Author: Chainka
let’s go back to your old house for Christmas Eve
i wanna see how the lights in your room surrender to grief
and then quietly die when you tell them to leave
we could lay on your little childhood’s bed
tell what we always wanted to, and then not remember a thing that we’ve said
you’ve got a way of reciting, it makes me so sad
every time when you speak of your dad
and i want to tell you i’m sorry, but then, i’ve never had
i’ve never had
let’s go back to your house in George’s Hill
i wanna learn where you learnt to punish and kill
they promise a lot of snow there this year, i could make angels and snowmen
and you could shoot them
until we both would feel empty
baby, i wanna know who taught you how to ruin gently
who taught you how to ruin gently?
i wanna go
(i wanna go)
to places
(to places)
to your favorite store
and i, i wanna leave a couple of traces (traces)
to mask (to heal) your scars
tell me your favorite places, where they are?
i wanna know
(i wanna know)
everything that you hide
(if you wish to be mine)
all of the corners of your beautiful soul
and your brilliant mind
there’s some kind of magic that i don’t seem to get
why does it feel like i know you if we’ve never met?
why does it feel like i know you if we’ve never met?
drive me around the block
you get so upset back at home we don’t ever talk
watching the sun disappear in the fog
your mom’s preparing turkey, you want to play the wishbone
won’t tell it for now, but you gotta know
i’d already given you the longer ending
baby,
who taught you how to ruin gently?
who taught you how to ruin gently?
had a contest, counted how many times a day
we would say
“i love you”,
you got two and i got twenty
baby,
who taught you how to ruin gently?
who taught you how to ruin gently?
huh?
trying to heal you
i am trying to heal you, still
i know i never will
the air is thick, naked and intense
told you George’s Hill is like Prague and you said “you’re always looking for the reference”
you’re always looking for the reference
huh
huh
let’s go back to your old house
(let’s go back to your old house)
i want to read through every your diary entry
don’t know who taught you,
but baby,
you taught me how to ruin gently
you taught me how to ruin gently
promised me we would go back to George’s Hill
but we never will
i know better, we never will
i know better, we never will
i know better, we never will
About the poet:
Chainka is a Ukrainian writer and poet whose work traces the fault lines of human emotion—where tenderness meets devastation, and survival learns to speak in metaphors. Writing since childhood, she has developed a voice marked by emotional precision, lyrical intensity, and an unflinching gaze into sadness, longing, and resilience.
Displaced by war in 2022, Chainka turned writing into both refuge and resistance. Her poetry and prose navigate the fragile intersections of war and peace, love and loss, faith and fracture. Through intimate, often haunting imagery, she explores what it means to remain human when the world insists on breaking you.