i’m worried that
i will think i’m over you,
i’ll be carefree moving on,
and then you’ll smile at me.
you’ll touch my lower back,
or you’ll fix my hair
or grab my hand
or pick me up
or call me beautiful
or tell me you love me and
i’ll fall
all
over again.
i’m worried that
i’ll spend my whole life
getting over you.
-a.c.b

i am living three different lives and not one if them makes sense
filled with alcohol and raised voices
dark nights with questionable choices
i don't know who i am
i let others decide for me
all i know is i'm a mess
and these demons seem to adore me
i have some issues i can't sort out
problems nobody knows about
the skeletons in my closet
are clawing at the door
but there's already so much mess outside
how could there be more
i'm overwhelmed and tired
don't know where to go
i can't stand being vulnerable
but some wounds we have to show

s.s

Morning blue night
pouring into our time,
dying seems so sweet in silence.

you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b