i live on a mountain where it rains a lot and i am lonely.
most days i fight with my eyelids to see the sun rise.
most days there is fog.
yes i've been avoiding the things i need to be doing
like filling out job applications
showering
getting out of bed
these days i mostly think about the things i've been missing out on up here.
i don't go out.
i don't sit in the passenger seat
in the glow of the courtesy light
talking about everything and nothing
listening to german folk music with my best friend.
i don't laugh till i cry
getting red in the face and chasing my breath.
i don't cook up insane meals we won't finish
while watching disney movies.
i don't go driving
i never end up at the beach it's too far.
i miss the sunshine.
no i don't talk about love anymore.
that word feels taboo in my mouth
i don't even know what it means
i don't remember what it feels like.
i keep my eyes closed till the tired goes away but i never sleep.
i wrap my hand around a cactus
call it an accident when they ask.
do i miss being sick?
maybe i still am.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 10:26 AM UTC
the phone rings. its you.
before i can even initiate a greeting you are talking
in a voice so melodic it made the music envious.
we talk about mundane things like how we spend our days,
your parents, my parents.
we talk about love,
how i am inside of it, wrapped in the sweet feeling of a blue eyed boy
and how you are happy for me,
how you cant envision me with anyone better than your best friend.
how you are hiding it, trying to understand why your parents keep you inside a closet like old clothes they dont want to try on because they are afraid of how it might fit.
this happens every day.
i keep my phone close to me,
i like knowing that 3,000 miles can be crossed by the sound of a ringtone.
we talk about me, mostly.
its hard for me these days and you've been there, you know what its like.
i wish you had told me that you never left there.
it is june.
my phone rings and its you.
the sweet melody of your voice has slowed into a soft hum.
i am concerned,
but i didnt know.
you say things like
"i know youre going to do great things"
and
"goodbye."
but i didnt know.
that night i dreamt i was meeting you for the first time.
your head was in the clouds and i begged for you to come down yet slowly you bent and said
"i am with you."
that night you went into the closet that your parents locked you in to hide who you were away.
you were a jacket they didnt want to try on.
so you became the medicine cabinet.
and i hope that made you feel better.
i imagine its hard to feel incomplete with so many pills filling you completely.
the next day.
my phone rings and its
not
you.
i can feel the blood rushing to my head
my stomach falling to the floor,
how your knees give out and your throat gives in
i didnt cry.
not right away.
i waited until the phone call was over.
i hope you understand.
the blue eyed boy read your letter to me over the phone a few days later.
i didnt know.
my little bird, you became the clouds you once wanted to see from the inside.
i see you in all of the beautiful things this world has to offer.
you dont feel so far away these days.
you are everything.
the stars write your name out.
i hear the birds in the morning sing a song so melodic it makes the music envious.
i feel you in the sunshine and i dont forget you in the rain.
last night i laid sleeping and in the darkness of my consciousness the phone rang.
it was you.
please visit me often angel.
it was nice to hear your voice.
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
please dont ask me if i miss it when you know that i do,
please dont ask me how it felt to sit in the passenger seat of your car every day for four months straight.
because i will tell you.
how it felt like yellow lights in a dimly lit café on monday nights,
like ***** snow underneath your tires,
like a resurrection of fresh air after feeling trapped since september.
every now and then i come back to this.
now that it's february and i cant remember what your house smelt like.
i often wonder what your parents think happened to me. and your sister.
i've started to wonder if i would have gone to her wedding with you.
i hope she's happy, and i hope you are too.
don't get me wrong, i needed you to leave i know i did.
sometimes it doesn't feel like you did much for me although i know you did.
sometimes it doesn't feel like you were ever part of me although i know you were.
now that it's the end of february the weather has started to become lighter and i keep finding myself rolling the window down, making the music louder and wanting to sing, wanting to smile, wanting to feel what it's like to be euphoric again and i just, can't.
not right now.
i don't know if a year later can be considered "too soon" but i do know
that i hate you, and the way you made the snow feel like you so now i dont even feel at home when i look out my bedroom window.
i hate you, and the way you made the car feel like our safe space so now i don't feel safe when i'm driving with my mother.
i hate you, and the way you made me think that you would stay,
the way you made me feel like you were going to be a part of my family
the way you threw me away as if it was easy for you.
i hate you for everything that reminds me of you like guitars and troye sivan and sleepovers and driving down the ******* highway and being someone that cares about you so much i'd miss saying goodbye to my dad to spend another night with you.
so don't,
do not
ask me if i miss it
when you think you know that i do.
because i don't miss any of it.
not anymore.
