This Heart, Head, Soul (And I)

I’m looking blind for someday I haven’t heard chime

I’d give up my life– I would swoon life at doorposts

For the lips on the other side of time.

My skull is all empty, battling with ghosts in the time

School takes to be reached, butterflies scared and forgotten hosts

Looking blind, my solipsism is but a dull echo of bell-chimes.

My walls have paused mild-molt, bedposts rotten with grime,

I don’t know my name in my singularity, I search in flickering lamp-posts

For the wish my lips can’t bear to pray for, on the other side of time

I put on earrings and I sing, and I’m truly dancing, mind

Shifting like white sand through graves of the shimmering future coasts,

She looks blind for some pair of eyes she hasn’t quite yet heard chime.

She rots and she flies, fingers smelling of cold thyme

And she tastes like sunlight hazy and breaking, like “almost”s

Almost catching up to the lips on the other side of time,

I’m so alone, like ghosts died lonely, I’m

So much less than what I see in my interiority, close

To looking blind for some self that will never chime,

I keep dancing with the same lips on the other side of time.

Lim Da Hee writes to understand and escape the world. She blends both the magical and gritty in her worldbuilding-heavy works.