6.22.18

Remembering who I am is a hot-cheeked, sinking feeling.

Pins and needles, butterflies in the ventricles.

Blood flow returning to areas that had lost feeling,

that had been presumed dead.

 

Have you ever been thirsty and drank much water so fast that your stomach hurt?

Things that you need are not always comfortable.

Sometimes things that you need happen all at once.

 

Sometimes they do not feel like giddiness,

but like the dizzying disorientation of being up too high on a tall building.

I am crashing back to reality.

You revel in my fall.

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6.8.18

The rings feel so hollow

Just like forever seems hollow

As if the cost of my inner thighs is beer

And mixed drinks after, to make the night go wrong

I do not feel traces of him on my body

Seedlings in the spring air cling to me more then he ever will

And you are my whole self

You are embedded in every follicle

You are the precipitate of heart beat

I feel you in my breath

You are my forever

The forever that I pray outweighs my tomorrow

I will keep waiting for you

At the back door

At the front door

At the landing of the stairs

6.7.18 pt. 2

Are you enamored by the way light refracts off the surface of my skin

Is that distracting to you

 

You are preoccupied by the contents of your own imagination

There is no reality in us

And I wish there were less

 

I think if I were further from you, the words would come to me

I would write our friendship like a eulogy

 

If I get a dick pic I’m leaving the state

4.12.18

If you take in a full enough mouth of smoke, you may convince yourself it’s something worth swallowing.

That singed tongue and throat are life-sustaining.

 

Is that not what he told you?

When he blew it into your mouth?

 

You said you weren’t hungry anymore.

You said you were content to die wearing only his perceptions of you, fitted to your cold body like a corset.

(Cinched & pulled)

You said of all of the ways to commit suicide, this was by far the prettiest.

11.27.17

I remember telling him

I remember saying

 

I told him I was dying

And I put it in pounds

And he told me he was almost impressed

And then we laughed and smoked a bowl and he took off my clothes and I forgot that I was deteriorating because he always had this way of making my nothing feel like too much

 

He turned a blind eye, everything my thighs were saying didn’t matter

My wrists were not loud enough for him

So I painted myself indifferent, if indifferent is the color of hospital walls

 

He called me a few times

So he could ask me about my body

My hipbone rib cage spine and no ass to speak of

My no tits to speak of

 

Even when I left him, he didn’t leave

He was already moved into my body and mind, key twisting into my sternum like I open only for him, I open only for people like him

That my definition is the one that he wrote

The one that he carved into his own leg

 

I told him it was over and it didn’t graze his ear

I told him that we were stuck, and he cried until I was weak enough to kiss away his tears

I told him it was killing me and he said he was almost impressed

8.6.17 (losing it)

Carrying hope for better days, like flickering flame

White wax on cold fingertips

 

Blisters from grip, slipping

Jump start like now and not later

Favor the moment when the moment’s

Flavor is sweet and the sweetness

Is not lost on burnt tongue and

Burnt jacket

 

Horticulture escape into green meaninglessness

The feebleness of communication

Crossed lines that shake like tightrope

Slope is only downhill