i think a lot
about the me before this all

i think a lot
about the rocky start
about the headstart the Universe gave
about the time i ghosted for 6 months straight
about how i ended up back in square one
about the space you occupied in my mind
about how you evaded my senses
about a chinese-esque boy

i think a lot about the Universe
about premonitions and gut feelings
about beliefs and signs
about how maybe we were supposed to be
about how we finally we became one
about how it seems that you were a gift a day before my birthday

i think a lot about Us
about how it was fleeting and fun
about how it all felt brand-new
about how it was to be in love
about how emotional i got
about how tumultuous it got
about how rocky it became

i think a lot about Abuse
about how it traumatizes you
about how it ingrains into your survival tactics
about how it invades you as a whole
about how it takes a dove and crush its feathers into limestone
about how i will corrode through and through people's soul
about how i got an epiphany
about how i shouldn't be emotionally abusing you
about how i want to become a better person
about how that even though i'm better now
you have been significantly affected by that abuse

i think a lot about the Me all before
about how a silent storm i was
about how guarded and angry i was
about how unpure and unwholesome
about how malevolent and whipped my mean streak
about how independant and unemotional
about how numb i was

i think a lot about the Me now
about how silent after the storm i am
about how guarded yet softened by your touch
about how i'm semi-pure and wholesome to you
about how i sheath out my mean streak when hurt
about how dependent and emotional
about how i feel all at once

i think a lot about the in-betweens
about our 4th to 6th months
about how we were happy content
about how we still bickered and slept it  out
about how good it was
about how much of a happy spot our relationship was
about our development together
about how maybe we were destined to be even more better in the future

i think a lot about Now
about how it feels like a void
about how there's a force so strong
about how it's separating us
about how we keep hurting each other
about how we keep stressing out
about how we keep breaking down
about how it doesn't feel like we're happy here
about how i wake up crying and still fall asleep at night crying
about how our differences keep pushing us apart
about how much i disregard your frequent drinking
about how you go to drink because your relationship has gone to ****
about how our-used-to-be-happy place is causing us so much pain
about how it doesn't feel the same anymore

i think a lot about the Future
about what we're supposed to do now
about how lost we both are
about how i need to find myself again
about how i need to rebuild myself
about how we both new a clean slate
about how we need each other so much more than before

i think a lot about You
about a Chinese boy
about a friendly, sweet and caring boy
about how reliable he is at work
about how witty and smart he can get
about how mentally stimulating he is
about how plain and dull he can be
about how unemotional he is
about how he is a man of few words
about how he shows his love
about how lousy of a texter he is
about how sweet he is
about how mad he can get when provoked
about how i always forget that he cares even though he doesn't show it
about how he always seems so wild and energetic when he drinks
about how he feels a buzz in alcohol that is pretty unhealthy in the long run
about how much potential he has in his art
about how he can scale higher feats
about how i want to watch him grow
about how much of a workaholic he is
about how distant he gets when he's working
about how sometimes i need you during your busy periods
about how much he loves dogs
about how much i'm not really an animal person
about how much he loves kids
about how much he wants to be a dad
about how much i hate kids
about how homophobic he gets
about how he understands me
about how he can read into my soul but doesn't do it often
about how sometimes it feels like he isn't putting effort because he's busy
about how sometimes i want to be validated and showered opnely and be treated like a Goddess
about how i know he wants me to smile more
about how i know sometimes he can't understand my depression but still puts in effort to calm me down
about how for the past 8 months i know every single inch of him
about how for the past 8 months he knows every single inch of me

i think a lot about Love
about how much i love you
about how my love for you can start up it's own universe
about how love is what keeping me with you
about how we both have our needs and wants in a relationship
about how we should be compromising with our differences
about how we should listen and respect each other
about how we should be kind and giving and freeing
about how we should always try and try and put in effort
about how we should always be there for each other
about how we should always support each other unless it raises concerns
about how we should always understand and put ourselves in each other's shoes
about how we should think before we speak
about how we knows each others flaws and cope with it
about how we will be better as a couple in the near future.

i just think a lot

I have worn the same clothes three days in a row
the same filth
that ingrains onto my skin
and scratches at my heart
slices through everything

It is big enough to cover the ugly mess that is my body
And my arms encase my chest
when I'm not wearing it
Although I know everyone notices
It's not that I can't afford clothes
Its that my mind can't accept them

I have one shirt
It covers my scars
It covers my chest
the one I want to cut off
just to feel like me
it covers my stomach
the one that aches from being empty sometimes
then hurts from being stuffed full

I want to wear different clothes
I don't want to be looked at the way I am
but in the end
This sweatshirt can feel like my only friend

Yes, it is crusted over with blood
on the inside of the left sleeve
but only because
it is making sure I don't bleed out

Yes, maybe it makes me look bigger than I am
but then after a binge
nobody notices the bloating
because the sweatshirt can hide anything

I don't know
where the metaphor ends
and reality begins anymore

Infect your mind with inspected signs that discontinue what you were born with, forlorn this meme, obscene yet lacking in the tracking mechanisms displaced to outer space, there it is, gee ****, what'd I do now, have a cow, scientific inquiry as to *** was jfk, the cia? Information overload, a payload exploding in the brain leaves a stain that ingrains its image in your cortext (sic) contextual images supplied by visionary sources, get off your horses and dance in a trance can't stand ya burn forgotten ways of text on wood pulp gulped in by a mind left behind and signed for, designed for psychiatric cages as it rages for pages on the inequity of it all, fall, fall, morning star shines bright but it's all right, ignore that ****** and go straight for the sun, you're done, almost there, take care, truth or dare, can it be? See, and open your Mine(d) find it within outside the walls that define

Showering undoubtful love.
With eyes filled of pride.
He voices admiration about us,
He embeds ambition within us.

Strong willed.
The epitome of a hard worker.
He constantly picks himself to give to us,
He wages war to support us.

The key to the past,
Reciting history about family.
He shows the importance of kinship to us,
He ingrains the significance of affinity within us.

A shoulder.
A hand.
He is a monument to stabilize us,
He is a beacon to show the way for us.

Full of laughter.
Patron of jokes.
He lights up the room for us,
He roots humor within us

A storyteller.
A dreamer.
He installs creativity within us,
He exemplifies wonder for us.

i think there's a peculiar beauty in sadness
not the frowning, shallow, petty sadness
i mean the heavy, consuming, profound sadness
the type of sadness that ingrains itself in every aspect of life
devouring all light and pureness with dark veins of pulsing grief
but,
there is a beauty in that.
there is a special beauty in heartbreak, abandonment, grief
because you cared
a lot
and enough
for it to hurt you stab you destroy you
when that love was gone
there is a strange beauty in the way your eyes leak
for whispers of the past, an escape from the present, for salvation from the future
you can plead you can beg you can get down on your knees and sob, but,
there is a beauty in you that will never cease

I really do hurt myself

nights were long sighs and lonely dreams
sleeping while your shirts on my pillow
and my pillow is in my arms
now its in a cardboard box
detox

now my nights are a real person
and sweat ingrains the sheets
I can feel warmth up against me
I feel her breath
a heartbeat

but I can still feel a pull from a pixelated vision
I dont have to type a word
Just the first letter and I know I'm closer
I get my life back, I feel in control
Gasping at wisps, so plainly absurd

Its gone. I'm not with whom you're really meant to be
Its gone. It's 5 months in a week
Its gone. Whats yours for me that's really left to see?
Its gone. But its really just beginning, so to speak.

I just want to know, I just want to know

So seductive; offering guarantees of hope and happiness yet allows you to get lost. Funny right? She says to shut your eyes, gently. Surely it's not your moment right? Surely you will wake up in the arms of the sun; to the songs of the birds you're unsure whether or not you want to understand.

So you close your eyes.

She sneaks up on you and whispers stories into your ears, insinuating visions you can only dream of. A storyteller. She holds your head in the warmth of her promises and the cradle of her lies, weaving stories in the ditch with all the overturned cars on the side of the road. Are they really lies?

And you wake up.

She is something far more different than you could have imagined. She is so far gone; no way to turn back. Wishing the mirror on the wall showed an upside down image so you wouldn't have to relive the torture of seeing yourself. It's astounding really. The wrinkles.

When did they get there?

When did I get here?

The days tie themselves together and throw each other off a cliff. A routine ingrains itself into the corner of your brain that gnaws at every muscle fiber when you miss your favorite TV show; that whispers to you at night and shows you blood stained walls. As over dramatic as it sounds you know what I mean. There's no more. Really. There isn't.

She wakes you up before she takes you. You see her dashing red face looking cold into your eyes, and you wish for more.

But she can't give you any.

Time can only tell.

Me increasing my life insurance is acceptance of focusing on only what I can control.

I prepared for life as hard as possible by pouring a max of three scoops of cereal in my bowl.

The repetition ingrains into the brain, a captain expects the crunch.

Thus I feel superior, those stressing and ranting about random waves under the boat are an exhausting bunch.

They are the majority so this is just my opinion, it’s not a fact, it’s just a hunch.

One shouldn’t find where to fit in, sit down and see who end ups coming along with the lunch.

Don’t give me theories and instructions, give me randomness and luck.

The ability to imagine his environment is the only difference between the man and the duck.

Upholding themselves they shine each night
The internal attraction of every child
Draw the five points on our soft small palms
Pride it ingrains into the small soul
The child narrates his pride to everyone, curves his lips, smoothly reveals his palm with a star on it.