H,
I think we’re at war right now.
I’m not really sure —
we never were too good at clear conversation —
but I think we’re at war.
And it’s not that I want to do this,
but I’ve sent out the first wave of attacks.
They should arrive tonight, around 11.
I’m sorry.
You just love too much.
I can’t sleep,
I can’t think,
I can’t do my job;
I had to do something.
Please don’t think I wanted this.
Please.
I know you don’t mean to do it.
But I need this.
He needs this.
And after all,
that’s what we both want right?
For him to be happy?
It’s the only way.
And who knows,
maybe you’ll win this one.
You always were a fighter.
Maybe this letter will reach you before they do.
Maybe you’ll come out on top.
And if you do, just promise me one thing.
Take care of him.
Make sure he doesn’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Try not to break him, the way she breaks you.
With love,
B.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
I've been practicing lucid dreaming for a while now, and I think I've almost got it down.
(If you didn't know, lucid dreaming is kind of like dreaming, but with the lights on. It's very cool.)
The way it works -- or at least, in the method I'm using -- is by first establishing a "totem." I use the jade elephant you gave me for my birthday three days before it happened.
What you do is you alter your totem in a unique way so that it really stands out to you, incase you ever come across it in your dreams; this way hopefully it will jump-shock your mind into consciousness, allowing you to take the wheel.
I wrote your initials on the back. DN.
And I know you'd probably be thinking "why would you ever waste time perfecting a skill that will never have any practical use?"
You always were the practical one. But hear me out.
When I dream, it is the only time I get to see you.
You know, you've been gone for almost a year this Tuesday, and this jade elephant is all I have left. This jade elephant, and your initials. This Jade elephant, and DN.
I miss you, man.
And I don't really know how comas work, but if you can hear me, just know that I've almost got it down.
Soon, it'll be just like the old days.
I promise.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
She's like the first thirty minutes
After a nice massage.
Tranquil.
Reassuring.
The kind of girl
Who loves to cross my mind
Just as much as she hates to look both ways.
And most days,
She wears a smile miles wide.
But that is only most days.
Some days,
She puts on her thick glassy frames
Not so that she can see more of the world,
But so that the world can see less of her.
Some days,
She would rather leave
Her mental house party
For a walk
Down her hometown avenue,
Letting the streetlights
Carve a new way home.
Those are my favorite days.
And those are the days
That matter the most.
Because those are the days
When she calls me.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Mind in transit,
Wandering the city with a subway heart.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
What my life would be like
If I had never met you.
Not in a spiteful way,
Just out of curiosity.
Would a new name replace
The space
You've reserved between my lips? Or would I still be out there,
Counting time
Between the ticks of my metal detector?
Do you remember the metal detector?
You know,
I always was a treasure hunter.
I don't think I ever told you this but,
Before we met,
I modified it a bit.
I was tired of lugging it around,
So I put it in my heart.
This way,
I had nothing weighing me down.
I used that ****** thing for years.
After a while, though,
I got tired of metal.
I only ever found scraps, anyway.
So I modified it a bit more.
Honestly,
I barely made it out of that one intact,
But it was worth it.
This time, I was looking for love.
I don't want to run this tangent
Into the ground,
But I guess what I really want to know is
Would my heart ever beat that fast again?
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
You never touch me.
Why is that?
Is my skin layered in poison?
Sometimes, I think that might be it.
That, with contact
My demons will jump the static charge
Into the grooves of your fingertips,
Spreading cell by cell
Until you are consumed.
I think that is why you never touch me.
Or maybe it is fear.
I can understand that.
What if I take your message
Through rose-colored frames?
Will I become another knee-bound beggar
You refuse change?
Will you regret it?
Maybe that is the reason.
The truth is,
I just want our physical connection
To be as strong as the bridge
We've built between our minds.
I want you to touch me.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:13 AM UTC
Her mind is an observatory.
A really fun one. You know,
With rock candy at the entrance,
And a gift shop full of unique keepsakes.
Like compassion.
And warmth.
And when you step inside,
Her constellations are painted upon the dome ceiling,
Telling a story only visible
To those willing to connect the dots.
A story of glowing blues
And scattered specks
Of burning red,
With a dark void
Occupying the gaps
You so desperately wish to fill.
She has an entire solar system
Inside of her,
Hidden within the stars.
A heart as gold as the sun.
A soul as old as she wants.
And when she speaks,
You fall in love.
Because you don't have a choice.
Her voice echoes amphetamines
Along the walls of my skin.
Her smile shines
Like the crooked panels
On every straight paved sidewalk
I've ever known.
And when I look into her eyes,
The universe stares back.
I think she's a goddess.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC