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Gracie Apr 2019
you said i didn’t know how it felt to have my heart broken,
something about me being too young, too cynical to understand.
maybe i didn’t spend nights crying over the boy who cheated on me,
or felt sick to my stomach over the thought of him with someone else

but I’ve stood in a white room, stripped bare on command to
show the self inflicted wounds coating my my arms, legs and stomach
and i heard the gasp of pain and anguish come from my mothers mouth
as she laid eyes on my frame,
unable to tear my eyes from the ground and meet hers but hearing
all too loudly the quiet sobs as she buried her head in my father's shoulder
and he in turn, choked at the sight of me.

and when i looked up, finally, with dry eyes and a blank face,
i saw almost all the colour drained from him, only red underneath
his eyes to break from the whiteness of his skin, like a weeping ghost.
i saw the shake in her hands, clasped as though she was praying to god,
wondering if he had abandoned her in that moment.
fearing that i was one missed phone call away from meeting him.

i heard her heart break into tiny pieces,
i watched his almost come out of his throat
and mine, in turn, shrivel away like a slug that had been doused with salt.

don’t tell me i dont know heartbreak.
the two hearts that made me i broke in 5 minutes
and ive split my own in half to make up for their loss.
to try and repay them for what i destroyed.
and maybe i don’t have much left to give after that.
not much hope or joy left to share

but when i invite you into my home,
you’ll see one half in her green eyes
and hear the other in his voice.
and i hope then you’ll know, just how acquainted i am with the heart
and just how it feels when it breaks.
Gracie Mar 2019
you found me far from home, cold on a swing, feet buried in the sand.
you wrenched a laugh out from under the lump in my throat.
i smiled, that night, lay on my back in the dark , giddy from the thought
of you.

the next day i went back to where you found me, and waited.
you came, and we spent a day so magical i almost forgot
the deep waters waiting to swallow us whole at departure.
we spent 3 days together, and it never occurred to me that
i'd never see you again. you kissed me goodbye.
it was hopeless, i convinced myself it was romantic.

when i came back to reality, and i was back in my bed,
far far away from where you'd found me, i stayed awake at night.
went through it all in order,
The first words, ‘’do you speak english?’’,
the way your grin stopped me dead in my tracks,
how the sun kissed sand we sat on burned patterns into my thighs,
the creaking of the swings as they went, up and down, up and down.
every small meaningless detail, until, goodbye.

i hated the feeling of nostalgia, but i didn't want to forget.
we spoke through message everyday, planned our lives.
you said you'd come over on my 16th birthday.
we we're almost lovers.
i told you every night, i love you i love you i love you
you were always asleep by then.



you felt it was wrong, told me it was alright,
you could wait. so i explored myself, and found comfort in
cold places with other people
the sunburn on my chest faded and i forgot,
forgot how everything felt

you fell asleep waiting for me to come home and
you woke with no messages. i exhausted you.
the love was still there, just buried somewhere in the sand,
where we left it,
i had hoped the water would wash it away and find you again.
empty, cold conversations.
i let you down.
you vanished.

i hope you are good, i hope you think of me
Sometimes.
Gracie Mar 2019
''are you okay?'' they ask, as i tighten the noose around my neck
''yeah, you?'' I reply, stepping onto the chair.
they look down, avoid my eyes,
''can i do anything to help ?'' they ask
and yet, do not move from where they watch me.
''kick the ******* chair.'' i tell them ,
but they do not do that either.
they just stare, with their big ******* eyes and their mouths drawn
in a straight, dead line,
they say ‘’don’t do that, you’re better than that.’’
but when I dangle, they don’t flinch,
turn away instead and choose to ignore
the grasping and croaking

they’ll take a picture though, when the ropes snapped and
the chair’s put in the corner for another time
and ive plastered a grin to distract from the roaring red lines on my neck
they’ll take a picture to remind themselves,
what ‘’we’’ went through, they didn't cut the rope but oh, how relieved they are
it snapped.
and they want everyone to know, they were there for me then.
Gracie Mar 2019
it feels like we're sitting in the waiting room,
impatient to see a doctor who will only
outline, whats wrong with us.
i don't know why we're waiting ,
what's the rush?
there's plenty of time to be told about
the dark & grimy parts of ourselves
plenty of time to fall apart.
i could avoid those doors, if i truly wanted to
i could walk back home and never know
what we're made of.
ignorance is bliss after all.
so why, why am i sitting with you in
this dull white room, talking about the weather
and asking about things neither of us really care
about, hearing but not listening to the sound
of the plastic chairs we sit on groan and creak
in protest as we try to inch closer to one another.
Gracie Mar 2019
i feel like someone's dumped cold water over me
snapped me awake from some ludicrous dream i
clung onto. one i dismissed my alarm for
and pressed my cheek to my pillow, eyes clenched shut
and begging,
take me back take me back I never saw how it ended

im so angry, no matter how many sheep
i count i can't drift off like that again
and when i close my eyes i feel like I'm staring into
the back window of an ambulance.
it feels cold here, grim, like ive lost someone dear

and maybe, it's not that deep.
and ill turn my alarm off for another dream one morning.
when the sun is bright and i can feel it drift between my
blinds and warm strips of my skin.

but right now im wide awake, and my blankets
are soaked over me, and i swear,
ill never forgive who held that bucket
and ill never forget the tiny little black hole on the back of that ambulance

and i will forever claw at the seams of my pillow,
until i find that dream again.
Gracie Mar 2019
im sorry i didn't write about you to the extent i could have
i didn't do you justice then, but i will now
i will write about how you inspire me,
About how from the moment  you asked me
that dumb question outside the toilets of gay bar,
i knew you were worth writing about.

i will write about how you embody love, embrace it
with your whole body and spread it with one brief touch of your palm on my shoulder as you go by.
i will write about the red lights we walk under
and all the other colors we encounter.
i will write about the giddy glances, the new inside jokes, the spilled sugar on the table.

i will write about how kind you are, and how it was never hard to tell you about all the boys and girls I've loved and lost,
and how you in turn, have loved and lost.
but, as a friend, as a lover, as a son,a brother, as a writer,
you love like a ******* lion, wholeheartedly, proud;
chest out for the world to see.

you write in callibra,
a font ive never been fond of.
but it looks good on you.
Gracie Mar 2019
''you knew who i was from the start and i know you now,''

you're only partially wrong, at the start I knew you,
i knew where we stood.
But now the closer we get the more lost
i become.

you struck me at the most unexpected time
you were a bold strike of lightning hitting me dead on,
you buckled me and rewired my mind while i
was down.
i woke up with your electricity in my veins.

i hate you for changing the world around me,
i hate that you started something in me im not
strong enough to finish
i hate that you'll leave and ill look for you in
every stranger.

i admire the way you are unapologetically yourself
and how you believe in god, despite everything,
despite how you yourself are a beacon of hope
and power. the only one ive ever known.

and i don't half love the way you challenge me,
push me to stand on my own two feet and
start fires in the void parts of me
but it terrifies me, how you're burning up
everything that makes me myself.

when did the voice inside my head become yours?

— The End —