you liked me because i was soft on you, i wonder how you’ll feel now that i’ve lost all sense of loyalty to & for you. you’ll wish i was when i’m done with you though, you arrogant fuck.
and left minutes later. i should’ve called you out right then, you know it and i know it, because now you can skirt around the truth like it does not exist. that is unfair, this whole thing is unfair. i should be in your arms as we speak.
i fear i understand now, to some degree, what this has been for you; a fetishization of something that, someone that, whether you understand it within yourself or not, feels exotic. i’m not from another culture, but, we grew up living two completely different lives, and although you’ve seen a part of this world, what you’ve seen and what i present are two very different things as well. to someone like you on the outside, i am no one important and no one worth stepping away from your life for, but so quickly did that change because, and i am very confident on this, you saw someone worth loving; someone worth setting the mask aside for, removing the armor for, being open for; it scares you, does it not? that so quickly did no one, become someone, to you of all people. you’ve loved before, i do not believe i am the only one by far, and you’ve felt those strange connections that make little sense in the moment, yet those choices were still safe for you; women your parents would smile at, without faltering, because thinking twice to like them was simple. there’s some proof, somewhere in existence, on paper, that they come from something magnificent, whereas i… i have the names in my pedigree, actually many names that might make me easy to swallow for people like you; they’re names i barely know, and therein is an ancestral sin; i am not the last or only estranged soul in my line, and likely won’t be the last.
i’m not like that, and you know it. i don’t make sense to people like you for it, either; there’s a certain privilege that comes from safety, not that your life has always been perfect, but in more ways than one, you existed in a world of love, genuine love, and comfort. for me there was love, and then there was so much pain that, unfortunately, the little girl in me succumbed to many a time throughout my life; who i am, and who i could have, should have, would have been are twisted sisters. my armor isn’t removable anymore, it’s actually taken enough heat that it is melted into my skin, a formidable defense against those that want to get too close. it’s still warm to the touch, too, and you noticed. i’d say that’s why things changed that day, in the small ways, the ways of the invisible barrier that separated two bodies that were close enough to touch, that wanted to touch. you’ve been different for me too, though you may think this an entirely calculated thing, which i am sorry for if you do. i don’t know why my heart has screamed out for yours as strongly as it does, or why i continue to allow myself to be so viciously disrespected by a man whose never said a word about it. people look unto me as though i am the crazy one, but shall we break down the last two months, and list all the things you’ve said versus what you did, and how you showed up for me?
there’s plenty of people important to you in your life whom deserve the softest of sentiments you hold, and yet, somehow, and for some reason, there you are hiding yourself away during quiet moments to share them, with me. i can feel how impacted you are by what is shared in words between us. your emotions are strong, stronger than most. usually i’m afforded time to process intensity from someone, but you? oh, darling man, no, i was not at all. you were what a hurricane is to the small folk and i, an unsuspecting fawn left alone for the first day in their life, forced to weather it on my own. this loss hit, and the second i was finished feeling for myself, wouldn’t you know it, it was your face imprinted behind my eyelids. i wanted to know how you were, if you needed something, if you needed me. when i had originally reached out, i hadn’t paid any attention, and as i realized my mistake you had answered, and suddenly things made a whole lot more sense. those first conversations i hold very dear to me, because i feel you were giving me a side of yourself you weren’t expecting to, and sharing an intimacy that shook you to your core almost as awfully as mine did. the day you hovered me was the one day you allowed the strings of fate to beckon you from all that you know for something you don’t, and truly, what an honor it was to be the person for that. what a fucking honor it was to be the one you wanted to reach for in a room filled with love for you, and yours.
still… i did not intend to disrupt your life in this way. it is not something i am proud of, nor happy about; there is no ulterior motive, either, although i’m positive you may feel there is. at least, those around you feel it, and so you think that is what you should also feel. i’ve clocked that from the very beginning, when you spat venom on my name, but did not leave. instead you remained, stock still, and awaited the storm to pass. i had no idea if the message would even send, given what i’d been told, and when it did things fell into place for me. the cogs turned, and, somewhere in the glow of fear, a light flickered; the spark that’d lit the match survived, hadn’t it? what an absolutely terrifying conundrum to have, i thought. perhaps the cruelest part in everything is how grossly misunderstood this is. to those outside of it, we are betraying what already existed, but neither of us have done anything wrong, and that is confusing. why are we made to feel so wrong about emotions that, in the grief we face, feels right? why does love get reduced to romantic affection only? i can’t be sure what it is i feel if i am only allowed to sit pretty, and wait. i don’t want to wait for you to decide it is safe enough to reach for me. i am here, willing, and able, with or without you. that will not change; whatever has bound my soul to yours is entirely yours to keep, and whether you deserve it or not, well… that is your responsibility to decide.
