you dont love me now
and i know, and i feel it
and dear God, it hurts

you are eighteen and you're in love
with a boy who hates his birthday.
you don't know it yet,
but the world gets so much bigger than the back of his car.
you think he needs you to be happy and so does he
but both of you are wrong.
it'll take you almost a year to stop crying.
and then you don't talk for another three
and when you finally do,
he thinks he still knows you,
but your heart is heavier than it was then.
and you **** him because you're lonely
but it isn't the same.
neither of you can fake love.
at least he still makes you laugh.
you'll pretend it's enough
because at least he's a body.
at least you're not by yourself.
at least you're alive
and you're good at *******.
because bodies are distractions
from the things we hide inside them.
you have him inside you
and he wants to gut you of your ugly, your sad.
he scrambles for an excuse not to stay the night
and you laugh.
you know what this is and how it goes
and you both love someone else.
you swear you won't **** him again
but you do anyway because you're still lonely
and you like the way his hands fit around your neck.
you **** him because it's good for your art
and you get bored of your own hands on your body
and you're fine with letting him feel useful.
and you think about when you were sixteen
and how *** was supposed to be special
and it makes you cry
because you're not who you wanted to be.
it makes you cry, because the world got so much bigger
after you left the backseat of his car.
the world is so big and you don't know
how it ended up on your shoulders.
you would have died for him.
you have been ready to die for every person you have ever loved.
you have dreams where he dies
and you can't save him.
you have dreams where people die
and you can't save them
and you're the one who tied your hands.
your mangled heart and all its bleeding.
nobody asked you to die.
what good is all the love in your chest
if you don't leave any for yourself?

- m.f.

are you strong-willed?
                     nothing can break me
                     i'm already broken
did i hurt you?
                      no one can hurt me
                      you're going to
did someone hurt you?
                       no one can hurt me.
                       he ripped my heart out and i
                       still haven't found it
are you scared?
                       fearless
                       terrified
how did you wait for me for so long?
                       patience is a virtue, my friend
                       i've been on my knees for years
can you handle it?
                        i'm ready.
                       i'm so scared
your eyes lack life
                        i'm complete
                       please don't look at me
are you happy?
                         i'm at peace
                        never
do you want me to stop?
                          maybe
                         please
why won't you let me in?
                          i'm not a stranger
                         it hurts
                         please it hurts
                         stay away, please go away
                         *please make it stop

I've stayed in a lot of houses in my life, none of which I ever intended to stay for long.
Most of them open easily - there are no locks
just welcoming hosts, always with that same perfidious smile on their face.
They expect me to fall at their feet but they don't know yet that
I am the drug and they are the addict and when they whip up a whirlwind to drag me in I show them how much of a ******* hurricane I really am.
You see, I jump door to door
because my own house is haunted.
maybe once it was a home, but it is now unrecognisable.
All with locks and the windows are sealed shut, it's filled from basement to attic with ghosts who are mourning their losses and grudging their mistakes.

I don't know whether I'm locked in or locked out, and I can't tell you which is worse.

Well, you got me
There, I said it:
I love you and
I love you madly and
I’m not as drunk as you think and
I want to be with you forever
And, Hello? Are you still there?
Talk to you tomorrow.
Goodnight…
So thanks for that,
Ironing my thick skin
So that it’s paper-thin.
I’m feeling
A little more vulnerable
Than yesterday,
A bit more ashamed
To put these emotions
To my name.
Thanks for tricking me,
You’ve proved me naïve
And if I weren’t so busy
Being thankful
I’d probably be ******
That the sun never rises
Exactly when it’s supposed to
And that you drove
In and out of my life
Without
Even breezing through
The rest stop.