I didn't know moaning had two purposes. for real.
and this isn't meant to be ******.

but when you're rolling over the couch
over
and over
and ******* over again
and nothing seems to make sense,
especially the times you force air in and out of your throat....

why the moaning?

because I know for one
panicking
is not pleasurable

it's raining and
the sky is cracking and
the clouds are growling and
all i can hear
with my ill ear
are the gentle drops of rain

the rain has broken
all the telephone wires
there is static when i try
to reach out to you
the internet died
sometime last night
and there's no way i can
speak to you

the cable was taken away and
the lights are flickering and
my phone short-circuted and
my laptop overheated and

i'm disconnected

i'm thinking back
to our last few days
and thinking of
the words i never heard
the words you never heard
when the calls dropped and
the line went numb
did you ever even hear me
when i whispered
"stay"

and i wonder now
maybe that was the problem all along
maybe we were always on the verge
of making our always into forever
and maybe our love just got stuck in

bad connection.

my flu turns to a sinus infection and my mom tells me it could have been avoided if i'd only taken medicine to begin with and didn't try to act like a superhero how do i explain to her that for once in my life i just wanted to fight by myself and fight alone and fight to success and so much for that because what started off with a little sneeze is now an emergency and i'm stuffing antibiotics down my throat and falling down the stairs due to vertigo and it hurts you know it hurts it doesn't feel good to have your head full of sinus and i want someone to take a syringe and insert it into my temple and pull out all the liquid and maybe some memories too i think i've reached cognitive overload and okay so maybe my plan to be self-sufficient didn't work out so great but that doesn't mean i can't save myself right? right? i don't know anymore i'm not so sure anymore i don't know if i can get back on my feet when just a little infection gets me in bed praying for light to consume me and end this now i can't even handle a sinus infection for the love of all that is holy and kind how am i going to survive anything in this cruel world when i can't handle a sneeze and it reminds me how you'd still kiss me when i was sick and even though we hadn't met in months you'd be okay with just cuddling and not having *** if i didn't feel like it when we finally did meet and do you remember when our biggest problem was me being on my period on the days i wanted *** and do you remember how we had *** anyway and do you remember how it felt and do you remember how i was (who i was) do you remember? and this sinus infection feels a whole lot like love it gives me a headache and makes me want to die but somewhere inside i want it to stay because being sick is a great excuse to give others when they ask you why you look so pale so sad so down it's a great excuse to give when people ask you why your eyes are so red you can tell them the infection kept you up all night instead of revealing how you had a dinner party with your demons until 4am before realizing that the tea was poison and your demons in your head i'm thinking about the kid in my literature class who showed up ****** and i wonder if that takes away his pain i don't plan on getting ****** but i have red eyes all the time anyway so why not right? why not depend on a drug why not depend on an antibiotic why am i trying to save myself when the world has provided me happiness in a pill and instead of fighting all the time all i have to do is swallow (i've always been good about swallowing, ask him he'd tell you) and i guess this pill is just another thing to close your swallow even though you don't want it down your throat and i guess it's time to lay down my arms and say here, you win. i give in. the food festival is tomorrow and my  aunt tells me not to go because there are open wires on the fields and the rain has given them more life than ever before and oh i've always had a love-hate relationship with food (more love than hate anyday but that's the whole problem anyway) and i think i'm going to go to the food festival- whether for the doodh patti chai or for the danger of open wire shocks; **i'm not so sure yet.

i've had a flu for the last week and a half i can't sleep at nights anymore because i can't breathe but i haven't taken any medicine because i want to fight it myself i want to fight this myself i am stronger than these pills and i will fight with my own body my own strength i will go down fighting i cannot rely on external substances i cannot rely on something or someone to save me i have to save myself i HAVE to save myself i have to save myself save myself save myself it's my mantra: I HAVE TO SAVE MYSELF and i'm thinking of the time my luggage was wrecked and my purple lamp was in there and that lamp was a memory because i remember you turned it on while you lay on top of me so that you could see me just a little better (i wanted it dark so that i didn't have to see myself) you wanted to see the curves on my body because you loved me and i can see you infront of me right now while i type this there in those black jeans with your broad shoulders and your mouth just a little softer than my own and just like that lamp my love was wrecked and it came back in more than two pieces the ocean just wasn't kind enough wasn't soft enough it didn't care enough to transport my love with the care it needed and tell me do you remember the time i screamed save me no wait get away from me save me love me get away from me and you touched me then moved back because you didn't know what i needed you didn't know how to save me but you knew how to love me. that was enough. it was enough. you were enough. enough. enough.
and just like the pills i refuse to take you were that drug i was too scared to need and that dependency broke me and that fear is breaking me and i love you enough for the both of us but like that purple lamp i'm just a little broken and i'm fighting to light up the room and see things just a little clearer and on my way back from school today i saw the electric boxes with warning signs and i opened the car door and walked to them and i tried pulling the 440 volt wires to touch them and fry myself; maybe i'd light up then but someone saw me and i ran and i ran to my house and my mom doesn't know that i'm suicidal but that's okay because i don't have the guts to **** myself anyway *(but i tried today).

don't tell me about your first love-
tell me about your last.

tell me how he made you believe in love
when you thought your time had passed.

tell me how he made you feel
when you thought the butterflies were dead.

tell me how you tried silencing your heart
and all the crazy thoughts in your head.

tell me how he taught you
to love just a little bit again.

tell me how it was like taking your first step
how it was like to once more begin.

tell me how you thought your heart was dead
how you'd been hurt too many times before

tell me how you saw yourself falling for him
and constantly wanting more.

tell me how you thought you weren't worthy of love
tell me how all those thoughts vanished with one touch

a year, a decade, a century
how no time with him was too much

tell me how he excites you
how you're seeing colors you didn't know existed.

tell me how you finally gave in to giving love another chance
how you couldn't fight it, no matter hard you resisted.

tell me how you thought that love just wasn't for you
tell me how being with him makes you feel love is just for you.

tell me how the world seems just a little better
tell me how the grass is greener, the sky a little more blue.

tell me about your last love;
the one who really stayed.

how he's the missing piece of the puzzle
the one for whom you always prayed.

tell me about your last one
the one standing by your bed.

the one you hold on to a second too long
before you forever rested your head.