Kisses like lighter fluid and the world was out of matches. How there were never enough corners or dimly lit rooms. When parties just meant you didn't have to change the sheets and the music was always just loud enough. But change you did, and how my breath was taken away every time till there was just no oxygen left to fuel the fire...
This heart I hold can't hold me back from you.
loving you to lose you
"I hate you now as much as I will ever hate you."
Our fingers laced with strained prose and my blooming heart.
There's only so many ways to tell you this without us both realizing we might have not yet learned our lesson.
The truth is, there's no way for me to know how much this really hurts. I've cast myself numb to the touches of future lovers and to be honest I've said too many times that I would cast this out of my mind but, baby, if you loved me, would you leave me?
Could we bury this romance in a candlelight processional and a chorus of holy reverence, how long could we hold each other till our arms crumbled to dust under the six feet of people we once were?
Would our kisses turn to ash so close to new flames we might light?... could either of us stand the flames?
We'll be okay, I know in time this too shall fade but once, I had high hopes. Once I was left confused crying to a plane window and you couldn't tell me anything to ease the chaos in my mind. Why would you offer yourself to me like that if you didn't want me too?
I'm so stressed, pressing on for answers but, maybe there's nothing to find.
I'll move forward.
I couldn't 'hate' you more.
To denounce your right to know.
Who to love and how to hold them
...whenever you work up the courage to.
"I will love you forever, whenever you want me to..."
Yesterday, I beat the **** out of a TV with my father's golf club.
The day before that I beat the **** out of myself just thinking about every moment I ever thought about you.
"Surrounded, your blood, skin and pleasure drown me out."
You mentioned holding her hand in the breakroom and my mind couldn't help fleshing it out. The glaring pine tabletop reflecting the shine in her eyes. Her body leaned forward, yours relaxed but arm outstretched, hand curled to cup the outside of hers till she rolls her wrist and you rub your thumb over her knuckles... But I couldn't draw all that. A sketch never hurt so bad.
"I'm not one to be..
want what you want"
I want to be whole again.
I wake up and I keep forgetting
"I'm not accusing you of being in love with me but, that's how I felt when I had my heart broken"
I think I'm just used to sending nudes
I am shaking up the filament again. This flickering bulb can hardly illuminate half of how much I've ****** up now.
How weak was I to try and be the judge of my own feelings.
How I was better off leaving them in your hands, to be thrown by the words spilling out of your mouth and the stature of your scared heart.
I was losing myself in how vehemently I refused to be lost in you. Confused by the twisting pull of our hands together and cringing at the pop of your bones as they flexed to hold me.
And when I finally laid still, how tears leapt without warning and I still refused to let you see them.
Still, I wanted to scream it was not okay, that I would not kiss you, that I wished we said goodbye a week ago, in casual passing, not now.
And I wished it was just timing that had us so vulnerable, nothing but lighting and flux hormones.
But the truth is, I don't know.
And I'll never know how ****** I am for this or if I could've truly loved us or if you could've of held me without popping or if I would've even let you.
I know nothing of keeping myself in line. Of what it's like to remain still, sitting on my hands for days turned to weeks folded into months packed into years. I know nothing of this reserved pain that's quietly pacing my spine. I know nothing as to if I've done what was best. Or if I've just hurt us both. Like I usually do.
this current lack of knowledge
make art everywhere
undress the lucky ones just to find out what makes them tick.
know a boy for 4 days, decide you like his personality, kiss him behind your best friends shed
stop acting like there's something more to the hurried way he lights his cigarettes.
It was never supposed to happen like this.
but, i fell in love with the way you broke your promises
I spent weeks breathing air only to realize it was only the way you grabbed my hips that mattered.
stuck in this endless loop of trying to teach the sun to forgive and the moon to forget
i've been lost in moments of tilted sunlight and dancing fingertips.
Now I'm thinking maybe I never loved you more than this.
yes, I drank the darkness
tell dad i'm off to get drunk with the creator.
I'm only a rough draft with tentative revisions lying on your bedside table. This is what happens to me at night.
yes, I drank the darkness.
