The day you left I felt the seed
plant in my brain.
The negative thoughts of you caused it to
flourish into a ****,
one that rooted itself in my eyes,
performing dance routines in my sockets,
blurring my vision every step-ball-change,
making my eyes leak the water it tried
so desperately to drink,
drowning me in my own tears,
forcing them down my oesophagus,
gorging me with my own dismal identity,
Muffling my whimpers for help,
as it deflowers my innocent happiness,
and forces it into a pit of despair.

When people walk by me in the street,
and they see the elegant,
amber dandelion,
thriving and expanding out of my ears,
down my nostrils and out of my mouth,
they compliment me on my smile that
seems to pair so well with it,
almost as if it were made for me.
But they fail to see that it is choking me,
blocking my airways,
obscuring my vision and forcing me to the ground
with every clogged breath I breathe.
I could curse the stars and heavens for cursing me,
with the wondrous obscenity that is located under my left eye,
it grows outwards,
haunting my dreams.

It's the reminder of you.
I felt disgusted,
that I still water the plant that attacks me,
But as I watched you walk out of the door I realised
that you were happier this way.

So I am happy to make myself bleed,
as I shall do so better than any king would,
but before you leave,
trim the blooming flower that blinds my eye
and take it with you.

I love this. I want this more often. I am sitting outside in a house that isn't even mine. It smells of saltwater and cigarettes. The cat is purring by my feet as I dance and sing along with Breezy. She is smoking. I am drinking. We are both free, doing what we love and what kills us the most. I remember how it all started. Ella, my boyfriend and I drove to the house, so excited, so happy and cheerful. Breezy had set everything up. And as we poured overly priced Malibu in plastic shot glasses we thanked each other for the memories made this year. We talked about how weird it had been meeting each other; drunk, exactly the same as we were in that moment. We took one, two, three drinks of the coconut flavored venom, as we kept going, pouring another glass of that gasoline in my already burning throat. Music was playing. And it was a mess. Indie music, pop, screamo and reggaeton. Trying to take pictures in which our stomachs looked flat, our ***** perky and our butts round. It was hard. But we were too excited to care. We wanted to fit in, to show everyone that yes, we have friends. I remember stepping on the wet floor right as I took off my uncomfortable heels, and left it where the girls had left theirs: thrown around on the floor. We unzipped each other's dresses and started playing silly games. Eating from a stolen box of chocolates as we whispered secrets around an ugly tablecloth. Make up wipes covered in black and sparkles filled the trashcan up, as we complained about the breakouts of our skin and complimented each other just because. We felt stupid. We felt young. We were having so much fun all alone. In the middle of that stupid teenage chaos, I felt loved. And that is how we fell asleep. Me, in the middle of the bed hugging Ella and holding Xavier's hand. Covers and blankets up to our noses, whilst Breezy lied down at the bottom of the bed singing as she scrolled down instagram. That is the last thing I remember before waking up. And I am thankful for having woken up. Because in 2017 I didn't think I would make it. And that morning I just wished I could live long with those people, the people I love.