free.
You pick flower petals not because you question who loves you
but because you love yourself and your tenderness,
the poems in your iPhone notes and the notes in all your favorite books
that tell you to keep going even when you are scared, lonely.

See, even on days when I am the lightning bug trapped in the mason jar,
when my body becomes this cage that he pulls me out of by my achilles’ tendons
when I am cut open on stage or crying through my cateye sunglasses on the cta,
when I can no longer hold my shadow by its leash,
I still will not let this clay body harden.

When the world is unlike anything we knew,
I will still seek softness over sweetness.
I will keep my ear to his chest. I will stay close.
I will let my shadow go where it needs to,
I will die an open jar poet, weaving my life
open, soft, and holy. Mine.

credits

from \\ S O F T W I N G S //, released July 29, 2017

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Annie Hex Chicago, Illinois

improvisational spoken word poet
creating work that is sparkly & biting, leaving it in unexpected places across america.

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