i can’t make you believe in the divine any more than you could make me believe in only one god. if that’s the reason you deny what is clear to everyone else, fine, but know that your god will not be happy to see you defy what was put in front of you on purpose. i do not disrespect my gods that way, because i have seen firsthand what it can cost you, and what little i have left are the things i refuse to let go of. i was warned of your avoidance long before ever knowing the path that was made for us, in the stories she shared of your brashness, of how the privilege stained the beauty of who you actually are. you are not your anger, or your irrationality, or your indulgence, no; you are so much more than it all; you are the sun as i am the moon, your moon, and so our dance will remain until you are ready to face it. i will be patient for now, not because i want to be, but because i have to be. for your sake, and for the delicacy of our circumstance. will it reassure you to hear that i am not asking of you for the rest of your life to be solely mine? i am, however, asking you to slow down and breathe, and to look at me, truly look at me; look onto me, again, as though you were looking at the only shred of salvation; salvation that was handpicked for you, by the winged girl over our heads.
loving you was not a choice i make lightly, not with what could be at stake for the future, not with the fact that it could mean losing you altogether, because if you do not choose me, i understand. i’m the wildcard; the beast in the bog; the witch behind curtains that people like you marvel at. i’m the reactive dog you pass by and scoff at in the street, the one that you think about later, and regret not stopping for. i’m sorry for it. i’m sorry for the confusion you’ll face, but remember; i am here, and i am prepared to take you as you are, as the broken man you became in your search for greatness. i am the one meant to understand every nuance that makes you who you are, she who does not lean away from darkness. quite the opposite, it seems; i have done nothing but lean into it, instead. i like it that way, a lot. my darkness careens in your direction, with purpose. i will not deny it, and i hope you do not keep doing so; i should have been in your arms that day, even if that meant hurting others in our worlds, and if you do not agree, you’re a bad liar. i knew that before i knew you, as well. that’s fear based thought, though, i do fear most; lying to yourself so well that you believe what atrocities leave your brain space. i think you hate to be disbelieved, to have your integrity questioned, and that’s exactly why i’m here. i want you to face the darkness, and grow from it, grow with it.
is that too much to ask of you? i don’t ask this soon, but someday. if you lean in, will the day come that it ends abruptly, and disrupts all we gave up to have it? gods, i hope not. i hope, if you do choose to stay, that it is a decision you made clear of mind. that you’ll have considered everything, and know it is true that it is what you want. you’re a very intelligent man, if i do say so myself, and i don’t say that often, if ever. the lists will help, the willingness to feel will, too. and if by some cruelty beyond hell you aren’t ready, that you choose to leave me behind without keeping the line open. don’t keep me around for when it is convenient, because i am fragile as a bomb, and i do not want to hurt you if finally, i detonate. to be hurt in that way, by you, would surely be my undoing. i do not deserve it. you’ll know the truth regardless, so if it does come down to that, you will feel the protection that envelopes my soul and see no mercy with it. for that i am also sorry, i know you did not choose it willingly. may you see me for who i am rather than what others wish you to see, as i do, you. i care about you, too, by the way. you don’t have to say it, although, i’d like you to. maybe it really is just that weird to feel as we do for one another. i don’t care. i don’t care, i don’t care, i don’t fucking care! i want to selfish for once, selfish likewise how you weren’t ever afforded. can we have that, together? i want to know you, i want you to know me, and my life, and my people… you’d like them, she did. they’re far from perfect, their flaws are sometimes too much to take in, but they’re real, and the love is real. the masks do not exist. i think i’d like yours too? i’d take the masking with the promise that we peel them away, together, the second we were done. that’s what you wanted tonight, isn’t it? talking felt like welcoming home an old friend, for me, anyway.
the right people, with the right intentions, will do that to you. i desperately await finding out if you are as right as the stars tell me you are, as i imagine you may be. or maybe you’re not at all, and this whole thing is for naught. in that case, i’m sorry for misunderstanding you that severely, that would be my mistake.
i fear i understand now, to some degree, what this has been for you; a fetishization of something that, someone that, whether you understand it within yourself or not, feels exotic. i’m not from another culture, but, we grew up living two completely different lives, and although you’ve seen a part of this world, what you’ve seen and what i present are two very different things as well. to someone like you on the outside, i am no one important and no one worth stepping away from your life for, but so quickly did that change because, and i am very confident on this, you saw someone worth loving; someone worth setting the mask aside for, removing the armor for, being open for; it scares you, does it not? that so quickly did no one, become someone, to you of all people. you’ve loved before, i do not believe i am the only one by far, and you’ve felt those strange connections that make little sense in the moment, yet those choices were still safe for you; women your parents would smile at, without faltering, because thinking twice to like them was simple. there’s some proof, somewhere in existence, on paper, that they come from something magnificent, whereas i… i have the names in my pedigree, actually many names that might make me easy to swallow for people like you; they’re names i barely know, and therein is an ancestral sin; i am not the last or only estranged soul in my line, and likely won’t be the last.
i’m not like that, and you know it. i don’t make sense to people like you for it, either; there’s a certain privilege that comes from safety, not that your life has always been perfect, but in more ways than one, you existed in a world of love, genuine love, and comfort. for me there was love, and then there was so much pain that, unfortunately, the little girl in me succumbed to many a time throughout my life; who i am, and who i could have, should have, would have been are twisted sisters. my armor isn’t removable anymore, it’s actually taken enough heat that it is melted into my skin, a formidable defense against those that want to get too close. it’s still warm to the touch, too, and you noticed. i’d say that’s why things changed that day, in the small ways, the ways of the invisible barrier that separated two bodies that were close enough to touch, that wanted to touch. you’ve been different for me too, though you may think this an entirely calculated thing, which i am sorry for if you do. i don’t know why my heart has screamed out for yours as strongly as it does, or why i continue to allow myself to be so viciously disrespected by a man whose never said a word about it. people look unto me as though i am the crazy one, but shall we break down the last two months, and list all the things you’ve said versus what you did, and how you showed up for me?
there’s plenty of people important to you in your life whom deserve the softest of sentiments you hold, and yet, somehow, and for some reason, there you are hiding yourself away during quiet moments to share them, with me. i can feel how impacted you are by what is shared in words between us. your emotions are strong, stronger than most. usually i’m afforded time to process intensity from someone, but you? oh, darling man, no, i was not at all. you were what a hurricane is to the small folk and i, an unsuspecting fawn left alone for the first day in their life, forced to weather it on my own. this loss hit, and the second i was finished feeling for myself, wouldn’t you know it, it was your face imprinted behind my eyelids. i wanted to know how you were, if you needed something, if you needed me. when i had originally reached out, i hadn’t paid any attention, and as i realized my mistake you had answered, and suddenly things made a whole lot more sense. those first conversations i hold very dear to me, because i feel you were giving me a side of yourself you weren’t expecting to, and sharing an intimacy that shook you to your core almost as awfully as mine did. the day you hovered me was the one day you allowed the strings of fate to beckon you from all that you know for something you don’t, and truly, what an honor it was to be the person for that. what a fucking honor it was to be the one you wanted to reach for in a room filled with love for you, and yours.
still… i did not intend to disrupt your life in this way. it is not something i am proud of, nor happy about; there is no ulterior motive, either, although i’m positive you may feel there is. at least, those around you feel it, and so you think that is what you should also feel. i’ve clocked that from the very beginning, when you spat venom on my name, but did not leave. instead you remained, stock still, and awaited the storm to pass. i had no idea if the message would even send, given what i’d been told, and when it did things fell into place for me. the cogs turned, and, somewhere in the glow of fear, a light flickered; the spark that’d lit the match survived, hadn’t it? what an absolutely terrifying conundrum to have, i thought. perhaps the cruelest part in everything is how grossly misunderstood this is. to those outside of it, we are betraying what already existed, but neither of us have done anything wrong, and that is confusing. why are we made to feel so wrong about emotions that, in the grief we face, feels right? why does love get reduced to romantic affection only? i can’t be sure what it is i feel if i am only allowed to sit pretty, and wait. i don’t want to wait for you to decide it is safe enough to reach for me. i am here, willing, and able, with or without you. that will not change; whatever has bound my soul to yours is entirely yours to keep, and whether you deserve it or not, well… that is your responsibility to decide.
i can’t make you believe in the divine any more than you could make me believe in only one god. if that’s the reason you deny what is clear to everyone else, fine, but know that your god will not be happy to see you defy what was put in front of you on purpose. i do not disrespect my gods that way, because i have seen firsthand what it can cost you, and what little i have left are the things i refuse to let go of. i was warned of your avoidance long before ever knowing the path that was made for us, in the stories she shared of your brashness, of how the privilege stained the beauty of who you actually are. you are not your anger, or your irrationality, or your indulgence, no; you are so much more than it all; you are the sun as i am the moon, your moon, and so our dance will remain until you are ready to face it. i will be patient for now, not because i want to be, but because i have to be. for your sake, and for the delicacy of our circumstance. will it reassure you to hear that i am not asking of you for the rest of your life to be solely mine? i am, however, asking you to slow down and breathe, and to look at me, truly look at me; look onto me, again, as though you were looking at the only shred of salvation; salvation that was handpicked for you, by the winged girl over our heads.
loving you was not a choice i make lightly, not with what could be at stake for the future, not with the fact that it could mean losing you altogether, because if you do not choose me, i understand. i’m the wildcard; the beast in the bog; the witch behind curtains that people like you marvel at. i’m the reactive dog you pass by and scoff at in the street, the one that you think about later, and regret not stopping for. i’m sorry for it. i’m sorry for the confusion you’ll face, but remember; i am here, and i am prepared to take you as you are, as the broken man you became in your search for greatness. i am the one meant to understand every nuance that makes you who you are, she who does not lean away from darkness. quite the opposite, it seems; i have done nothing but lean into it, instead. i like it that way, a lot. my darkness careens in your direction, with purpose. i will not deny it, and i hope you do not keep doing so; i should have been in your arms that day, even if that meant hurting others in our worlds, and if you do not agree, you’re a bad liar. i knew that before i knew you, as well. that’s fear based thought, though, i do fear most; lying to yourself so well that you believe what atrocities leave your brain space. i think you hate to be disbelieved, to have your integrity questioned, and that’s exactly why i’m here. i want you to face the darkness, and grow from it, grow with it.
is that too much to ask of you? i don’t ask this soon, but someday. if you lean in, will the day come that it ends abruptly, and disrupts all we gave up to have it? gods, i hope not. i hope, if you do choose to stay, that it is a decision you made clear of mind. that you’ll have considered everything, and know it is true that it is what you want. you’re a very intelligent man, if i do say so myself, and i don’t say that often, if ever. the lists will help, the willingness to feel will, too. and if by some cruelty beyond hell you aren’t ready, that you choose to leave me behind without keeping the line open. don’t keep me around for when it is convenient, because i am fragile as a bomb, and i do not want to hurt you if finally, i detonate. to be hurt in that way, by you, would surely be my undoing. i do not deserve it. you’ll know the truth regardless, so if it does come down to that, you will feel the protection that envelopes my soul and see no mercy with it. for that i am also sorry, i know you did not choose it willingly. may you see me for who i am rather than what others wish you to see, as i do, you. i care about you, too, by the way. you don’t have to say it, although, i’d like you to. maybe it really is just that weird to feel as we do for one another. i don’t care. i don’t care, i don’t care, i don’t fucking care! i want to selfish for once, selfish likewise how you weren’t ever afforded. can we have that, together? i want to know you, i want you to know me, and my life, and my people… you’d like them, she did. they’re far from perfect, their flaws are sometimes too much to take in, but they’re real, and the love is real. the masks do not exist. i think i’d like yours too? i’d take the masking with the promise that we peel them away, together, the second we were done. that’s what you wanted tonight, isn’t it? talking felt like welcoming home an old friend, for me, anyway.
the right people, with the right intentions, will do that to you. i desperately await finding out if you are as right as the stars tell me you are, as i imagine you may be. or maybe you’re not at all, and this whole thing is for naught. in that case, i’m sorry for misunderstanding you that severely, that would be my mistake.
first time player, long time Pokèmon lover! within the last year I finally got back into card collecting and want to eventually play tcg. for now I’ll stick with the creature combat lol. shoot me a DM and I’ll send you my tag thing?
perhaps we could let ourselves feel it. grief doesn’t have to be gruesome, you know? it can be beautiful, and it can be something so much bigger than one person. grief can open your world, as much as it can change it. would you like for yours to change? i know, and can say confidently, i do.
nonetheless… i like your brain.
oh to be a tiny dragon inch worming my way through life, yet here i am, paying TAXES.
I think you are here, and I think the only reason you ‘haven’t found me yet’, is because you’re not paying attention to the bigger picture. In the wake of the loss, of my grief, I adorn a mask that aligns with the level of professionalism that’s needed to run a small city, regardless of if it is warranted or not. I’ve been a, mostly, put together woman in your face since we met — but you don’t know me well enough to know you’re overthinking things far too much — take a breath, and pay attention, I promise you’ll find me quicker that way, no? I’m not purposefully elusive, however I’m merely repaying you in the tune of my words instead of falsities. Why didn’t you grab for me like you so desired to that day? I want to know, from your perspective, what the threat to you was. I moved in closer and waited for you close the gap, I refused to intrude on your personal space without constant, and perhaps that’s my fault for thinking you were able to be brave. I wonder if you, too, were too anxious over the prying eyes of others, or did you feel the same as I, too scared to bridge the gap? I understand you in either case, but please know my end was truly just me needing you to lead the moment. I saw how badly you wanted to fall apart into me, because honestly, I wanted to be in your arms too. More than I wanted to be in anyone else’s, and no, I can’t tell you why, since I have absolutely no idea what’s prompted the strong emotions that now take up the majority of my days. I’m struggling, but not more than usual, I’ll still survive until the next time someone is ripped from me.
is my number actually blocked, and if it is, did your heart break having to do it? did you think i was too daft to notice what story it was of which you stopped viewing? do you wait until you’re alone to check the public ones? tell me. come at me as you are, as the man you are, and tell me, not the rest of them.
please just block me. for my sake, for yours, just remove me from view, because you’re proving my point in the cruelest way possible. what you want is so loud that it’s drowning out everything else going on, and how is that fair to anyone? i asked for you to give me a sign and, unfortunately, i need to protect myself. your silence is the sign, then.
at least that’s what it feels like from where i’m sitting, which is approximately 1.2 hours away from you and in my opinion, too many miles. i don’t want to feel this way knowing it’s not going to matter, but, i said your name a little while ago and as soon as the last syllable left my lips, your name was right there.
— and i wish i could know you much more sometimes. wish i could do nothing with you. sit in the yard while the day dies, leave it all on the table, and i’ll say “i love you”
i noticed your eyes on me before anyone else’s, with so many ready to take the impact and weight of my emotions, across an entire ocean of faces not familiar and strange. noticed how you wanted to be close to me, reach for me, and be in my line of sight. i felt the weight of the wanting, and it drowned out the grief, because something in me is screaming to be close to you, too. i saw you leave your supposed comfort to hover where i stood, though each time my mind quieted long enough to reach for you, there was someone in my place instead, and with eyes on me from elsewhere that have every right to be afraid. i’ve lived in this space of subliminals my whole life, it’s really nothing new to me, and yet you’ve disturbed all i thought i knew about connection. i didn’t have to see you face to face to feel the ever-curiousness you hold, like a boys, like someone who might love me. maybe the intensity is less than romantic, and more so resentment? we were scared. i’m sorry for that, she knew what was happening before i did. have i complicated your life at a time where you need softness? are you also drowning in emotions that aren’t yours? don’t shut me out, please. i’ve spent years being shut out. i am good, i am genuine, i am competent. not so pretty, not as pretty as her, but i could try and, realistically, you could close your eyes for a minute and sit in it with me. i just want to talk to you, that’s all i want to do, and i don’t know how, but she is telling me you want that almost as much.
i am a girl who’s plagued in the wanting to know why. that’s how it started, actually, all those years ago – wanting to know why you looked at me like that, or why you circled your own pockets to rummage for relevance, when i was already yours and already focused on no one in the room, but you. i didn’t even put it together back then, no, my therapist had to wretch that simple little conundrum from my brain, bring it to light, and now very likely haunt me with it for the rest of my life, because if i could go back to last summer, and stop myself from that first gentled hello.
i would stare at your face in the picture and smile, but, lock the screen and set it away from me until you stopped being the only thought in the forefront of my mind, and of my eyelids. you’re the worst kind of tattoo, aren’t you? that’s bleeding out of its lines, as if it wasn’t supposed to be so concisely placed, infected and oozing, with an ire that can’t merely just be swallowed. it feels like a blade leaving pinpricks instead of kisses, and you may hate me for this, however i’d say from experience that is what loving you has always been. whatever it is i stir in you is scary enough that you won’t stay around, not forever, and i can’t do it again.
