sometimes i look back at old photographs
at the friends i no longer speak to
at the clothes that have been lost to time
at the places that felt so alive and vibrant
how i can still smell the air and hear the sounds around me of music playing and friends laughing
i look back sometimes at old photographs
and i feel as if i’m looking at a stranger
that was so creative and had so many beautiful words to say
i look back and i feel the shame of not realizing i could’ve done better, treated others better
treated myself better
i look back and i wish i had not taken for granted
the energy i had and the simple moments
that i now find myself struggling with
i want to go back and tell her
“enjoy this night because it will be the last time you body will be able to endure this”
i hear stories about people perpetually colliding on chance meetings and the universe persistently weaving two people together no matter the resistance. he has always been an arbitrary constant in these past years but i never thought he would become a foundation, someone who actively wanted to be a part of my mundane daily existence. it hasn't properly hit me yet what is going on and i think part of me refuses to accept it as reality in case it all falls to pieces, like these things tend to do. i'm accustomed to the bright flashes of emotion and wired nerves before reality settles in and disperses everything. he treats every moment spent with me with this sense of reverence and awe and it off-sets me to see it so clearly despite how much he tries to hide it. i can see it when i catch him looking at me when i've turned my attention away for a minute from our facetime calls or how he will kiss my shoulder every time i become restless in my sleep. it's all too much and i'm so worried that if i let my guard down for the briefest of seconds that i'll explode into a horrific mess on the inside.
i've crossed this country five times in the last three days and i feel it in every joint and juncture in my body. i'm supposed to be going on a date on friday night and i don't know what else i'm going to be able to tell him other than the fact i think i've seen too much of the world for my own good.
i’ve been waking up in a cold sweat lately from dreams that are heavy, complex and physically pin me down by my aching lungs. i will lie in the tangles of my sheets trying to catch my breath and re-trace the dreams, desperately trying to hold onto that feeling of being so alive and apart of something bigger than you and i combined. it’s much like trying to chase a shadow in an evening sunset and without fail all i can remember are you and me, on the brink of sacrificing our lives for the good of others. i don’t know who you are and i can never make out the features of your face but i can still feel the warm calluses of your palms against my own, the scratch of your fingernails on my scalp as you would run your fingers through my hair, the roughness of your trench coat whipping across my ankles as you would walk beside me, and the tight grip of your arms across my chest as you would pull me out of harm’s way. i feel as if you’ve been haunting me for years now and i’m tired of mistaking you for the men who show up in my life with similar features but only end up taking me apart piece by piece.
16 march, 2014
it’s been snowing all day and any semblance of spring that was evident yesterday is now covered up and gone. i feel i may never escape this season and all that it has brought me. i can’t seem to keep warm, to unfurl my body from the rigidness it has been stuck in since october. i look back on old photos from when the leaves were changing and the air had a cool, crisp smell to it and i barely recognize myself in them. no amount of makeup can cover up the veins of jagged cracks that were left behind after the wake of it all. it keeps me up at night that the fact a boy i knew for maybe five minutes occupies my mind more than the boy i spent over a year with. it bothers me that i allow myself to think about either of them, two boys who gave me nothing in return. it bothers me that my memory is so hazy and that remembering the good times are becoming harder and harder to reach. it bothers me that i don’t have the strength some days to make an effort to think about what i want. i’m so used to molding myself to the whims of others in an effort to keep the peace that i’m beginning to wither and fade, suffocating under the frigid vastness of this unrelenting season.
2 march, 2014
i want to write down everything i feel i haven’t been completely honest about with you. i feel as if you don’t see me clearly and that it’s been made foggy and indistinct from all the wrong conversations, lack of moments, and too much alcohol. i worry that in an effort to grapple with my own insecurities i’ve made myself out to be a woman that is not quite real, that’s not quite me. i haven’t said the words that i couldn’t quite force out and i want to say them to you now. i want a do-over, a restart. i want to introduce myself to you all over again without the hesitation and avoided eye contact. i want to explain how unbearbly awkward i am when it comes to texting. i want to take back that sorry excuse of a joke and how i didn’t end up returning your call immediately. i should’ve called you right back and gone on that walk with you through the humid louisiana night. i should’ve not been so fearful. i want to tell you about my beliefs in god all over again because it didn’t come from a deeper part of my soul like it should have. i want to explain that i am not usually that cranky as i was that last day we worked together and that you unfortunately saw a bad moment within myself that was the inevitable meltdown of weeks of not sleeping, a poor diet, and the shadows of a past love clinging to my every move. i want to tell you more about how i grew up without glossing over the entire decade i’ve tried to mentally wall off. i want to re-do last night not just because it was wrong but because it was so perfect, so perfect on your part. i can still feel the burn of your five o’clock shadow scraping across my bare back and i want to go back and tell you what that did to me. i want to have said your name more. i want to have told you how nervous i was without trying to act like i wasn’t a little over my head with how much i wanted you. i want to go back and tell you how much i enjoy talking to you, however mundane it is. i want to be able to say all of these things but i am worried it may be a little too late and that the world is spinning faster than i can handle.
13 february, 2014
i miss the dog-days of summer, the air static and full of noise. i miss the lightening that makes my heart skip a beat and the sweat that forms on my brow and down the rivets of my spine as i laid with you in your bed. i miss cooling the hot pads of my feet in the tap water of your kitchen sink and when you’d lean in for a kiss i could smell the salt on your skin before tasting it on my tongue. i miss tank tops, cotton dresses, and the hum of ceiling fans with the cicadas buzzing into their crescendos as the breeze slowly shifts the heaviness of the air from one corner of the room to another. we’d find sanctuary in lake michigan and solace in burying our bare feet between the bristles of ryegrass in the park. i miss the sizzle and pop of rain pounding the blistering asphalt and fingers and lips sticky from melted ice cream cones.
1 march, 2013