I was easy and soft
and submissive
and kind

I didn't laugh too loud
I didn't drink too much
I didn't have a lot to say

as long as you felt okay,
I felt okay

And you wanted to love me so bad,
You would play your favorite songs
with me in your arms
just to convince yourself
I mattered

You wanted to drown in me,
because you knew I'd never
leave you drowning alone,
and you'd been left to fight
for air so many times
without help

But I am no anchor,
I am not heavy enough
to pull anyone down
so deep
that they can feel
the waves crashing
in their veins

I have never been
an anchor,

People do not
fight for their lives
just to be held down
inside of me,

I'm not enough
to leave you breathless,

I'm not enough to make your
stomach float up into your skull,

I have never been
an anchor,

People come to dip
their feet,

from time to time,

but I am not the one
they dive into

and ****,
here it goes again,
that violent shaking in my knees
and everyone in this town knows
that i fall apart too easily
and you can say that
i don't deserve this
every single day
but i didn't come here
on purpose
so what the hell is the difference?

There was a still darkness
seeping in through the car windows,
and we turned up the music
and we smoked six cigarettes
and we talked louder than we had to
and we laughed at things that weren't funny
and we drove passed your house,
eight or nine times
before we stepped out into it
We did all we could to keep it outside
but it was inside of us all along
so all the noise
was just noise
And all the movement
was just movement
And we knew that
as soon as we were alone
in our beds at home,
we would have to face it
And we were better at
hiding
than we were at
confrontation
But there was an eerie,
sharp pain in
the backs of our calves,
through all the pretending,
that served as a reminder
that we couldn't talk forever
and we couldn't smoke forever
and we couldn't
drive to the ends of the earth
Not in your beat up two seater
But we just wanted
heat and closeness and music
We just wanted something
other than the darkness
to hold us
We could never hold ourselves,
We knew that
We weren't the kinds of people
who held themselves
But we were sick
of feeling like we were dreaming,
when we were wide awake
We were sick of feeling
like we were seeing the world
through a scratched,
and dusty lens
There was something growing in our bones
that we didn't know how to describe
It was a dull aching
that didn't come from the outside
And the thing that would eventually
drive us out of our minds
was that we never
really could find
a safe place to hide

March 20, 2015, 5:36 AM:
I thought if I could taste
your voice on my tongue
one more time
I'd stop missing you
but even with your
lips on my neck,
I still couldn't reach you
And now you're dreaming next to me
And the fact that you can sleep at all
is breaking my heart
as I watch this hungry pit in my soul
cast a shadow on your bedroom wall;
It's broken into slits
of light and dark
from the street lights
pouring through your blinds
And it's stretching over every corner
And collecting in the holes
you left in the pale paint
All those times
the anger filled up in your palm
and spilled out of your knuckles

I am empty
And unchanged
But I'll wake with
The morning's light
And keep existing,
I always do