Did you know that I hate you?
Every second you ignore me seeps into my skin like ink
Your words are a tattoo I can’t remove
I’ve spent months scrubbing my skin of your touch
The memory of it lingering
Between my fingers
Behind my ears
On my lips
Around my waist
An invisible hand-shaped scar on my cheek accompanied by
The sound of your voice between tears
“I want to do my best for you”
Unless your best is weakening me to the point I can’t get out of bed,
You’re a ******* liar for that
And so much more
I want to rip the memory of us from inside of you, you don’t deserve it
When I think of you I want to scream until my voice goes limp
And then you smile
And I remember you again
The goofy ******* who spends days making music
Lover of takis and neck kisses and bridges
I remember you holding me while I cried
And taking pictures while I laughed
Always knowing when I’m hungry or sad or anxious or tired
Jamming out to Inner Voices on a 20 hour road trip
Getting ****** and petting dogs
Snowball fights at 2 AM
Making out at stoplights
Taking an hour to say goodbye
The way you grinned so wide after we kissed
You ******* ******* *******
Loving you is
Shading a tattoo
Needles piercing already-open flesh
Inking your presence onto me
Covering it with a bandage
So no one can see
The blood seep out
I want to give you the power to hurt me
And trust that you won’t
But as the needles pierce my flesh again and again
I’m unsure if I still have skin
Or if you peeled it away with the rest of me
I miss you today
Impulsivity, I am hopelessly in love with you.
Buy the shoes.
Drive 30 minutes
for french fries
Buy 18 pet snails.
Eat the octopus tacos.
In acting class they told me
to follow my impulses.
At home they told me not to.
A blessing and a curse
might land me in a hearse
But I’m living
Today I wrote a letter to someone I love and I’m going to send it
Tomorrow I might stay home and cook pasta,
or maybe I’ll drive to Portland.
Pack only a few T-shirts and my terrifying
overabundance of freedom
Are you proud?
I’ve been told not to be so impulsive.
To think more rationally.
To weigh the consequences.
“You’ll regret it!”
But the greatest regret I’ve ever felt
is having not done anything
about something that is my everything.
I know I’m not an idiot.
I’ve told myself this for years and I’ll stick to it,
but there will never be a day
when my mind defeats my gut.
Sometimes it means I’m
“Who are you anyway?”
I have a secret
-I don’t know who I am
And if I’m lucky, I never will.
You, my impulsivity, are to blame and to thank for that.
— The End —