This is how I stay up trying to capture the memory of light before it was ****** into your coffee cup eyes. Trying to understand how I continuously fit so perfectly into your palms after I've told myself for months that I'd outgrown your games. And when we fell in the mud I screamed I would not get cleaned up at your place but, took your hand anyway. Cuz' it was always a ***** little love we had anyways. But, I'll tell you what, it ***** realizing your life is full of a bunch of romantic metaphors that don't mean jack ****. And that rain falls through roofs every once in a while in a healthy home but, I've just been saying my palms were enough defense against this storm. Is it okay to ask for help now? Lightning, the old frenemy, has split me right open and no this is not an excuse to dig. I just need a warm body to carry me home tonight.
I don't want your pity I want art.
you're not the man of my dreams but you're this boy that'll do.
ramblings really, feel free to dissect and give feedback
WRITERS NEED HELP WHEN// they try to write songs about happy things cuz' Lord knows, we're not cut out for that
WRITERS NEED HELP WHEN// coffee or tea no longer suffices and they instead pick up a lover to help sort out their poetic devices.
WRITERS NEED HELP WHEN// pain stops being a reminder of life and instead takes over as prime muse and limelight entertainment.
WRITERS NEED HELP WHEN// they cry and the only thing you can discern from the wreckage are the simple words, "I need to write more."
just yr neighborhood public service announcement
I don't see the purpose of apologies for mutual mistakes.
We both ****** up. Same time. Same place. It's okay if we just never bring it up again.
This hurts but I swear this is what I needed.
Im getting stronger, right?
This is how I imagine I will tell the story of us:
When I was sixteen I spent six months cuddling, laughing and picking my bra up off the same guy's floor once a week, every week. He would pick me up in front of my house and we would hold hands on the way to his house while he told me about traffic and family and jobs and his dependence on caffeine. And sometimes when we stopped at a red light he would rest his head on my shoulder and if a song he liked was playing he'd lift our intertwined fingers into a fist bump just to make me giggle. We'd pull up to his house and he'd tell me who was there by the number of cars parked out front. Then we'd get out and hold hands up the path to his door breaking momentarily so he could unlock it. His dog didn't bark after the first two weeks and after I took my shoes off I'd always back up into the family room and sit on my heels to rub its stomach. Once he got his boots off we intertwine fingers once again and climb the stairs, sometimes I'd lead, sometimes he would. There was a small ledge that stuck out from the wall and I would always rest my elbows there while he fumbled with his keys again to unlock his bedroom door. Then he'd open the door and sit on the bed while I took off my jacket and set my old, cracked crossover purse on the bedside table resting on the wall. He'd talk about choosing a movie from his collection but that would just lead to me telling him I didn't know what we should watch and that I really didn't mind. Then he'd look up from his post, simultaneously pulling me to him and I'd lean down to kiss him. Every time. We both knew we wouldn't be watching the movie for long. And so we'd lay down, my head on his chest and after a few minutes he'd kiss my forehead and I'd look up, and he'd kiss me so softly, so slowly, so lovingly that I knew he knew exactly what he did to me. And that's how it went.
Deep down I know this won't make me love you.
And I don't want it to either...
"Why do you choose to believe we'd all be better off if you died?"
I'm never a character in my own good dreams...
Everything's beautiful in the darkness. If you get far enough past the fear you could even fall for the abyss.
turn off the light baby, come to bed
I wish you'd hold me even when I push back.
i feel like we're just a happening of circumstances
It takes much more than this to make love last.
how much more? i'm not sure
Love me like a head rush.
Consuming, numb and fleeting.
.let me be your focused blur
Right now I'm thinking about us and it's equal parts "I don't want to be alone just yet." and "I'm gonna draw this out until it kills you to hear my laugh."
never quite ready to be alone I'm much more partial to being detached but still playing along till I lock in on something better. For both of us really.
Is there a reason you don't deserve happiness?
"I used to run away from home when I was younger..."
where it begins.
You're every corner of this earth something beautiful died in.
I'm shaking. So tired of these twisted definitions of love.
this cannot be it.
There's a war raging between what I want and what I'm strong enough to handle.
You whispered not to breathe each time we passed a cemetery.
But, now you're gone &
I'm coming to terms with
*pause* inhale *pause* how am i supposed to let go?
Love me like you never got tired of playing tag between the swings.
Love me like skinned knees only hurt in that moment you noticed them.
Love me like being anything I wanted to be was being a superhero with you.
