i hope my next life i am a beloved puppy dog or a beautiful monarch butterfly or a strong magnolia tree or at last, a peculiar little girl who finally gets to be, seen when she's not shining, truly loved.

i'm done with everyone.
you hate when i need you, but
you hate it worse when i don't.

how can i win?
i don't even want to play anymore

i don't feel like the earth. i don't want to be earth. i am saturn and her rings. i'm the enormity of jupiter. i am venus, never able to be pinned down. i am not the earth, aching and dying slowly.

closure is a loaded word, isn't it?

it's like love or hate or happiness or sadness — it means something different for everyone.

some people want a saccharine ending, where all of the loose strings tie neatly into place. they want august rainstorms with long, lovely speeches and picture perfect kisses to dazzle even the coldest of hearts.

some people want an ending to end all endings. they live for the drama they can feel in their gut, that rips open their veins and reminds them they're alive. they need the adrenaline that makes their heads spin.

lastly, some people want to hold on some how, some way — whether that means being friends or best friends or acquaintances who nod at one another when they pass on crowded streets. it doesn't matter because, it's all the same. not every love story lasts, and sometimes, people are better as friends, anyway.

me? i'm not sure. my mind, with all of its erratic twists and turns, and my heart, with its snap decisions, haven't ever been in this sort of situation. i don't have any prior knowledge to what this is like, and any movies that end like this, i leave the theatre before.

i guess what i could say is, given all that happened and the way it ended, all i want is one thing —

closure.

i don't need a boyfriend. i need a therapist.
i'm not meant to be the one that got away. I'm meant to be the bullet you dodged.
i'm so yours. i'm so sorry.

So there they stood, staring one another down. It was an act of rebellion in a way, seeing something almost sacred. No one can plan for the sugar shock electric rush.

tomorrow, we duel
(yes, that is pompous to say
- but you once told me my affinity for the dramatic
was something that endeared you to me.
was that a lie, too?)

neither of you fools know quite who you are dealing with.
your mythic ***** has teeth and will bite if prompted.
i don't think you understand what i am capable of.
and i definitely know neither of you recognize how frightfully average you are.

i carved a home out of my own broken bones,
i sang with the freezing january wind,
i walked along highways with nothing to my name but a backpack and an oversized teddy bear.

you do not know half of what i could do
-- and you never will.
you're not worth it.