Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Natasha Feb 2017
People are very keen to tell you who you are.
You are kind, caring, charming.
You are a superb athlete.
You are a wonderful student.
A compassionate son, who never once raised his voice.
A loyal friend, who never once ditched me for Dan Wallis-Evans.
You are eleven.
You are spotless.
You, though, are one of those people who is happy to stand up and say "No, that is not who I am. This is who I am."

You are kind, caring, charming.
You are a superb athlete.
You are a procrastinating student.
A compassionate son, who stayed on my bedroom floor for three weeks over the course of three months because of falling outs.
A loyal friend, even if you ditched me for Dan Wallis-Evans.
You are eleven.
You will always be eleven.
Your existence isn't proving people wrong, anymore.
Natasha Feb 2017
I liked my eyes when you looked into them;
I thought they were lifeless - You thought that they were an ocean.
I liked my legs when you ran your hands up them;
I thought they served a purpose - You thought that they belonged to a dancer.
I liked my name when you called it,
My hands when you played with them,
My hair when you sank your hands into it.

But I only liked me -
all of me -
when you left.
Natasha Feb 2017
You say that you'll only hurt me -
You've got your hands on my waist and your lips on my neck and I know that you'll take some other girl home. So kiss me in the courtyard, give me all of your white-lies and we'll play with fire.
I say that I'm going to leave -
I say it to your face and we know that it's a half-truth. I wake up in your shirt and find you asleep next to me. We never used to do this; we were young and innocent. Life got under our skin and we let the devil in. We dance around each other, and we've got steady hands and drunk eyes.
You tell me that she's the one for you-
You say you love her but I know that you're going to leave her. I mark a date on a calendar, you break up three days earlier.
You say that I'm not looking at the big picture -
I'm walking through a gallery with your hand on my back and I've not seen the paintings but I'm staring at the art. You kiss me by the Degas, hand ******* my shoulder - You tell me that you need me and you know you'll see me later.
I guess we're searching for something that we can't see. We're scrabble in the dark, call each other's name. I guess we only love each other when we're playing foolish games. I guess we only love each other when we're half asleep. I guess we only love each other when there's a timer running and talk is cheap.
You say that you'll only hurt me -
So kiss me in the courtyard, give me all of your white-lies, and let's play with fire.
Natasha Apr 2016
People talk about us in hushed tones,
They watch us in the same way
That you watch a car crash.
And they whisper about us,
In the same way that you are taught not
to speak ill of the dead.

People talk about us,
In memoriam,
In peace,
In pieces.

People talk about us,
As if all we did was break,
As if we were just two people who shattered,
As if we were something unbearably tragic,
And there weren’t enough splinters of us,
To make mosaic hearts out of.

But all I remember,
Are cracks around your eyes.
You laughed so hard that,
It left geoglyphs in the soft expanse of your skin.

And I loved you,
I loved your Nazca laughter lines.
I remember fearlessly,
Furiously,
Loving you.

People talk about us,
As if all we did was break.
But everything that has broken,
Was once gorgeously whole.

We broke many times.
But we loved so many more.
Natasha Apr 2016
You were looking at me funny.
Not in the "I haven't seen you in three years, let me take you in," way.
You looked quizzical, puzzled.
You told me that there was something different about me.

I stood a little taller,
I tossed my hair back.
My juniors have mimicked the move so many times that they've got it down.
It's just that it's always getting  in my eyes,
And I want to be able to see the world.

You told me that there was something different about me,
And I wondered what you saw.
I wondered what my tell was.
I'm self-centred.
Most humans are, 90% of us.
Most of my thoughts are about me.
But in that moment, I wanted to see through your eyes.
Natasha Mar 2016
There is no good time to fall in love.

There is no opportune moment for your heart to suddenly take notice of the world around you, and turn to hummingbird wings and breathless laughter. There is no good time for your world to suddenly start revolving in time with somebody else.

And when you fell in love with me, it was possibly the worst of times.

I was made of cracked edges, of cracked lips, of cracked glass. When you touched me, you came away with papercuts and red ribbons for your efforts.

When you fell in love with me, you tasted like springtime when we kissed. I wanted to love you back, believe me. But you can’t force a heart to wake up. It is not a gun to be pointed and fired. I wanted so badly to fall in love with you.

When you touched me, you handled hard bones and fine china. When I touched you, I felt soft flesh, tough muscle, hot veins. I felt a human. You felt an almost-person.

When you fell in love with me, I held out my arms, but could only reach so wide.
I’m sorry, I wanted to say. *This is all I am, right now.

— The End —