Thoughts

OH MY GOD IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED HOLY

boots // rudyard kipling

here and now

Here and now I stand still.

Wind bends around my cheeks.

The earth is still yet somehow I move at a million miles an hour.

(yet my feet never leave the place they are rooted )

Life is frozen in time, yet everyone I know is fifteen years into the future.

My life is groundhog’s day, except that i can't get out. 

Trust me, I've tried.

Air doesn't fill my lungs the same way anymore.

Have I overstayed my welcome?

Where do I belong?

Who do I have?

I have nobody.

I trust nobody, yet I love so many.

I think that there are people who say they love me out of pity.

I miss having someone I could call and spill my tainted blood to.

All the lies I've told.

All of the thoughts that have fought their way from the pits of my stomach to my lips.

Poisoned by my own voice

Betrayed by my own truth.

A cycle of apology and transgression.

Here and now, I come to a close.

I feel like a whore. 

Used and disgusting. 

Why did I say yes?

I thought it would make me feel better about myself. 

It didn’t.

Why didn’t it?

Why?

I've betrayed God.

And for what?

Some girl I barely know?

(I've known her my whole life.)

She doesn't love me.

I don’t love myself.

pretty

What do I have to do?

Paper thin and delicate

(So far from me)

Thin little lines, not the ugly kind

Bones of glass

Skin like water

Hands that fit into another hand properly

Canyon gap between legs

Face soft and structured

(not me)

Starve? 

Pray?

Old friend

I am so glad you are back

That you weren't gone for too long. 

But I know it hurts.

The decision you made was hard, and I feel as though I don’t deserve it. 

I don’t deserve to be the reason you chose to be happy. 

The reason you chose to leave her. 

It feels nice, I suppose. 

Like coming home. 

Like wrapping myself in an old quilt.

But it also feels like exactly what it is. 

Coming back to an old friend.  

“stop traumadumping to your friends tell this to your therapist” my god they paywalled human connection

first base is putting your cigarettes out on each other second base is psychosexual obsession third base is murder-suicide

Haiku #1

Your hand is in mine  My heart beating close to yours  You, who made me love