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541 · May 2015
drink
josephine May 2015
my makeup looks different when I cry, and I don't know who you are anymore. I've pulled out my hair far too many times to actually be in love with you. I hope you drown yourself in alcohol that tastes like how we used to be. all of my friends have cut their hair, and they don't sing songs from the radio. I've changed what I order from menus that were routine for years. sometimes I don't recognize myself when I look in the mirror. maybe it's because now I can see through my eyes. not in the way that they're faded or foggy or finally dry from all of the tears. I see myself, a person who goes outside when she feels like she can and reads books until the dog-eared pages are lined up like soldiers. so I hope you remember how I used to be. days of poking and prodding at body parts I wish I didn't have are over. please remember how you fed off of my sadness and took it from me. you did not break my heart to make me sad, you tore it from my chest and handed it back to me so I could brush it off and start over again. thank you for giving me back my heart, I never wanted it to belong to you. but I'm sorry that my sadness soaked through your fingertips and into your blood veins. I can't smile without thinking that you may be crying into your palms without any reason. please remember who I used to be, that is you now. I hope you drown yourself in alcohol that tastes like your tears, maybe you'll feel sick. but maybe you'll be too hungover (on me) to notice.
494 · Apr 2015
the old state
josephine Apr 2015
sometimes people move away
move on
move forward, backward, side to side
some people just move in place
the heartbeat of being in love with a person is different than that of falling in love with their heart
ever notice how people say your name?
probably just based on the emotion they feel towards the syllables of your great unknown
self-medicating themselves to the touch of your skin
kissing someone with so much passion that the tips of their noses go completely numb
spin a globe and watch it land on the location of your beloved
a lightbulb of everlasting amazement
the continuation of someone with OCD
constantly unbuttoning and redoing their jacket
being a stranger in your own mind
moving sideways in time
the dimensions that you create all on your own
something complex and with strong opinion
a place that you reside but do not wish to
a setting of great intelligent wisdom and sometimes also fortune
your mind
where you can't ever move from

— The End —