the fear is still here. i feel it, rising
when you look at me.
when you love me.
each of your words string together like
rope
entangling and
erasing me. i wish
i could crave affection even
when i have it.
the things i cannot reach for
drive me away.

the last thing i want to be is away from you.

i can't write these things to you like i used to. you are ... less desperate than you used to be and i am
increasingly inconsistent and brimming
with the desperation i used to see
in you and
i love that, i swear to god i love to see you happy
content, at peace, at least, but
i think you were a crutch
or something
too much
but now that it's gone it's not enough.
all of this
to say
i miss you
and i miss you missing me.

we're all scared of something. heights, caves, clowns, darkness, flight
the way your heart beats mid-fight
the light
in your eyes
fading

degrading,
becoming the person you once hated,

i have those fears,
i do
but i also know that these
material things don't last, don't
affect us as much
as the things
we touch
with our minds,
our forgotten
and rotten
desires

snakeskin folded in our arteries
everyone i don't ,wanna please
and between it all
death

in a thousand
tiny
flicks
of your wrist

                                      is this
                               my disease?
.

do the fingernail marks in my skin make me tough? enough? do
they prove anything about me, prove my worth, prove that
maybe
pain inside me
exists
               am i
                   enough
                           for you  
                                   for once?

today i realized that it might not matter how hard i try. i might not be able to fix myself. i don't know how to connect. everything and everyone gives me anxiety and bores me and confuses me and i don't know what type of interactions and words to select HAGSDJUSKRVYEURSYBEISEVBRKHVFDJHJ

sitting on the corner of depot and main and i'm staring into the forehead of a bleach tan middle ager with a plaid shirt that looks like easter died. im good except i thought summer was like a door with an exit sign but i forgot it's not always greener at the end of the ride

are there ends to these rides? the speed fluctuates faster than i'd like sometimes, i don't know how to adapt to
anything, really.

coping is hard i'll give them that much. no one to call. no one inside me feeling like trying at all.

i always rhyme by the end of these
spreading wings at the end of it all
but i was never too good with estimates
and fast
we
fall

it's the clutter that gets me
down
i can't stop seeing
it ev
erywhere
its here
there
in the place between
the bed
and the
chair
i want it to be gone gone gone gone
i'm always waiting for th
god i wish i didn't
do a
nything
wrong
i want to be purged of
every
memory hanging
from my head
i never
wanted
this
never thought
they'd still be here
i'd still be here
nothing's as temporary
as we need it to be
and
permanence
scares me.

“i’m sorry,” she screams, tears running down her face black and glitter-gold, mixing and sticking in her lipstick. “i didn’t know! you didn’t warn me, didn’t tell me how this was going to go down. this is on you, i swear to god, all of this is you.”