you loved me
as much as
i love you.
why can’t we be equals?
i find it funny how people can
act tough and like shit doesn’t faze them.
i like that we can all lie to ourselves,
to a point where we can believe it.
today a friend of mine
had a friend hang herself.
and i didn’t know what to say,
other than, it’s gonna be alright
and she’s in a better place,
and that nothing can hurt her now.
i don’t know who it was that died today
but to see that pain seeping out of my friends
was so unbelievably unbearable,
and i think i am the only one crying..
all of these people are so strong
with their supporting friends
and will to carry on in her memory.
im so goddamn weak in comparison..
it’s sick on my part, to twist
the tragic end of a youth like this.
but i think i can kinda understand now,
why you don’t like being around me.
no matter the situation
i never know what to say
and end up wordlessly crying in bed.
so rest in peace to the deceased.
at least one of us gets to sleep tonight.
diagonal black lines mark off the squares on my calender,
ticking off the days of december.
i always knew the winter will be cold,
but i didn’t prepare for this weather,
nor did i think the people would be so bitter.
it has become romanticized,
the winter has, i mean.
a time to cuddle up and sip warm drinks,
whilst ‘hark! the herald angels sing!’
i’m not trying to be cynical and hate the holidays,
cause i like them just the same,
this goddamn cold has bruised my flesh
with the tell-tell signs of frost bite,
frozen are my toes and fingers,
each joint of mine wound tightly.
i wish i could say that i love winter
and the joy it’s supposed to bring
but i abhor this frigid cold
that’s made it’s home in me.
i know somewhere they said
to forgive and forget,
that to move past it makes you strong
and a better person.
so am i going to get worse?
if i burn these memories to my skin
letting them fester on the flesh
rotting my heart and mind
from the inside, out?
am i a terrible person
for refusing to let bygones be bygones?
is it so damn terrible
to want to latch myself to a past
that keeps chains on my limbs
and phalanges around my throat?
the stench of decayed matter
permeates in the december air
invading my nostrils,
and i can’t help but get off
to all this inflicted pain.
last night i dreamt of you
and our bodies intertwined
soft moans echoing
is the hollowness of our hearts.
i dreamt of your hand
blazing trails down my abdomen
before you scorched the spot between my thighs
setting every fiber in my body on fire
with just the tips of your fingers.
you brought me closer and closer
im embarrassed to admit that
when i woke,
i had to change my underwear.
i want to take a moment to apologize
for everything i have done wrong
for every error
i want you to know
i would do better if i could.
i wish you would forgive me,
and that i could forgive myself
but dreaming of the impossible is futile.
so all i can do is say
i am so fucking sorry
and hope you can understand
how sincere i am
when i say that.
'my leg hurts.'
how many times today have i uttered that phrase?
i stopped counting after five
and i’m glad that only one person asked me
'why does your leg hurt?'
they didn’t really care, so i didn’t answer
murmuring some shitty excuse.
last night i got so worked up, bawling,
that i vomited all over myself.
honestly, i can’t tell you what caused the puking though.
the booze? those pills?
i don’t even know what i ingested.
overwhelmed with the realization
of how isolated i have become,
how alone i really am..
i let it slip.
just press the cold to the flesh,
for old time’s sake
a pair of parallel lines
searing on the inner thigh
bringing back a single clarity
and a simple thought
i need to fill this hole
i need to forget.
i need to forget.
i need to forget.
Hey, I think maybe you’re sleeping,
If you are, I hope you are dreaming well.
I will never say it out loud
But I really hope you dream of me.
I hope your mind in plagued
With thoughts of me
Day in and day out.
That even the simplest conversation
Gets you frustrated that you aren’t with me.
I hope you look at your hand and think
How nice it’d be to have mine right there.
That you look at couples around town or on campus and cringe
But secretly you yearn to be affectionate in public like that.
I keep writing this out as if it really matters,
I am grossed out with myself for thinking this way.
And terribly disheartened that you may not even think of me,
When I can never get you off my mind.
i think the weather gets to me.
when it rains,
the sound of thunder echos
through the catacombs of my mind
reverberating until every last loose leaf memory is shaken
and fallen from its hiding place.
from there it then loops itself on repeat
over and over and over.
the images of a past with you;
the smiles, the laughs, the kisses,
the fights, the yelling, the tears,
and the almost, but not quite, sex.
each faded image resurfaces
sharpening and growing in resolution,
burning high definition screen shots of life
into my corneas.
these memories of past times
circulating like daily newspapers
unwarranted and almost unwanted.
i think i really hate the rain.