desire vs. decision

i cannot promise we will not falter in our destruction of one another. this is the inevitable collapse of a princess of power, taken to her knees by what she let herself crash so hard into. like falling sky, i will come down on you and cover you wholly. so, the 10 million dollar question: canonization or bane? my skin cringes at the thought of giving in. it doesn't quite matter if you can prevent a relapse. i fell so deep into your uncharted waters, and i'm not quite ready to swim or float; like i sank before, i'll sink again. i don't think i'm holding on quite hard enough to break the binds you've tied to her in your sleepy sadness. and if i find that walking home is walking to you, i'll be more afraid than if i was to cut myself down and bury myself six feet to the neck. all your pretty mispelled words make no difference if i'm just trying to save myself from ruin. "we fit." isn't that the same as "we fall?"

i am drunk/journal number i donno

you're here, and you missed me, that's what you told me last night. all morning you were there making noises and i could barely get to sleep but you made insomnia worth while, for a little while. now we're drunk, at least, i'm very drunk. the act we play in front of everyone else fools me sometimes 'cause i think how real it could be, but i guess i know that if you could choose you'd choose me. at least, that's what you tell me, so that's what i think. i'm just a foolish drunk girl, who let's you sleep in her bed and who counts her blessings every day that she hasn't fallen off the deep end quite yet

grind the beat

the things you could do to me scare me more than what i am capable of doing to myself. i am a nymph, you are a bumble bee. i dance, you float, and we always seem to fall back into each other, that lazy slumber we adore so much. intertwined, far away, and far apart. closer on couches, closer on pink. our scene, we debut: smoking in bed, and here i am, reading you passages to sing you to sleep. "read me that story one more time, the one where he jumps out of the window and breaks his feet." my cryptic words mean nothing to you, do you understand what i'm saying? "THERE'S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM." we must face what we refuse to hear. "god, how i wish i had gotten to you sooner," i hear you croon behind me. well, i don't pity us. i wonder what wer'e doing here, most days.

lilac beds

i am not what you promised i would be. i am higher and lower and farther away. kiss me and tell me how tall i will grow with you. make a promise: believe or understand. do not hate me for what i cannot do/love me for what i can: i am waiting. how icy will your lips be tomorrow, unwilling to keep or grab what is deserved. reach out!; refer to me as "she," "her," "mine." snow means we stay indoors. sun means we shall greet the day with halos and coffee. how many pairs of feet does it take from your door to mine? am i too late?

drugs

blood like water
never lets
the things you owe
slip through.
it remembers,
like i remember.
like the great plains stretch across an industry, like eyes blink backwards. if you listen close enough you'll hear so little! my dad says i miss the forest for the trees/i say i miss myself more than i ever have. a muted shine is not the same as the destruction of tarnish. keep clinging, cause some things aren't meant to touch the ground.
if condominiums take over all your grey matter, what do you become? things like that are lost so easily, so don't sell it or wish it away. a lot of pretty pictures become a little uglier with time, like hands or crows. or pink pills or love letters. change will take over.
like i took over you:
your bed/your head/your heart.
mine! possessions i own, but blood like water will bring it back to you.

on the other side

i am an inadequate mess. look at me now: different than what i used to be. how wonderful it sounds, but shifting your shape is unsettling. you were happier then than you are now, all changed and clear. but in my new shoes and my new clothes i feel colorless, like a baby bleached or a horse skinned. although i try, i remember less of who i used to be. had my skin always felt this way? my face? my hands so rough with memory? this mass, has it ever been new? questions i am barely able to answer. maybe forgetfulness isn't such a gift after all. but if i could remember would i be able to turn around? no, i'm sure not. i'm sure i'd be stuck knowing what i lost or gained, a fact that would hold me up and prod at my naked feet until i cried for forgiveness. is gaining more always better? does that mean you're ahead? perhaps it means you've actually fallen behind. all the games i still play, it seems that's the only steady calm in this human thunderstorm i've created. crafted and carved to my new requirements, but the same trickery as it's always been. pretty love songs don't put me to sleep anymore, but neither does anger or repent. and tommorrow and for the rest of my life i'll never wake up to walk those old halls, i'll wake up to walk a new one. whether it is one towards you, or to a bedroom, a home, an office, a ward, or a family, it will never be the same as it once was. my acceptance does not equal my tolerance. the same demand will take over soon, the same demand that creeps up my spine and into all my nerves; it yells across my back: "wait."

you gotta stop sneaking up on me

as a force of nature, you are more desirable in theory. i wanted and waited, all that time was i being honest? probably. but tonight, today, this morning, i would be faker than a wax form of myself if i asked you to love me. tonight, today, this morning, i am ready to embark on loving someone other than what you and your mistakes sum up to become, in the grand scheme of things. because i want you but i don't deserve you. that is my decision, i have made it. how happy are you? don't fall back to sleep before i leave you. maybe if you're there when i am i'll miss you again, but tonight, today, this morning, i'm happy better off. i am not angry. i do not need to destroy me or take someone's innocence as my trophy, because you have not hurt me tonight. when i'm lugging boxes and boxes and boxes, climbing steps to get away, i hope you see me and realize i am a phoenix, wings spread too wide to ever fit back in that twin bed.

we said our goodbye's the night before

in some drunken slander, i see we have found common ground. accepting the pins and needles in my pride when we admitted, but now you know, i'm gone. i'm sorry, but i don't wish i was staying. i'm sorry, but i'm glad my parents are leaving too. i'm sorry, but i'm glad you didn't leave me with this decision to make. i'm sorry, but i'm glad it's been made for me. i'm sorry, but i'm glad i have the strength to overcome and take control of my life. i'm not sorry that i am stronger than you. i'm not sorry that i have a stronger drive. i'm not sorry that i am here to live. i'm not sorry that I AM HERE TO LOVE. I AM HERE TO CHANGE. I AM HERE TO BEGIN. I AM HERE TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. I AM HERE TO LEARN.

when we made love, you used to cry.

journal #14

my friends say make you follow, they say "if he doesn't follow you he doesn't love you." my brother says "are you sure you want this?" my mother says "it's your life." my head says "MAKE A FUCKING DECISION." i am in no mental state to make a decision, because he is the only person that i cannot crack open and understand. i guess it's up to me to ask all the questions, up to me to create the strategies and make the moves. i don't want to, but if i don't, i will never see you again and i will be forced to wonder why, and what, and who, and where. and that is not a fate i am willing to possess. however, if i push myself further and further into this, like i want so badly, i must face consequence. think of all the things i could destroy! there is a possibility that i may indeed lose everything, but isn't that all the more reason to leave? but what if i get it all back in some sad twist of fate? then where do i go? i can't stay, but i can't leave.


maybe it's just time to grow up.

journal #13/one chance

it seems unclean to look at you so closely, today. the strict contours of your face, those which are no longer mine. they belong now only to your own skin. mine has detached from yours, in the physical sense, the sense that has brought down so many men to their knees. in the sense that i still have a home inside of you, we remain bound. my biggest regret is that we no longer have what we promised we'd keep forever, because i pushed you further out of me than your anchor inside my gut was willing to budge. and as you secretly have suggested, it is my fault. the mistakes i have made are mine alone.
at my feet, you were weak, yet i persisted in the false sense of power i held over you. this is the moment i bring myself back to every night; this vision of you, your anger so strong, pouring out of you and all over me.
i recall looking into you then, seeing what my own mouth had created, and through my soothing coos, i knew i would once more create this scene. your spine, cracked in two: I'M SO SORRY. do you trust me today?
i have been waiting for you, and here you finally are, too late. too late for me to unpack all of my baggage and move it back into you. can i decide on my own what to do? i cannot. the time i have spent waiting for you to come home has long passed, and i have changed myself to fit into what i wanted to become. how i wish you had been on time to stop me.
am i the only one who lied? do not forget what you chose over me, what, in one fit of rage, you chose because of me. in that statement, i saw what you were: me. in all of that white glory, buried to your throat, was it worth it? if you could do it one more time, would you rip out the stake that you drove between us? perhaps not. in the end, i am afraid of you.

childhood

"Cause I don’t want you to know where I am, cause then you’ll see my heart in the saddest state it’s ever been, and this is no place to try to live my life. I’m sorry for the person I became, I’m sorry that it took so long for me to change, I’m ready to be sure I never become that way again, cause who I am hates who I’ve been."

journal #12

you think i wouldn't notice? you make it for me and you think i won't dissect it? no. you know i will. YOU KNOW ME. you know every part of me. you know how fast my heart beats when i drive to you, you know how fast i will run from you. you know the speed of my hands when i run them through my hair. you know. you know. orchards and lingering, it's all some sort of fucking insult. i try so hard, i try so hard and after all of this, after all of my waiting, i receive solace and i am granted a train ticket back to who we were and what we found inside of each other those years ago and now i don't want to leave. what do i do? i have to leave you because YOU WON'T LET ME HAVE YOU.

the anatomy of a match

i feel you in my bones, and this is something i will never be able to rinse out. you are a stain on my marrow, a scar on my tissue. i do not resent these marks on my character, i find pride in our ability to overlook how far we have crawled into each other, acknowledge it, and move on to becoming what we used to be, sans complication. i am leaving, and i'll love you, but i am leaving, and i am ready.

i would strike the match, but it is soaking wet, i am soaking wet.