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 1:51 AM UTC
they talk about water like its giving birth.
when i met you i was swimming. you were treading water and i stopped to give you a hand.
like this, float here stay a little while, i will too.
keep your head above water we can play marco polo and grow gills turn into mermaids you be Ariel you always liked Disney movies best.
isnt this nice, arent you growing arent you starting to understand how to swim, dont do it just yet i havent shown you all i know yet.
be careful now not everyone you love is going to love you but keep your head above the water hold my hand ill help you float.
look at that when you start singing everyone listens everyone falls in love with you here they come to give you their souls im showing you off like my favorite pearl.
be careful now youre not going to love everyone who loves you but dont sink too far youll choke.
what are you doing why are you swimming away come back youre going under swim up like i showed you why are you forgetting everything we learned together where are you going come back this way i forgot how to swim all i know has been floating right here with you for so long i gave you all of me you cant just take it with you youre going so far down i cant even see you anymore.
yes, yes i know not everyone i love is going to love me but i swam so far out into this water just to keep you afloat how can you leave me here you made promises dear god you broke them all and now i dont know which one of us is actually drowning.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
best friends can break your heart too and just as a lover might you are going to cry.
constricted chest, you are going to walk swiftly past her like she was never the one who sat in the car next to you as you cried into your knees.
you left a sweatshirt at her house and she borrowed your favorite book.
these are things you arent going to ask to have back because maybe she'll ask for you back.
you have matching names on tumblr and both of you are waiting for the other to change it to something else.
remember when you walked home with her and you picked flowers and laced them through each others hair,
remember how you two were always changing but always at the same time,
remember how she was the only one who knew how to handle your emotions.
she is gone now, and youre not exactly sure why.
maybe she needs space.
maybe you have been replaced.
maybe you became too much,
maybe she changed but this time you didnt,
maybe it was just time to let go.
either way your heart is broken and there is no one there to sit next to you in the car as you cry into your knees.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 5:29 PM UTC
I slipped and you caught me.
You're holding on to me so tight.
You have both of my hands in yours.
Im hanging off the edge of a cliff and I'm trusting you to pull me up.
But you don't.
You tied rope around my wrists as I stared into your eyes but I saw nobody there in you.
My wrists are burning and I'm too scared to move for if I do I might fall into an abyss.
So I stay. I have no choice.
You left for days. You would come back to check on me. To make sure I was still alive.
As long as I'm breathing, I'm yours.
Weeks went by and I realized I'd rather die than be yours.
So I let go.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
He used to drink orange juice
out of cups that curved,
like his smile used to,
licking droplets of orange sun
off of his lips;
sun beams,
that shined from his face,
and his eyes,
which was unfair
because he knew;
I'm telling you,
he knew,
that summer was my favorite time of year.
And when the sun hit me,
like a thousand arrows,
from the bow of Heartbreak,
that I would think of him
and his orange juice cup.
And question all the reseons he sent me letters
with different stamps,
always scribbled in black lines,
like his pupils,
when I let him see through the jail bars of my soul,
and I asked him,
no,
I begged him to leave me cuffed to the wall,
with no food or water,
starving my desire to love again,
knowing that if I devoured every word,
every sound,
and memory,
of trembling hands on first dates,
leaning in to kiss me,
with lips and fists at the nape of my neck,
clinging to me like feathers;
with every single intake of breath,
and caterpillars that wrapped themselves in silk,
and waited for days and nights to pass,
until finally,
they spread their wings to reveal Picasso's paintings,
that I would eventually die of starvation,
as the words ran out,
and the kisses became short,
and the butterflies died...
He knew.
He knew that I loved summer;
and the drops of orange juice on his lips.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
You made a poet fall in love with you
And expected her not to write sonnets about your eyes
Haikus about the way you kissed her in the moonlight
Expected the fire in her heart not to inspire couplets
You made a poet fall in love with you, and when you left
Expected her not to write pages about the ache in her chest
Write a soliloquy dedicated to her tears
Expected her not to feel every gut wrenching moment of the pen hitting paper like your words hit her in the most vulnerable places of her mind.
You made a poet fall in love with you, and you expected her to be silent.
That is no fault of hers.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC