These words are made of only 26 ******* letters that are just so full of blank spaces and white surroundings and that doesn’t compare to the way your eyes sparkle and your hands dance when you speak and the way your back curves and the goose bumps that covered your body when we sat on a fire escape smoking at 5 am and watching the world wake up. These words are too empty and dulled down by white nothingness for me to describe the way you breathe color and energy or the way your mind rotates around itself in the most beautiful way I’ve ever seen.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
I’ve heard that ‘he’s just a boy get over him’ and I’ve heard that there are ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ but it feels like whenever I go to grab another fish I find you, and here I am grasping your fish carcass in my hand and then I fall into the ocean and I’m afraid of the ocean I can’t remember how to swim I can’t remember anything all I remember is the way your skin felt against mine and the way you breathed my name and promised forever but I guess that was a lie because here I am holding your dead fish carcass and drowning in an abyss of ‘other fish in the sea’ and I want to forget it all but part of me is only alive because of those memories of the way your hair fell or how you smelt of stale cigarettes and bitter coffee and maybe I don’t want another fish maybe I want your carcass to grow skin and all the anatomy I can’t even pretend to understand and I want you to breathe my name but instead you left me for a universe I don’t even know exists. So here I am choking on your name for the rest of my life.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
You used to tell me how much you loved me while you smoked your ******* cigarette illuminated by the moon and then you’d flick the filter and toss it away and it’s taken me until now to realize that I was just one cigarette in a pack of 20 to you and you let me burn out once you were done and then you just tossed me away.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
I remember how your voice sounded in contrast to the radio and how you would hum along to Somewhere Over The Rainbow while you drove and I remember the ******* way you swerved away from a dead raccoon on the street and how your hand got sweaty in mine when you almost missed the sharp turn and I hate remembering and I just want to forget but I can’t. Now you’ve swerved away from me and left me as a dead carcass and I want to reach down my esophagus and pull out my heart but I can’t do that and I hate that you just don’t care and I want to forget you and I want to forget your smell and I just want to ******* forget everything. I don’t want to live like this. I can’t live like this.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
It smells like liquor on the streets you used to kiss me on at 3 am in our drunken shenanigans. The times we snuck out to adventure in the woods and carved our names into trees bigger than we could fathom. When did ‘I love you’ turn around to mean ‘When it’s convenient’ and when did you free your hand from the tangled knots in my hair and when did you stop kissing me at 3 am with the taste of ***** stained to our tongues.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
The first time you told me why you don’t talk to your parents we were in your car driving to nowhere at one in the morning. Your dad was angry and your mom was empty. Your hand was shaking and sweating in mine and if we were holding on any tighter our fingers would have broken. My heart was beating ***** and when you swerved the car to avoid a raccoon we came seconds away from hitting the truck that was coming at us. I couldn’t take my eyes off the silhouette of your face in the light of the moon. I watched the curve of your lips as you spoke of the pain of watching your mother fill her emptiness with gallons of ***** and I saw a single tear streak down your face, you refused to release my hand so it dropped onto your lap. We stopped at the base of a mountain and climbed through trees making our own trails until we reached the top. We ****** as the sun came up and I had never felt more at home than when you wrapped me in your arms.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
we used to lay together at the top of a hill stating at the stars and watching planes fly over is. you traced constellations on my skin and knotted flowers into my hair. your touch was lightning and your voice was a razorblade cutting through the still air. you lit a match off my tongue for your cigarette and the smoke was a lethal gas that made my head spin. I saw fireflies dancing when I closed my eyes and I tried to reach out to catch just one for you but my hands were made of knives and the fireflies turned into scorpions and they were stabbing into my bones and I was bleeding gasoline mixed with glitter but you were frozen in a dream and your blood was ice and you couldn't hear me spitting your name into the poisoned air. the clouds were black and red flares were peeking out at me whispering raspy nothing's and my blood was on fire pouring out of the holes the scorpions left me with and the grass was a bed of needles pushing into my back and that's the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital after they pumped the venom from my stomach.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
I want to know you so much better than I do. I want to see you wipe sleep from your eyes and I want to see exactly how much sugar you add to your coffee so I can make it for you at 3 AM when we haven't slept in days. I want to know how you got the snake-like scar on your neck and I want to know why you don't talk to your dad anymore, or what your mom always made for dinner on your birthdays. I have to learn where your favorite diner is and the gorey details of your worst nightmare. I want to know what visuals your mind creates when you're on acid and why your brother got kicked out of your house when you were 14 and he was 16. I wish you could let me tear open the stitches holding your heart together so I could crawl in and make myself a nest and truly understand who put them there and why.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
You held me like I was glass and you were always afraid of tearing apart the stitches on my heart. You didn't mind when I used menthol and nicotine to glue my bones together, and when I couldn't stop shaking because I was constantly cold, you wrapped me in a blanket like I was a caterpillar going into a cocoon as you brought me coffee so hot it burned the lining of my stomach. Now I know that each and every time you wrapped me in that cocoon you couldn't help but to hold at least a sliver of hope that I was actually a caterpillar and when I emerged I would be a beautiful and perfect creature so we would be able to start new and you wouldn't have to hold a shaking pile of bones, you could hold a real beautiful girl with skin made from oil paint and sunlight with hair spun from flower petals. A girl who wasn't constantly afraid of everything and could use words to tell yoou how she was feeling instead of just shrugging and taking another drag of a cigarette. There's nothing poetic about gluing myself together with smokes and coffee and there's nothing beautiful about being too afraid of the final splat that I don't allow myself to fall for someone as beautiful and sparkling as you. There's nothing beautiful about how choppy my words are and the nights I spend crying on the bathroom floor. You deserve that girl who's skin is ******* oil paint and sunlight. You deserve someone who can pronounce 'I love you' and mean it. You deserve the girl who's blood isn't made of gasoline who's just waiting to blow up everything and everyone when she decides to light a match on her tongue. I don't know what you were thinking at the exact moment you found me lying on the tile floor of the bathroom clawing at my own skin but I think I do know that that was when you finally realized that I'm a lost cause and you know I'm never going to be fixed, just stapled and sewn over the holes I'm made of. I know you figured it out because when I woke up you were gone with all your things except a sticky note that told me I am stuck being a caterpillar forever and you've tried and failed to make me a butterfly so you're running away to find the girl who's hair is spun from flower petals.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
The last time you said 'I love you' you breathed it into my mouth and it tasted like gasoline and razor blades. You used to write poetry sititng next to me and I swear the sound of your pen hitting your notebook was my heartbeat. We haven't spoken in twenty-seven days but your words still cut me like butterfly knives. We once went to a butterfly garden and I told you that your words remind me of one, a butterfly; so delicate and beautiful, so different with wings just waiting to take you to better places, more beautiful places. Soon your wings morphed into blades so sharp you couldn't speak without cutting me. I know I have to let you go but your smell is trapped in the molecules of my blankets and you forgot to take back the hat you let me wear the night we smoked on the fire escape after we didn't sleep for days. You've become a part of me. My mom used to tell me to be careful of how I attached myself to people and she warned me to never lose myself to anyone but you snuck into my veins and became my 3 AM coffee and the cigarette I smoke on my 10 minute break from work. I don't know how you snuck into my veins I wanted to listen to my mom but I couldn't help it; the second I saw the colors blending together in your irises I was your's, but you aren't mine and your wings have flown you to better places, more beautiful places with people who you can actually love and I'm here with weights tying my body down using your favorite coffee to try and defrost the frozen veins you left me with.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC