I still wear the lotion you liked 10 years ago
and I feel at peace when I smell you on my skin.
In a decade
someone will hold more of your heart
but I will have all your best memories
and your strongest feelings
and your loveliest moments.
Ours was the best love story
that was never told.

I wish that I could love you like I used to.
I wish I could go back to the time
where we laughed together
and every smile was genuine.
I wish that you weren’t a fool and that I wasn’t a fool and that neither one of us got hurt in the end of this all
but here I am
and there you are.
Some things are meant to change.

I lie
through my broken teeth

can i ask you for money again?

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your smile.
I can feel us change over time
But there is something more than time between us.
More than distance.
Back then, we danced between sparklers and slides and sunny afternoons
Only the sun above us and our future ahead.
On that big hill, we huddled our knees together like little kids
Hiding from the rain and the resonance of Graceland Too,
but you’re the only one hiding now.
I can’t rescue you and I can’t find you.
Back then, I would have cried till I went blind.
Now I just cry.

Watching other people think
That I belong to them.

You must admit, you fooled me first
but even now, I begin the story by blaming you.
I must rewrite the narrative meaning I must take blame
and I am not in the habit of taking anything but Walmart rings and other people's clothes.
That includes yours.

I gave them back, of course. Swifter than I typically do.
I hold on to things that help me dream of what is not mine.
I can finally admit to myself

'You make mistakes'
                (You are the problem)
I am the problem,
I am the issue
but most everything I do is presumably done with love.

I am so blind that this is what I think is love.

Hello, Home. My old friend.
I never wanted to see you again,
But in the back of mind
There’s a place and time
That belongs solely to you.

I use too many words.
Next time, I'll try to shutup.

I am, most certainly, bored.
I do not know where to go from here.
It's a little stressful, but I feel as if the majority of me really just doesn't care where I take this, to be completely honest. I am just
here, I suppose.

This is very much just for fun, but I guess it is kinda letting me let off some steam.

I try on bulimia

but I don't like the way it fits

I am surviving off of fantasies barely based in reality
like reading a fairy tail but its set in New York circa 2002.
I never lived in the north - For the turn of the centurY-
but its close enough to make magic seem a bit realer.

If I take the shoes off your feet, use my name and a thick nib sharpie to violate ----- are they mine?

That's not what I meant to say but apparently that is in my heart.

If I see your shoes when you walk towards me, and I decide I love that shade of blue, does that mean you want me? You must be mine!

An alternate title would be delusional but that's just how these sorts of buildings make you feel this late at night.

I can no longer hate the people I used to know.
They are not the same
and I am different, too.
But to stop hating means to stop hurting
and I've gotta milk this dry.

I shiver at the thought that one day
you might become the one that got away.

If self-fulfilling prophecies lay their claim,
I have sent myself to a early grave.

I fall back into depressive habits when I can't control my hair.
I have absolutely no clue why, but something about my happiness is linked directly to my hair
like Sampson.
It's where my power comes from.

            Anywhere, here is a different time for me to work through.

I have what I need I just have to figure it out. It's not that any of this is relevant to any of you,
but maybe it is. I just wanted to let you know.
Just in case

Love only what you want for,
spiritually poor
and unsatisfied.

Kids keep keeping score,
who hurts more,
new way to stratify.

Pondering life's meaning
but there is little more
forget how to be alive.

They lied

There is absolutely nothing funny about this feeling.

You scare me
I know why, yet it remains a mystery.
I am in fear
of your voice's cadence, your gentle bird bones,
the whisper of tender strength beneath your chest, your skin.
I cower at the sight
of such a sharp jaw,
such soft eyes,
such dark waves.
What I am truly terrified of is the way that you make me feel
Because how do you make me feel?
You light me up, you listen,
you lend a shoulder as well as you lend an ear.
All this safety and security, a metaphor to your smile,
and a feeling somewhat like infinity.
All this
yet the ache in my chest stems from your lack of breast.
Where you stay firm, I crave the curve.
I do not know if I should overlook it,
more over, I do not know if I can.

under closely monitored air conditionin
knees weak under warm street lights on cool nights
talk about runnin away n runnin from talkin
ya gave me a heart attack sayin you were stayin by
You have a way of always saying just what Im thinking
unless the thing that I’m thinking bout is you
Sometimes I wonder if you can read my mind but never told me
cuz its a lot safer to pretend that you dont have a clue.

and I’m ghost writing
for a heartbroken singer who cant read the lyrics
and swallowed her tongue when she saw you with her
Im a ghost riding down the street
where we grew up
without glasses or my training wheels.

I skipped two meals cuz you talked about her
but i guess that means that were twinning

******* you feels like desperation,
gasping for breath, pleading for skin, gripping like you might slip through my fingers
and breaking only to go down for you again.
You’re so hot on my neck,  
on my mouth,
around my hand
all this want, all your need
while your friends sit in the other room
and talk about how you’re better off without me.

It has been a long time.
I would call you an old friend but was ours a friendship of comfort or pain?
I am no longer as careless. No longer as sweet.
Time evicts such naive novelties.
I sit with the same trauma everyday smack dab on the middle of the school bus.
*** is easier than intimacy and I do not have to be better for it.
Substances replace substance.
I like life easier
I cannot tell where my holes come from- it doesn’t seem to matter. The holes are still there.
I am stuck back here writing, searching for something that I never found.
I have grown and I have changed
but my roots remain the same.

I do not do anything
and then I wonder why nothing gets done.

I am sad, but I am happy.

I knew I would not make it long. When I imagine a future, I see gray. There is nothing but fog and my headlights, lowlights, brights- they’re all out. I do not think I worry people too bad, I hope. I know my mom cannot stomach it, though. I do not want her to live in that fear, the type you get when you’re just waiting for something to happen.

I am sorry to you Mom. I know you have given so much. I hope I can give it back in my next life. I am sorry, Bot. I think you will be fine eventually. I am sorry, No. I know you will not. I want to watch you grow up. Dad, you gave so much and yet have seen so little of me. Mom, you too.

I am sorry, BAN for taking one of your best friends. I hope you can forgive me. I am sorry LAN for ditching you last minute. MAM, you will move on better I am sure. You guys know pain, but I am sory nonetheless. I am sorry, C, for starting something I could not finish. I love you how I have never loved before.

Things are hard, but they’re sweet and I think that now is the perfect time to draw it to an end.

Most of the time, I get scared of who I am as a person.
       I am mean and I am judgy,
and I often find myself thinking- "don't be mean and judgy"
I feel like others may see me as hateful and awful to be around.

But then I remember that other people see me how I want them to see me.
They don't see me as a terrible person unless I am terrible to them.

Sometimes I am terrible to people, but in all honesty, it's better than faking it.
Being mean is okay, it makes me a Person.
Just like him, her, they, you.
         We are all mean and judgy Persons.
I don't seem to have a problem with it anymore.

We are full of .ourselves.
like our cries are more noteworthy than the others.

We turn and say "shut the **** up"
We are full of .****.

I punish myself to make up for your forgiveness.
there is some visible part of Me that needs the pain.
i wouldn’t say I am masochistic or a sadist
Each evaluation of self proves both true instantly.
I don’t know if I have it in me to keep working on myself.
I just want to please us.

you and I do not blend
We melt
yet I have been soft then hard and soft again
to your unyielding weather.
What do you mean
you cannot come over?
How dare you ignore my pleas for your love like I am just another affectionate fool
It has been us even when it was not
and you know that in the darkest hole of your chest.
Deny me, but you cannot deny the truth forever
and time will never end.

I have been looking for so long for my other half,
searching in the most unlikely corners of the earth for them.
I have met an immeasurable amount of people and questioned every single one to **** them down.
I've written unlikely narratives, forcing them to fit,
and gone against my own standards and sanity to complete this puzzle.
But today
I showered myself.
I thought and ate and spoke
and braided my own hair
and lotioned my own skin.
There is no other half.
I am whole and I am one.

I am not a fraction of a human being

Without time to myself, I lash out.
With time to myself, I fall apart.
Within time to myself, I break down.
Without time, I’d be happier.
I’d be happier if I ran out of time.

One day, I will be able to count on myself to self-soothe
Instead of calling you a little after midnight
and still being upset.