haley

haley Nov 2014

i don't believe in god but i believe in us

lately the tears have been coming easier and i don't know if it's from loss or from gain but i do know that i feel everything.
souls became real to me when mine wept into my favorite jacket at the sound of my best friend's voice breaking over the phone, and when it pressed up through my skin and forgot my body so that it could comfort every damaged mind it could sense.
my heart hurts for me but it hurts more for you, and him, and her, and them, because they will never understand what it means to care this **** much.
when the wind howls and rattles your shutters tonight, listen for my name.
it knows me better than anyone.

haley Nov 2014

Untitled

it's 6:12 in the evening
and i have just arrived home
after a long day of listening
and seething
(and crying)
and drowning
in a sea of oppression brought
upon me not by my choice
but by my mere birth
while those around me argue
that i can't be drowning
because they don't know what
water looks like

sexism

#feminist

haley Sep 2014

leftovers

the problem with attachment is that
it has to end.

and the stronger the connection,
the harder the end hits.

it's these thoughts that plague me
when i wonder who i was
before you:

what parts of me are really me
and which parts of me
are actually you?

will i ever be able to distinguish between the two?

haley Sep 2014

burn

i hope when that song comes on
your lips curl up before they curl down

i hope when the first note registers your remember happy moments
the long runs in autumn
the conversations held at 1 am
the days spent just lazing in each other's company
the unforgettable concerts

and i hope that when the second note registers,
your stomach drops and your heart soars up in your throat

i hope a lump like a coal forms in your throat
and salt water rivers course down your face

i hope i ruin all of your favorite songs

i hope it burns you when i leave

haley Aug 2014

growing up and apart

all i know is that
when you're gone
i need you the most.

i guess i took you for granted.
even right when you left,
i was okay.
i was able to laugh and smile freely,
until the adrenaline ran dry
and i was still
and quiet.

it was the thought
"you will never be by my side for
longer than several days
ever again"
that lit me on fire.

i cried until i was hoarse
and even now my throat physically aches.

i didn't know missing you would hurt so bad.
i didn't know growing up would break my heart.

haley Jul 2014

when the end comes

when the train comes,
i want to feel it.
i'll press my feet into the ground
and absorb the quaking as it approaches,
my fingertips kissing the rail.
when the message comes,
i want to hear it.
i wont turn away.
i'll turn up the volume and sit in silence.'
when the pain comes,
i want it to wreck me.
i want it to give me back to myself.
i'll let it consume me,
then i'll spit it out
and laugh in it's face.

i'm ready when the pain comes.

haley Jun 2014

god

we wished as children to hold some sort of power:
to be remarkable, special, vital.
we created worlds in which we reigned supreme,
we could have anything, do anything, be anything.
we got lost in the homes we made in our heads;
the supernatural world followed us into our sleep.
we cast our ties to reality into the void
and became our dreams, our lies.
we believed in our new-found independence;
i lost faith in god.
we found found ourselves:
we were gods.