Dec 2015
No
I don't love like that anymore.
like I'm expecting to find love at the bottom of a bottle of Jack. like I'm laying in bed with no intent of getting up, definitely in no mood to relax. drowning myself in these saline tears to escape the feeling of your touch or present being. like keeping an unwelcome stranger in your own home. I don't know. I just don't love like that anymore.
I love like reading a favorite book over and over again. close to forgetting its ending. nearest to its destination. discovering it all over again. love like that cigarette smile smoke seeping from lips, rainy mornings full of unchecked to-do lists. I love waking for the sunrise. I love how I've loved them once, yet inside slowly died. I've heard your name. and the hair on the back of my neck happened to rise.
remember all of those anxiety attacks and fits of frustration? remember bone breaking. fists clenching till it meets a face but black and blue doesn't erase. I don't love like that anymore. a continual questioning of my self worth, like being forced to confront your worst fears. it's not the same as swallowing worry when seeing your father after 5 years. somewhat similar to crying till it steals your breath or taking a cold shower. trying to feel like less of an entire mess. at least I do not accept love like this anymore.
I love like opening to the first page of a book. and finishing the last. I love just as the way the ocean turns its tides. reminds me how painfully I would write and write. reruns of pen and ink. the pages filled with my heart turning black and white. never stopped writing letters to those who don't love. I love all of this- but not in a lost blooming hatred and consuming way anymore, wholly, fully, with no regard for life as I know it. I love the pen running riot since words are wrapped in risk.
what I'm saying is loving isn't painful so much anymore. it doesn't stretch my heartstrings to a point of no return. even when out of tune with no intent of tuning out the tones of the deaf. loving feels situational. sometimes loving feels habitual, considering the context. loving is beginning to feel like sunsets.
at the end of the day, I wonder if sunsets feel all the loving I feel in a similar way. if love isn't the end of a bottle the end of the rope the end of it all anymore. then I love like I wish I could love how I have never loved before.
I don't love like that anymore.
like I'm expecting to find love at the bottom of a bottle of Jack. like I'm laying in bed with no intent of getting up, definitely in no mood to relax. drowning myself in these saline tears to escape the feeling of your touch or present being. like keeping an unwelcome stranger in your own home. I don't know. I just don't love like that anymore.
I love like reading a favorite book over and over again. close to forgetting its ending. nearest to its destination. discovering it all over again. love like that cigarette smile smoke seeping from lips, rainy mornings full of unchecked to-do lists. I love waking for the sunrise. I love how I've loved them once, yet inside slowly died. I've heard your name. and the hair on the back of my neck happened to rise.
remember all of those anxiety attacks and fits of frustration? remember bone breaking. fists clenching till it meets a face but black and blue doesn't erase. I don't love like that anymore. a continual questioning of my self worth, like being forced to confront your worst fears. it's not the same as swallowing worry when seeing your father after 5 years. somewhat similar to crying till it steals your breath or taking a cold shower. trying to feel like less of an entire mess. at least I do not accept love like this anymore.
I love like opening to the first page of a book. and finishing the last. I love just as the way the ocean turns its tides. reminds me how painfully I would write and write. reruns of pen and ink. the pages filled with my heart turning black and white. never stopped writing letters to those who don't love. I love all of this- but not in a lost blooming hatred and consuming way anymore, wholly, fully, with no regard for life as I know it. I love the pen running riot since words are wrapped in risk.
what I'm saying is loving isn't painful so much anymore. it doesn't stretch my heartstrings to a point of no return. even when out of tune with no intent of tuning out the tones of the deaf. loving feels situational. sometimes loving feels habitual, considering the context. loving is beginning to feel like sunsets.
at the end of the day, I wonder if sunsets feel all the loving I feel in a similar way. if love isn't the end of a bottle the end of the rope the end of it all anymore. then I love like I wish I could love how I have never loved before.
