problem:* for the longest time, i was in the mindset where *i did not want to die, i just simply did not want to exist.

experiment: this summer, i did just that. i severed ties with most of my friends, cut off communication, and burned down a lot of bridges.

outcome: i lost a lot of friendships but i found parts of myself.

summary: i had two months of inexistence and it sparked with me a desire to live again, a fire within me that had been missing for quite some time now. it taught me how to be okay by myself, but it also taught me that it’s okay to allow good friends to help you better yourself.

error analysis: it’s not okay if you purposely burn bridges down and end friendships on bad notes. they’ll haunt you later. so leave friendships on a good note. if they’re a real friend, you won’t be leaving them; you’ll simply be putting a pause on the friendship. it’s okay to take time for yourself, and it’s also okay if friends want some time for themselves. you should not ever apologize for wanting time for yourself, nor should others.

solution: if you wish to inexist, then isolate yourself for a while. make yourself comfortable being alone. once you are able to be content in isolation, you will naturally want to exist more, both inside and outside of isolation. *allow yourself to let people into your world again.

⠀
              
⠀                       i crave
                          you
                          nex­t to me.

                          i crave
                          your skin
                          on mine.

                          i crave
                          you,
                          to­uching me,
                          feeling me.

                          i crave
                          your lips
                          on mine.

                          i crave you,
                          your love,
                          your warmth.

                          but most of all,
                          i crave
                          you
                          nex­t to me.

                          -BZQ

You held a gun to my head and called it a love letter
                                                 whispering, "I'd do anything for you
except die."
                              But you still sang for me, that night on the rooftop,
                                                                        our legs dangling off the edge
                    and  pinprick flowers cushioning our fall.
I think I understand now why some storms are named after people.
                                     You were a perfect storm. You swept me
off my feet, darling, and you never put me back, did you?
                                                                   there is a creature inside my skull
                         trying to get out what happens
if I cannot contain it as well as I should like?
                                                                The world begins and ends with you,
angel, dawn and a pearly sunrise against my throat,
                      hands clasping mine like a prayer.
Paint me in blue, stars dying all around us. This is how you will know me.
                                 This is the only way I will let myself be known.
Starved and dying and silhouetted against the rising sun.
                                                              You've seen this all before,
                              sweetheart. You've seen my neck,
my collarbones, my hips swaying like a breeze.
This is nothing new.
                                                    I'll wish on old trees and memories
and storms tearing down the earth one town at a time.
                  I feel in all the wrong ways, a thousand and one
errosions of faith
                                 Don't ask me why I do not feel like you do
Ask me how many stars are in the sky, ask me
                                            about the scar on my left cheek and
I will answer you. I will try.

I want that waking up at 6 am to make you breakfast kind of love,
that my friends think I'm absolutely crazy kind of love
the kind of love that is reckless and addicting
that I don't care what you look like I just want to stay up all hours to share secrets kind of love
that every time I see you my heart throbs kind of love
that I see you upset and you don't have to say anything and I already know what to do kind of love
that stand next to me because I love you kind of love
that "you can have the cup with more coffee" kind of love
that you get my heart and the world gets the worst of me kind of love.
that you are my everything kind of love.

Have you ever had that stomach churning, hurricane kind of love?
The kind that makes you stand on your bed at 3am shaking your hair and your head and wiping your face with excitement filled hands.
Have you ever loved someone so much that they begin to slowly invade your thoughts and all the bits in between?
I've had that kind of love only once.
And it's the best kind of love.

today I took 8 shots and i called you

I just wanted to hear your voice

but then I realized I was drunk and stupid so I hungup before you answered

you called me back twice and i was way too terrified to answer

so you texted me asking "who is this?"

and I think the blood in my veins stopped just as fast as the air in my lungs did

I guess I had hope you called back because you actually wanted to talk to me

after 3 text messages you went on ignoring me and you ended up all over my twitter tl looking for another bootycall

it took every muscle, feeling, and bone in my body to keep the tears from streaming out of my eyes and down my cheeks

I think I'm gonna miss you forever

It's been 5 and a half months why are you still in my head?

you're taking over my thoughts
kind of like you took over my heart

and I don't think you're giving them back

When you are home alone sobbing on another Friday night, do not call her and ask her to come back,
you know good and well her answer.
Do not reach across your empty bed to feel if she is still there,
when you know you have carved the date she left into your bedpost,
and now she is hours away wrapping herself like ivy
around a porcelain column, twisted between warm limbs and bedsheets
while you are curled next to your own grief
and tear soaked pillows that still
smell of her shampoo.

Do not make the same mistakes you made this time.