Love me like your favorite character was always the villian.
Love me from afar but also like you learn a language.
Up close and formal, then with every bad word in the book.
Love me like your hands could never get tired of my curves and your lips numbed with admiration.
Love me like you could withstand the storm I bring to town every now and then.
Love me like you're tired of pretending that bottle could wash away the pain.
Love me like I make this all worth it.
Love me like you could begin to learn to love yourself.
gentle suggestions my sweet
Can't tell if it's real 'cuz you're on and off.
cuz yr on and off
I've been collecting shades of life and it seems all I really have is a gradient scale of tired eyes and restless hands. This is the reality of it all and to be honest I just wanted my name to roll like thunder in your dreams. I lost my will to hold my own against the tide and that's when it all began. Typical girl, I always looked at you like you put stars in the sky but, it's broad daylight and baby, you've never touched a star. And you sicken me with your bedroom philosophy as if you were ever a scholar on church steps. And I'm one shade too tired to pretend this doesn't ruin me. So pack up and leave me. And I'll say hello to this clusterfuck of things thy never made me feel so good.
Cuz it's not about being sad all the time. It's about knowing emotional exhaustion like the well versed, back of your hand. Resistance is drowning every time you close your eyes and still knowing deep down, The Show Must Go On. Now I'm just lying here inhaling oceans and you still think it's a good idea to talk about the sunset from her window. And the only thing that shouts out at me from all of this is how everything seems so ****** and so small to me frequently. So I throw up my good intentions and all the reasons I thought this could be a vigil to a time I felt wanted and I laugh cuz Cupid just won't stop shooting me with these dull arrows. I mean, have I not been here before? This silence I hear when I'm alone; Am I really surprised by the way it holds me? And have I not bought real estate with the familiarity of it all? Don't dwell on it, though. If anything just remember, this is not bitter failure, this is the recovery.
This is learning and such is life.
"clusterfuck of things that never made me feel so good"
It's a different kind of love that wraps itself around your neck and leaves you gasping for a breath of air that, all at once, supplies itself as him.
Perhaps it's because I only ever wanted you to treat me like a woman when I was nothing but a girl.
Do you think I like being covered in tired skin?
truest thing I've written to the masses
Hush, stay quiet for the air present now is far too sweet to speak into. At least, that's what you tell yourself when you're choking on poetic devices and stifling screaming kisses. You don't care too much, do you? At least that's what you care to believe even though the anxiety is causing you to throw up every last glance you shared with him in passing. And you palms are sweating out every last drop of why you ever thought this was love. "Tommorrow's a new day." you say even when you can't bear to go to sleep for fear of waking up in this same hell. Realizing you've just missed out on another way out. Have you lost you mind yet or is that another thing you won't believe? What is there to tell yourself now?
"Use your best judgement."
"when we've already established that I don't know what I'm doing?!"
"Such is life."
"Such is life."
the only thing I've kept.
Now I know why I'm not allowed to write in the morning. Cuz that's when you're most potent. Last night you told me it could've been different and I told you that we couldn't go back and change that. And all I was really thinking was that if I fell in, would you catch me or watch me sink? And the part that really confuses me is I can't imagine it either way. I can imagine the sun setting on some foreign rolling hill or torrents of rain pouring down in a bright blue sky but, I can't imagine you catching me or letting me drown. And that's why I don't think this is something planned. This isn't even something that was meant to happen. Darker nights and softer lullabies send me to sleep faster than you do. Don't mention it, I'll be gone before morning, now just do your part and get out of my head.
fuvk, this is why I don't write in the morning.
nothing makes me feel more alone than the way I'm in love with the idea of love. And how every new prospect drowns me in dreams of what we could be, who I should be, how this could happen and how it won't. Touching palms like we'd never torn apart anything of value and drawing parallels in the way we both sleep on only one side of the bed. Locking eyes like mirrors never made us want to cry and clutching memories like the hair on the back of your neck mid kiss. Let me know I'm yours, if only for tonight. Calling dibs through the flames and sending kisses to the escape. This is what I wanted but, I still can't get this web of missed connections cleared out in time. I'm in like with a boy who loves movies and a girl who defines sexuality. I'm in heat with a boy with weathered hands just because they make me think he's capable to handle the storm. I'm in awe with a boy channeling an ivy leaguer and a wise suburban coffeehouse. Wish me luck because I just don't think I can pull enough seats to the table to coexist with all my dreams and frantic attempts at being somebody I'm not. Who knows and who doesn't but most importantly who cares? Break this bread and let live. Take me or leave me.
i hate crushing.
