Honestly, I am barely surviving without you
I now get that it never stops hurting
And all I can think of is how you look in the moonlight
How your lips were cold and slow
How my ribcage broke the moment you pulled me closer
You are alive in every corner of my mind
Feels ***** yet powerful
And I kinda love it

I can't really be alone at night
So I search for slow cold lips and knowing hands
Pain in the chest. I connect you with pain. The good kind.
I summon you at night.
Whatever I touch I leave numb

I am bisexual. I am sure of that.
I've been sure of it for quite some time now.
I came to realize something.
If I end up with a woman I am going to embrace the essence of everything that's broken and ****** up about me and claim it as my own and let it define my identity.
Now don't get me wrong that doesn't mean it's gonna be a sad life or that my female partner will make me miserable.
No!
We will have lots of amazing and breathtaking moments and happy yellow days.
But there will always be some gray in the corner of my vision.
Gray will never leave.
All of my depth will forever be in the back of my mind.
And depth requires some darkness.
But I will be fully me. Real me. A picture frozen in time.

However, if I end up with a man I will probably abandon my depths and my grays.
I will forever be feeling like some part of me is missing but I will be leading a whole new life which will be about learning to love myself and nothing will ever be broken.

Do I even make sense?
What does that say about me?

Today I visited our spot for the fist time since you’ve been gone

And as I guessed, this year spring came in suspiciously late and I knew that it was because of you. You stopped time for me. Your last miracle.

But it feels ruined in all its beauty without you here. There is no sky under which I can last without you.

You know how I always liked wearing color and I would swear I’d wear yellow to make you smile?

But after they told me you are no more I knew wearing anything but black would never feel right again.

I whipe my tears as the sun hits my face. I avoid your name only to stop myself from sinking.

I divide my being in three: before, with and after you

Now you exist in places I can’t reach with my hands and I ache while I trip over our memories and open windows.


So when tomorrow starts without you and I’ll have rising sun and tears in my eyes and coffee I will honor you.
Love of my life.

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.

I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.

You know you have good bud when finger tips are sticky
No seeds
Stems bend not break
Dank aroma sparks desire to elevate
Roll
Burn
Puff
Laugh
THC makes me lazy
Left sober with nothing to eat

Mom yells beacause an empty plate is left from what was eaten
A fork and syrup remain where flapjacks once layed
Lips sticky
A flying saucer lands on carpet
Ants investigate because I am lazy
Brain stimulation allows for barriers to be broken
Stress lives on the first floor but on A roof dwells laughs
So often I catch an elevator

Only mellow tunes can be heard on this elevator
Food for thought is french rolled not eaten
Worries drowned out from laughter
Now no situation seems too sticky
Ambition for new ideas can't be broken
At these heights interest has home field advantage over laziness

Nothing good ever comes to the lazy
Full potential could never elevate
Bad habits leave you broke
If you don't work you don't eat
Situations become sticky
When it's  back to the first floor where presense is absence of laughter

Only to keep from crying do I laugh
No longer high I mope around lazily
Mouth salivating for something rank and sticky
No alternatives for an out of order elevator
Kitchen cabinets bear nothing to eat
I am broke

But my spirits never broken
Sadly I watch other people laugh
Watch other people eat
Who's is really to blame for being lazy?
Stairwells are alternatives for elevators
There's nothing like being high on life
Less sticky

I only loved you
when it was
Convenient
I'm really sorry
that I  didn't think
of you
( When it really mattered.)
What's the matter with my
soul? It isn't correct
but nothing feels wrong.

I feel something , I don't know
if it's "sorry".

Looking into the void.
I think I seen you.

Reached out.
We met again.

For the first time.

It was love


Possibly maybe.

holding on to right now.


Frozen. your face perfection.

Eyes closed.

Waiting so anxiously for you
to open them.

You don't.
   My heart arrested by your beauty.
   Shatters when you chose not
   to look at me.



I don't feel any signs of growing.