The first one this week is named Carlos,
he's tall and handsome and twice my age
He's got tan skin with all the hair burned off
his arms from sunlight sand and surf
He likes to call me "*******"

The second one this week is named Charlie,
he's married and chubby and masochistic
He's got a sunglass tan and three different cars
He likes to call me "baby"

The third one this week is named Ryan,
I think
He's tall I'm tall we were in his car our heads bumped
several times
He video taped the entire thing from three different angles
He likes to call me "***** *****"

I've gotten into the habit
of sleeping with friends

I'm not guilty of ****,
don't get me wrong

But I do have issues
ask anyone

And honestly
I'm not sure where
or how I get off

There's something about
knowing someone forever

and then knowing them
completely differently
the next day over

I thought maybe
this could be my chance
to get what I've always wanted

though it was probably a mistake
to think he wanted me like this

probably a mistake
to think he wanted me at all

I hadn't spoken to her in two years
I don't think she remembered my name.

I still had her phone number,
though I hadn't ever called

She broke me when she left
Or when I left her

The months went on and turned to years
I still hadn't healed

I was so, so angry
So I looked up her number

Opened up a text

And on August 21st, 2014
I sent:

"Happy birthday,
Selfish *****."

I could tell you how I am
or I could show you

but I can't.

Show you, I mean

My pain is more than skin-deep
I carry around emotional baggage
just under my eyes
and drag it with me,
suitcases full of decaying memories

If you choose not to consider me as part of your life
and leave my memory to rot and linger for months
then ******* for trying to push back into my head
and pretend you care

If you think I'm about to let you into my life
when you haven't so much as asked me
if I even want you there
then ******* for trying to push back into my head
and pretend that you care

I'm just fine, thanks.
I'm great, actually.
Life goes on with or without you.

It's not that I hate you
or want you to leave me alone,
no,
it's so much more than that

I need you by my side
I need you to check up on me
I need you to show me that you care

and as soon as you do that,
I'll spit right in your face
Cut you down to size so you
never make the mistake of trusting me again

When you're gone,
I'm so alone

So I sit alone in my room at night,
watch lightning tear apart the sky
and I take paper cutters
and razor blades
to the tips of my fingers
so all my scars
all my pain
and all of me
remains invisible

You, I love

Not "I love you"
me first, I this
me that
me before you

You, I love

Your smile, I love
Your mind, I love

Your kindness, I love
Your wrath, I love

Your imagination, I love
Your creativity, I love

Your confusion, I love
Your curiosity, I love

Your voice, I love
Your laugh, I love

You, I love

You before me,
no matter what *we do.
Because it is you whom I love.

Ridge
(as in steep precarious drops into nothingness)

I'm surrounded by "almost"s and idk what to do with it. You know, like a marionette doll.

I'm entirely dead, but when something needs to be done- someone can just tug the strings and I'll limp off in the general direction regardless of whether I want to or not.

Nouns with no verbs,
adjectives with no subject.

I didn't sleep that night, I was up all night questioning my existence.
Literally questioning my existence. It was intense. Just heard my mom's voice on a loop
"It's not real"
"Yes, I believe you might be experiencing uncertainty about your identity but personality disorders aren't real"
"They're not real"
"That's not the kind of thing you just bring up in conversation, it's not just an everyday topic"
"stop pretending to be them"
"it's not real"
"not real"
"not real"

I slept very little

I just
kinda feel like a lab animal on a surgery table. Can't do anything to help myself, just hope that the end is quick whatever it may be.

Is this the ridge?

No, I wasn't drinking
Yes, I was dressed "provocatively"

No, I didn't come on to him
I didn't say he could touch me
No, I wasn't giving him "bedroom eyes"
No, I didn't lead him on

Yes, I shared a cab with him
No, I didn't say he could put his hands on me
Yes, I was naive
No, I didn't say I wanted to put my hand or my head in his lap
No, I didn't ask the taxi driver to help me
No, I didn't refuse to let him put his fingers in me

No, I didn't tell him I wanted to go home then
Yes, I let him take me to his apartment
Yes, I let him take my clothes off
Yes, I let him inside me
No, he didn't use a ******
Yes, I took a morning after pill

Yes, I regret it

But he didn't ask,
so I didn't say no