Hold tight, not to what is familiar but to what is not.
‘Let us loosen our grip sometimes, open up and break free from the corroded mechanism of our life, and let us thereby indulge in living by the seat-of-the-pants allowing unclouded and eye-opening rides.’
- Erik Pevernagie
I often think I never loved you.
I was just a dumb kid after all.
What fifteen year old understands love?
I think I just felt comfortable with you.
My lips had never touched another's.
My arms were use to your embrace.
Your family had welcomed me as their own.
I didn't know how I could break away from it.
Even as you hurt me,
and left me crying countless times,
I couldn't take the steps to get away from you.
The thought of leaving you plagued me.
What would it be like to smell your cologne,
and to recognize it as just another scent.
Or to walk the halls of our school,
without you holding my hand.
I don't think I loved you.
I was just afraid of being alone.
I was use to you.
You were just there.
You were just familiar.
A random thought I had about teenage love. My first real relationship was a toxic mess. And for awhile I tried to figure out how the "love" I felt dissipated so quickly after I broke up with this guy (who was horrible to me), then I realized I had just been comfortable with him. It wasn't anything deeper. Just someone I was use to being with. Not that i didn't care for him. I just didn't love him.
something about you. something about october
the dried up leaves and the way everything feels quiet
in the middle of the day
like living inside of a vhs tape that hasn't been rewound
in a decade or two
makes me want to start visiting the cemetery
make friends with the forgotten
when we ended up walking the dogs there on accident
it felt like coming home
i'll bring my books and a bag of dried cherries, peanut butter
bars of dark chocolate wrapped in gold foil, sunflower seeds
the nightstand with the warped wooden drawer
that's always getting stuck
where i keep the half-melted birthday candles
and a box of matches, just in case
prop my pillow up against a headstone
read vonnegut until i fall asleep
grow closer to death until it doesn't scare me anymore
i used to think ghosts lived in mausoleums but now i know
they live inside of a twenty-four-year-old who watches
the same vampire movie every time it rains
just to feel safe inside the familiarity of the past
i'm still the twelve-year-old girl
just waiting for something to happen to her
i burn my skin in the shower just to feel less alone
before I met the man I love,
I had a bad history of
entering abusive relationships.
it might not make sense,
but a healthy relationship
used to be so much scarier
than an abusive one.
when my ex got angry,
he would hit me.
when my boyfriend gets angry,
he walks away until
he's calm enough to have
a rational conversation.
my ex was predictable.
I knew what was coming.
I could brace myself
for his punches.
I was never unprepared.
the first time that my boyfriend
walked away, my body
physically shook with fear.
because he didn't hit me,
and because violence
was all that I knew,
I was so afraid that
he would come back
with something much
worse than a punch.
he came back with a hug
and an "I love you."
now, I would be afraid
if a man tried to hit me.
it might sound strange,
but I am so happy
to be so scared
because that means
I've stopped wanting abuse.
it means I've finally realized
that I am deserving of love.
and i know one day you'll forget about me
i bet you're all already doing it
i'll be a distant memory
a nostalgic song
you'll remember my rights
and whatever went wrong
but be wary o, you familiar stangers
be wary of my ghost
because i may be gone
but i'll haunt you til the day you cease breathing
i pull away
i don't know what to say,
it's too familiar
at simple questions,
at gentle whispers
we'd spend our evenings
we'd try to capture
by those lattice lies
but i can't talk
i missed so many calls
and i can't think
i just can't get involved
i'm on a break, i just can't take this,
i'm suspending consciousness
has lost all consonance
there's nothing much i miss
i just wanna stay like this
to read my past journal entries is
to walk on an intimately familiar path,
one in which I know the major landmarks,
the steep mountains, and the deep valleys.
even though I can walk on this path
with my eyes closed and get through,
I don't. I slow down on the way,
noticing flowers I didn't see before.
I pluck a leaf off every flower stem,
and keep it safely between my palms.
the leaves remind me of the flowers
that grew despite the harsh conditions.
whenever I wish for a new beginning,
I blow on a leaf and let it guide me.
I smile, exhale, and walk forward.
behind me, new flowers are blooming.
she opened a door somewhere,
and a rhythmic familiar cried
(in tones of unspeakable disgust)
"the blackest passion
will mangle the world
in his mouth"
I like your vibes
No need of introduction
Thus a journey begins
Theme: Intuition and gut instinct matter.