Celestial vivacity; a common misconception.
We write odes and sonnets to glorify the speckled sky.
It's not the romanticized effervescent glow that consumes me, it's the preceding invisible chaos.
When I say you remind me of the stars, I'm not referring to a sublte glow, one the same as the next, soft and graceful. That's not you.
You are infinite, scorching luminosity, passionate hearth with a vindication of incandescent eternity.
You see, you saw the stars for the story they told and appreciate each particle of gas and dust that gave us the option for passive freedom to glance at these historical records of meticulous detail and chance, in our ever changing interstellar medium.
My ode is this-- do not glance passively at the night sky. Instead reach for each piece of the collapsing core of our stars, clasp it into your palms and appreciate holding both creation and destruction in all absoluteness.
May 6, 2022
May 6, 2022 at 1:17 PM UTC
Most days I am too gentle for the violence of living.
Rust red droplets felt so vicotorious at the time-- Envisioning valor.
Mount Olympus eruption at my herosim.
Serenity in adrenaline.
Until the fibers of my tissue struggle back together in holy matrimony, begging for salvation from a drugstore razor blade.
There is no honor in waging wars against your own flesh,
and I am no Athena.
May 6, 2022
May 6, 2022 at 11:41 AM UTC
I want to be known by you
I want every inch of my broken and shattered soul to be expertly explored and analyzed by you
I want you to disappear with the knowledge that nobody else possesses
because then at least I know it wasn't for lack of effort
don't let me be gone
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
it hasn't even happened yet and I feel the weight of your absence pressing on my chest
I've never been one for attachment and now I understand why
because to care too deeply is the emotional equivalent of Russian roulette
but this time they are all filled with bullets
and I seem to be winning this round
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
when I was three years old, I sat at my grandmothers front door on Christmas Day and waited
and waited and waited and waited
and waited and waited
and waited
for the beat up blue mustang of yours to rattle it's way up the driveway.
but it never showed.
which soon became a habit of yours.
you didn't show me how to walk or talk or tie my shoes or tame my messy hair
and you didn't show me how to put on eyeliner in such a way that I wouldn't resemble a raccoon and you didn't show me that plaid on plaid doesn't mix and you didn't show me that bows should never be in your hair past the fifth grade
but all of that is not why I hate you
I hate you because you didn't show me that boys don't have the right to my body
and you didn't show me that my opinion matters
and you didn't show me that sometimes and iced coffee really is the key to fixing your day and you didn't show me that no matter how many times he told me I look like **** in a ponytail, I certainly do not.
you didn't show me how to forgive and you most certainly didn't show me how a healthy relationship works. you didn't show me how to love others and you certainly never showed me how to love myself
because every time I force myself to take a look in that reflective coating, I see your hair and your jaw line and your god forsaken freckles and I find pieces of you in my six mile legs and I hear you in my full lips
and I absolutely hate it
because you of all people do not deserve to be prominent in my life, yet you've found a way to force yourself into existence, you're nothing more than a leech and that's all you've ever been.
you leech onto highs and broken men who break me beyond measure, you leech into any substance you can find, on ****** reassurance, on the hope that maybe one day you'll be better, but maybe that day should be post-poked, because it's a crime in itself to waste a good time.
but when it comes down to it I guess you did teach me something.
you showed me that some people simply won't change, and some people don't deserve forgiveness. some people are ****** into this vast vortex of immeasurable selfishness, and that addictions can be self-inflicted.
so thank you.
I pray that one day i muster up the strength to show you what you've done to me, mommy dearest.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 12:48 AM UTC
we are predestined to believe that circumstances arrive that cannot possibly be remedied but after all I'm just a broken girl and I've lived through hell, but words are just words, and people are just people, and it's about time I stop believing they are anything more than that
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
and the most terrifying part of this
is that you are coursing through my veins and overtaking my thoughts in rapid succession and at any given moment you could just
leave
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
you, my love, resemble rain
sporadic and full of deadly potential
a downpour of passion or a sprinkle of melancholy tendencies
yet somehow calming and innocent
humbling in the purest form
and terror at its darkest
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
we lie together in a hammock of broken promises and empty compliments
and I wish I could say that your hollow heart beat in the same rhythm it used to
the most it does is break me down in the worst way
but all I want to do is watch you hurt as much as I did
and then stitch you back together
out of habit
do you still dream like you used to?
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC
you single-handedly crushed my big world into a tiny ball and opened it up and called it art.
and I believed you.
because you could tell me that the sky is actually green and clouds are made of tiny people and that trees whisper amongst one another and I'd believe every word.
and that's all well and good and all but that means I have to believe you when you say you love her
and **** does that sting
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC