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 Mar 2018
lauren
you
and there was always something about the perpetual silence that rang through the room as i bit down on my lip looking at him lopsided. they were always slightly chapped in the middle,
and when i smiled through small, notorious breaths,
i tasted blood from bitter winters.
there was something about aligned spines and hands along hourglasses and snickers that broke the silence of tremendous distribution of headache.
isn't it funny to realize that somebody may have just slightly exceeded your complication?  
i’ve watched the sunlight filter and fade out through the blinds covering my windows for too many days alone and i wonder if the rays look so much more beautiful casting over his room. 
i feel shoulder blades and hipbones burning and itching into a dull generic hallucination, entranced by the idea that maybe in the back of your mind you ignore my bumps and scratches.
i never told him that i wanted to memorize every inch of his skin and that maybe he'd forgive me for flinching when he ran his fingers over where my side meets my hips.
i promise that i love the feel of you against my skin, i’m not shivering out of fear.
i don't want to write about how every time he touched me, vacancy of ribcages took flight.
and i didn't want him to know that i sat up with him counting his heartbeat when he slept.
his eyes flutter underneath softer skin and i thought it was beautiful.  
his lip curves upward slightly more in one direction and i loved the way knees had always buckled.
he reminded me that i exist in a world where people like him live and it gives me strange senses of perpetual hope.
i wish i had the willpower of august and the submission of february, but you are not a kitchen sink and i am not a dresser drawer
and sometimes it aches indescribably to know that i've kissed the sea and coming home hasn't been the popular option.
now these days i can no longer tell if the heartbeat i hear is yours or mine
and i do not want to be able to distinguish between the sound.
you breathe i breathe.
some people are just tiny little pin ****** in the backs of our minds and others, hand grenades the size of fists leaving bits and pieces of confusion plastered around like disheveled skulls.
i would bathe you in the breath from my lungs and i would wash you clean of all things made from yesterday, and i swear that
i am in love with you.
 Dec 2017
lauren
i broke today.
i watched my bones shatter on the ground
and fall into a million pieces onto the floor.
as i stared at my breaking body,
i came to a realization.

the pieces that were one so beautifully sculpted
were deformed and
unfamiliar.
a distorted picture of who i once was.

i cried for the person who resonated
darkness in me,
staring
standing
still.

i will conquer and fix myself
someday
but for now
im okay with not being okay
 Mar 2017
lauren
i am selfishly lost in my own dictation and imaginary metaphors.
i have blatenly forgotten to thank you
for making me feel the essence of innocence that has been so eternally masked behind my insecurity of loneliness.
the way you express your body language,
as if it were a puzzle -
a mystery to keep away the longed clarity.
unfortunately, the tactics you hold to be true about yourself, have been unraveled. mistakenly poured out into the air, and
have landed into my arms.
my whole being is engulfed in the comfort of
the warmth you so willingly radiate.
I promise to hold onto it.


oh
and
thank you.
 Jul 2016
Ashton
...
They made me this way
I wasnt always this insane
But
They pushed
They screamed
They never stopped
...
 Jun 2016
Ashton
How am i suppose to fix us when you dont even try
How is everything always my fault
I dont know what im suppose to do
Im confused
And you wont even answer my texts anymore
I just miss us
How we used to be
We were so happy
And now
Look at us
We arent even us anymore

— The End —