i wanna go over there
edison's beautiful somewhere
i don't know where that is
but lately i feel as if
it's some sort of afterlife
and i really wouldn't mind

23:46 // 30.12.17

god, i forgot what it felt like to love you freely
without denial, without repression
just plain, simple, acceptance.

last time, though free, it burned
my wings on fire
and so much for flying.

but now i love you
with an ache inside for how i somehow
miss what never was,
never—but almost. almost.

i love you from a distance,
love you from afar
with a gentle sort of pain
that i don't so much mind anymore

it's kind of comforting
soothing in its familiarity

i guess i didn't forget how it felt
to love you freely
not in this way, at least
because this?

despite occasional jealousy
and anxiety-wrought anger

this... this is new. and it's
okay. good.
better.
like a balm on sore wounds

where before you scorched me,
now i just feel warm
and solid. whole.

certain in the knowledge
that this, undefinable as it may be,
is a love that will define me
without consuming me

and i love this love
i love you
calmly now, a little sadly
but mostly
liberally, easily

freely

sad eyes with the sad smiles
sad songs and tired lies
sad boy with the broken heart
you and sorrow never to part

the worst part of hating you
is how i know that i don't
not really, not truly.
only in moments,
a kind of hatred matched
only by senseless love

hatred inspired by anger
and pain, and
“******* for making me feel like this,
for making me feel this way,
making me feel so deeply—
for making me feel at all.
for making me feel. period.
*******”

i don't like feelings,
and, sometimes, i don't like you
though i will always love you
and that's the truth
so ******* it, *******

you hollowed me out
like a bongo drum
then hit me 'til your hands
were the only things i recognised
and filled me with the sound of you
and gave me a heartbeat
painful and stuttering

i lost my rhythm,
getting lost in you.
so i hate you, i swear i do
but i just can't hate you
as much as i love you
and that's the grinding truth

i am hurt
beyond reason,
wounded
so messily
that the scars will
never heal.

but oh, i will remain so
long as the sun
greets me—
at least in passing.

i will grieve for
sun-kissed skin
that used to be mine.
i will layer up and hide
the deathly pallor
of flesh and bones and misery

our circumstance
dictates our paths
and the sun's shine
has me swallowing my complaints,
and thus:
“whether it hurts is kind of irrelevant”

yet i'm hurting all the same

i am having the same old conversations
with the stars up in the sky;
supine, i ask them how much
of their beauty lingers within me
not much, i think.
silently, they stare back, blinking dazedly

i think i might just sleep now,
and let them blanket my dreams:
cold and dead and burning out, alas, like me
but still shining just enough
to soften the blow of nightmares

i had an epiphany;
you are ethereal,
an ephemeral epoch
within my existence.