Jokes on you, Main Street doesn't shut up at night.
With everything so fragile, I guess words really do hurt.
paper kingdom poetry, again really doesn't apply to me but for someone else it does.
One day I'll say I'm over you. I'll mean it.
I can't concretely say this applies to me but, there's honor in finding words to say it for someone else.
But, the you that I knew will not be forgot.
Home of the sea
wavering and beautiful,
take these tipsy hips home tonight.
This dress is already ruined.
rules are nothing but, good intended suggestions. at least for tonight
shoutout to the girls who have become strangers with their first kiss and held lipsticks like paintbrushes on their fingertips. I am one of you now.
this ones for tyler, you never deserved it but it happened nonetheless. so much for magic carry on.
I was a child of forever laced with broken promises and memories of every fire you ever lit and forgot to put out.
this is what we feel, and I'm in love with the flames.
Here is my mouth and here is every nook and cranny lost in translation straining to make sense.
Here are my hands grasping for the sunset and drawing words in the air when my voice isn't working.
Here are my arteries and here are my veins, unleash me.
Here I stand and here I lay.
On my back,
behind the church,
soiling my dress,
Scowling at the sky just in case God happened to be glancing down in disapproval.
But, grief is a freight train with no warning signs.
And while I was adopting the feel of the cement you were burying my heart in the cracks of your hands.
Tell me; if it didn't make your heart stop and your memories rage in a split second loop,
was it even a kiss at all?
How I wish to be well acquainted with the river that runs by your grave every time it rains.
Visiting for tea and a glimpse of what used to be when it feels like could never be the same.
It doesn't help that I'm still trying to guess how long the water will take until it's too hot to handle and pushing the limit even then.
Take me back to our little loverance. I'm feeling one shade too tired to be a fighter.
Make me question wearing this color to your funeral and emptying my playlist before you came.
Weird is the new black so best believe I'm feeling downright strange.
Love me anyway.
I've been trying to teach the sun to forgive and the moon to forget.
But, I guess I was mistaken, God only cares on Sundays.
Bring me the easel and grab the pastels.
We're on our own.
One part defiant optimistic two parts nostalgic realist
Don't look at me like that.
I'll love you just like the sane girls do.
I just can't promise I'll favor your touch over the hailstorm outside.
There's nothing to chase away and I'm busy blaming all of my afflictions on past lives and passing clouds.
Take me back to the forever children with heavy sighs and empty pockets. Laced with broken promises and tired hands that can't bear to pass judgement on the curves of my tipsy hips. Get drunk off this spirit tonight. Let's explore the sweet spots in the blueprints of our bodies. Let me mark em with honey and let the bees loose. Send kisses to the pilots with green eyes and dead lips. For if they will never know pain and I will never know hunger quite like I know you. In a perfect world they wouldn't. In a perfect world I would. I just never know what to say and I'm not sure if I trust my mouth to make statements at a time like this. That's what this necklace is for right? And these rain boots? Let it pour. Here is my mouth and here is ever nook and cranny in my hands that signed over their rights to you. It's a buzz baby. Drown me until I remember my lungs love me anyway and the cathedral steps would miss me.
Kiss me like I never had a reason to run.
one part teasing two part past mistake
tales from the neglected side of your sunny side ups and reminders of how it feels to be down. how it felt when you used to check the bottoms of your shoes for molasses in the morning thinking that there had to be something there slowing you down as you trudged into the room. Mama told you to pick up your feet you told her to shut the **** up and listen to the signs as you listened to your heartbeat with the old stethoscope you found in the basement. Gods favorite little tune on repeat as you recalled all the reasons you would say goodbye if you could. Keeping rhythm with the idea that you're alive when you maybe shouldn't be and that in some sick way you would switch everything off just to get this ******* song out of your head. But, silence is maddening at this time of night and deep down you know you just wish you could remember what it was like to be sunny side up again.
two parts angry, one part sad
— The End —