the truth is,
i'm afraid to have friends.
there's something uneasy in my stomach about the thought of doing things friends do.
like hanging out,
and going places like the mall or wherever friends go.
and being vulnerable to them,
trusting them.

I once had
a beautiful voice
and you asked me
why I no longer sing.
I turned to you
and quietly replied
"because I was a bird,
and you clipped my wings."

flowers and bright and light and love,
so much love,
and the people that i would die for in less than a heartbeat.
so much love and smiles.
this dark room holds so much light that feels like hope when it touches my heart.
and you,
you are the stars and beautiful autumn days.
you are loving and living inside every action i do,
i do it all for you.
this life doesn't seem scary right now.
and this pearl aqua color that consumes the blood in my veins in the most beautiful way.
i'm alive and i'm breathing and in this moment,
there is no hurt.
in this moment,
there is no worry or fear of what's to come.
my life, right here, right now,
is flowers and aqua blue and love and warmth and life and
love.

Dating with anxiety
Is always over thinking.
The messages never replied to lead to the thoughts swirling through your head.
Every detail gets scrutinized.
Every moment replayed over and over until you can't think.
The little things that no one looks at become huge and the reason anything went wrong.
You try to be normal and not let it show because if they really know they will run away.
Being crazy isn't easy. The normal ones don't understand.
They don't get what your brain demands.
The need to be reassured and affirmed, to know that they haven't changed their minds.
But how do you say it? How do you let them into your hell? How would somone stick around after they understand the interworkings of the cells that create the mass that is you.
You spend the nights laying awake thinking. Wanting to just let it all spill out like a glass of milk knocked off the table but instead you walk on egg shells and pretend you're not internally freaking out. That you haven't spent all day looking at a message then closing the phone. Only to open it again and begin to reply ....but wait if you reply now you're clingy. But how do you gracefully walk the line between crazy and cute?

The answer.
You don't. You just silently go insane and internalise it all for the sake of saving face. To appear like the person they want. Because if you can be that then everything will be fine.

But what happens when the glass pane shatters when the mirror image you projected crumbles? What happens when the monster you've been shutting down for weeks on end to seem normal starts to seep through the cracks? What then? Will he still be there? Will he be able to handle it?

You go on a date and the conversation leads to "oh I have anxiety" he looks at you and just kinda shruggs. You glaze over the subject and move on. Like I had just said god bless you after a sneeze no second thoughts. No further questions. The cat is out of the bag but does he realize that by cat I mean lion? Huge, ferocious, dominant, lurking in the background ready to strike? No. Because I am a good pretender. I am good at making the facade up to par. What you don't see is the circus dancing around the erupting volcano inside. Every cell vibrating trying not to implode.

They don't see the girl who can't breathe because she is so far down the black hole that swallows her whole lost in the inner workings of her mind. Screaming to be seen and accepted. Begging to be allowed out. Needing to show herself.

But no. That's not allowed. Once it's out there it can't be put away. You cant just say haha just kidding. Because the damage is done. You've either found one who will take the shattered girl or everything you've thought would happen does and you're alone again.

she had always said
her favorite color was yellow
for the girl with buttery skin and crystal eyes
it seemed rather fitting
yellow was the color of sunshine
and the color of her hair
after it had been bleached by summer
it was the color of the bumblebees
that drank from her favorite flowers
flowers that now
line her grave

she told you
her favorite color was yellow
because she knew you needed someone
radiant with light
to ease the depth
of your own darkness
so she said
when autumn arrived
you could watch the ground
become littered with yellow leaves
together

when you asked what color
lie beneath her skin
she told you it was yellow
she made herself believe
her body was freckled from stardust
and not from the amber glow
of cigarette burns
she still said
her favorite color was yellow
so she could continue being the light
in your colorless world

soon enough
your favorite color was yellow too
but not for the same reasons
she fell in love with it
you only saw yellow vaguely
in the form of teeth
stained from tobacco and too much coffee
smiling grimly through cracked lips
dripping poisoned honey
you guilded the word ¨love¨
with muted ochre lies

and now
she no longer feels the warmth
that once emanated
from her favorite color
she no longer tastes
the sweetness of butterscotch
and papaya on your lips
for you left her with nothing but
the sour residue of lemons and bile
as your gentle breath
extinguished her golden flames
and reduced her heart to ash

and now
she realizes that bumblebees
can also administer a piercing sting
and as she watches the sunset
with its amber hues
she no longer sees
the color yellow


x.