the leaves fall off the jacarandas and summer ends
between this one and last
i'm not quite sure if I recognise myself.
the passing of time passes me by
and i'm not quite sure at what point
I became not the same person
as the one who spends time making witches potions in the summer sun
with mud and lawn clippings and myself.
i'm not quite sure when i started put myself away
leaving sums of myself out
for days, weeks, years on end
for others to dust off and try out as they will
somehow the world tricked me into thinking
that i'm a bound note-book in a misused part of the library
with no words
waiting for someone to write me so I could come back to life
I momentarily forget that my hands can go in other peoples pockets
as i soak in the afternoon sun
when did I forget that i'm my own best friend
and other people, as bright as they are
are passing comets in my orbit
I never really needed anyone else
I could always play in the summer by myself
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
there are parts of me that I packed away
to be with you
elements of who i am stored away
a plant unwatered
so I couldn't sprout leaves and grow
i'm sorry that I watered you
and made you think that I didn't need it in return.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
every step I take away from you
the better I feel
I'm sorry that a love so deep
burns so cold
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
we're living and breathing
suckling on any form of nutrient the universe gives out to us
searching for something meaningful
in the unfathomable
we're a copy of a copy of a set of circumstances
that have lead us to our universe somehow existing
continuing to exist
amongst the cosmos
we're all reaching out
for love, fortune,
stardust.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:13 AM UTC
my mums eyes are blue/green
but this is not a war scene
cause it's the two of us
choking when we come down
you spun me around around
it's not new of us
you can't bring us down
you can't bring us down
cause down is where brought ourselves
no mantle pieces on our shelves
every bodies looking through us
my night terrors freak you out
they happen cause i'm filled with doubt
wearing away the glue of us
we sit and stare in silence
working through the part of you
that break us down
that wear us down
i find you sharing little pieces
with anyone who will take them
it's a part of you
the part of me that come out
are the part that are filled with doubt
can i trust you...again?
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
even if it was a fight
it was a distraction to this
there's aren't any more words
now that you're a limb i've cut off
It's like I hacked off a hobby of mine
your face, your objections
a lot of time..
put into you, with a funnel down your throat
I don't know if i'm mine anymore
I don't belong to you
I belong to the universe now
my rag doll form being pushed and pulled
with the ebb and flow of the every-day norm
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
if the question is:
how do you heal someone
the problem is:
they won't heal themselves
and it's like throwing myself at a brick wall
when will your time come
to love yourself
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
I didn't know my first love would be like this
it's not an explosion that's rocked my world
not a tender heart blooming
not even a year long fuck-fest
it's trying to wipe tears away when he tells you he's not fit to be with anyone
it's hiding the parts of you that you struggle with
so he doesn't have to carry the burden too
love isn't something for me
love is something for him
it doesn't end, it doesn't falter
I don't explode, I don't yell, I don't scream
I just hurt all the time until the hurt hurts
I don't want to be released from these chains
because i've come to love them
like i've come to love you
weather this is a short time in our long time
or the longest time of our short time together
I know i'll never love like this again
and i know my heart won't break
in tiny shards, piece by piece
for anyone like this again
there will never be this many pieces of me to give out again
loving him isn't kissing in the rain
or sweaty bodies intermingling in the midday sun
it's the nights i've spent facing the wall
choking back tears
because he's said two words to me all night,
again.
loving him is not being loved back
because there's not enough of him for me.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
and soon i'll stop missing you so badly
yesterday i forgot how often your shoulder dislocates
and the other day i finally changed my bed sheets
i'm washing my clothes for the first time since we broke up
i'm doing okay
until i'm not doing okay
it's taking all my willpower not to talk to you
because i miss you so badly
that every day when i get home i expect to find you curled up in my bed
but you're not
and we're not
but I still am.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
It’s hard i guess, this time in your life. Everything is about being somewhere else and doing other things while your stuck in the same place doing the same thing again and again. It’s hurts; the yearning. The want for something- anything different than these sore joints and weak knees. All these growing pains to boot. I’ve been with Andy for nearly three months, we haven’t said I love you in the words that mean it. We say ‘I like you’ and ‘lets get a dog’, ‘I love your mum’ and ‘how do you want me to **** you’ and it starts to ache. My elbows crack before I can fully extend them and every morning when I wake up I have a glass of juice because I know milk will make me ill. They say I need to eat something but i’m full of all the cracking hip joints and dislocating shoulders that I find in every single waking day. I’m full from eating Andrews pain, it’s an every-day thing. His growing pains and mine are like siamese twins. I wake up in the morning, sometimes alone and it’s easier to do my day like that, without the wanting to return to a life where i’m in a place where he wants me to be, but I have to wake up, I have to put my brave face on and crawl through with my creaking ankles and cracking knuckles, all these growing pains building me into the adult that I never wanted to be. I guess I always wanted something better for myself, something different for myself. A lifestyle where the growing pains are still there but they’re stifled by my ever-growing creativity and my lust for life and living. This is what I was handed, to so many people it’s like a bunch of fancy desserts on a silver platter. To me it’s a mask I put on every day, I smile, a ‘thank you’ a ‘good morning’ as in-genuine as every single ‘it was nice to meet you’ at a party where you just had to stifle panic attacks all night. It wasn’t nice to meet you. bad morning. No thank you. I never anticipated it; this is the time in your life where no one around you hears your growing pains nobody hears a symphony because their own ****** racket is beating loud and clear like a drum ensemble in their ears. This is adult-hood, you’re on your own kid.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 1:00 PM UTC