You remind me
Of you
Before you
Were someone new.

On the bedside she see's
the bottle responsible
for keeping her big brother
the way he was before

the 'happy bottle' she named it
and hoped that eventually
big brother will no longer need it
and they could really live happily

But big brother said
he hates the happy bottle
and that when he uses it
it hurts

she grew to hate the happy bottle
because she realized
in her brothers eyes
he was only numbed

Taking the happy bottle
she breaks it
hoping to give her big brother
his happiness back

I always thought art had to be hard.
There had to be some deep inner struggle, some magical spiritual resonance
That gave art meaning

I thought love was about pomp and circumstance
That it had to be verbose, brash
I pined and flirted and thought I knew love
I knew nothing

I haven't changed much
I am a different shape but the same shade
I've found art in puddles, and love in myself
But I'm still learning
I'm sure I'll still write poetry
That's pompous and shallow
But now I'll know a little but more
About the pieces of myself

And maybe one day I'll figure out who I will be.

why do i fall in love with people for the simplest little things?
like the way they say certain words
or that little smirk they do when they get nervous
maybe it's because it reminds me of something from my past
or someone
lately i've been trying not to think about things so hard
one night stands
the looks people give me at the mall
you
you
you.

****

there's an empty garden
the seeds are needed to fill it
someone needs to decorate
filling it with flowers or fruits
sweet, of course
that's my own garden

please dont ask me if i miss it when you know that i do,
please dont ask me how it felt to sit in the passenger seat of your car every day for four months straight.
because i will tell you.
how it felt like yellow lights in a dimly lit café on monday nights,
like ***** snow underneath your tires,
like a resurrection of fresh air after feeling trapped since september.
every now and then i come back to this.
now that it's february and i cant remember what your house smelt like.
i often wonder what your parents think happened to me. and your sister.
i've started to wonder if i would have gone to her wedding with you.
i hope she's happy, and i hope you are too.
don't get me wrong, i needed you to leave i know i did.
sometimes it doesn't feel like you did much for me although i know you did.
sometimes it doesn't feel like you were ever part of me although i know you were.
now that it's the end of february the weather has started to become lighter and i keep finding myself rolling the window down, making the music louder and wanting to sing, wanting to smile, wanting to feel what it's like to be euphoric again and i just, can't.
not right now.
i don't know if a year later can be considered "too soon" but i do know
that i hate you, and the way you made the snow feel like you so now i dont even feel at home when i look out my bedroom window.
i hate you, and the way you made the car feel like our safe space so now i don't feel safe when i'm driving with my mother.
i hate you, and the way you made me think that you would stay,
the way you made me feel like you were going to be a part of my family
the way you threw me away as if it was easy for you.
i hate you for everything that reminds me of you like guitars and troye sivan and sleepovers and driving down the ******* highway and being someone that cares about you so much i'd miss saying goodbye to my dad to spend another night with you.
so don't,
do not
ask me if i miss it
when you think you know that i do.
because i don't miss any of it.
not anymore.

"What was the first thing you did for last time in your life?"

"I loved someone."

Sometimes there's just no one.
To hold, to love, to want.
Sometimes there's just nothing.
To feel, to have, to carry.

Sometimes there's just someone.
To fight, to hate, to forget.
Sometimes there's just something.
To throw, to punch, to discard.

That's okay, too.