i cannot watch you love someone else, i’ve done that plenty as it is, to my own detriment. i hoped you cared, that it was nonchalance, but it isn’t – it’s the power in making me experience what she’s done unto you. you’ve replicated your pain by hurting me, purposefully, and for what? your pride, loverboy, always your fucking pride. you aren’t a nice guy, you’re vindictive, except for you it’s not about hurting the person who’s actually hurting you, it’s striking out at anyone who will take it in the name of their love for you, and that was me back then, too. you were right, you were more their friend than mine, and i was undoubtedly yours in every respect of the word, beyond friends. we weren’t friends because a part of you pitied me, and the other part?
that part of you was wide eyed, all too fascinated by the woods witch of the once great tribal lands our ancestors stained the land red over to force from the hands of natives, the one that we call ‘the place we grew up too quickly in’ as though it’s an affectionate, warm moniker. having you for those few months was the briefest, yet somehow most profound, peace i’ve had in a decade.
i am my problem, this is true, and in a few short weeks i’ve done some absolutely insane things, and you should’ve been the person present for them, but you’re far more comfortable in the underground, where the bubble around you is made with steel ( steel etched with daffodils, and daisies, signed with my name, somewhere you’d understand ) but sweet boy, i am no longer the flame, i am a dying star that’s gone cold, so cold even the sun bends the other way to avoid the responsibility. the ambition is tiredness, i can not glow the degree necessary to reach you in there, the exhaustion would kill me. i did try, though, in the only ways i knew how to, to show you i was willing to let it breathe.
i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin the image of what you wanted from me in your head, i was scared – you grazed the sensitive ticks in my brain with truly knowing safety, and to be faced with losing it? losing you? i had just realized i love you, i’ve loved you the whole time, that there was a reason the piece you ripped from me when shit changed in the past was as big as it was. i’ve sat helplessly and watched the man i love let the chains of depression cocoon him into its clutches, and he who emerged from the inner rapture isn’t that man. you know, something clicked for me tonight at your response, and perhaps you haven’t caught it yet, but each moment since this began where i’ve triggered your bipolar, usually with the pressure of accountability, you will strike but you do not target. you are careful with me in a manner you can’t afford yourself, let alone the woman you claim is the one you truly love, or your mother for that matter.
you’ll act stubborn, and oh so indignant sometimes, but when it mattered, you held your tongue. i’ll happily call you on the fact the only way you’re ever confident in something you’re saying is after you’ve i’ve applied pressure of affordability, worn my point enough to wear you down. countless instances you passed it off as how hilarious to think you’d stoop so low below your station, but we are both aware it’s the end of denying shit if i am proven right. i started to strike after you struck, a precautionary warning that i am aware, that i won’t repeat the pattern and do this to myself another go, and every reassurance i deserved, you’d given me. i waited my whole life to feel that safety, and of course, it had to be you whom collapsed this shriveled up shred of hopefulness i’d had in anything.
we were teenagers wrapped up in one another many nights, clothed, feeling our vulnerability freely – emotional connection is everything to you and to me. i believe i turned you on in the mental before i ever sparked a physical reaction. i do know you, and although you might not believe it, i listened and learned in watching, and knowing you was knowing that your body showing excitement for another body, especially one like mine, was your body admitting it regardless if the brain and heart still denied its existence. a prince shouldn’t love a woods witch, his options are endless, so why did you search for me here? past the lands themselves, why did you see the dying firelight i was, and move forward in helping ignite it to its former glory, just to toss me in the pile of cards, with of the best move in your hand sent with the discard…? how did seeing me hurt from your actions not tear your insides up in wake of the regret, and why do you not care?
you don’t want me to go, but with nothing, i am asked to stay – to sit pretty, and up ‘till now, i did so flawlessly, not that you’d say it out loud. i did not need something concrete, or definitive, or permanent, i needed my best friend, the man of the boy who held me, who once whispered in my ear of all the gruesome things he would do the men that harmed me, which i received as a lullaby, because your voice is the sound i pull from any amount of nothingness, and send across distances for me to someday step into. tonight, i sat and waited by the door of your avoidance, tongue in cheek, with the light blown out well into the night. i admit defeat, loverboy, my flag is raised high in surrender, for the woods witch must descend the emerald city steps, to find the forest, and find her soul, if it is not with yours.
12 years of every touch from someone else melting my innards, missing a person who, even without admitting it, never missed me a beat. i am slowly, but certainly, laying the stones that’ll head me for safety elsewhere, somewhere you will refuse to go, because this isn’t the lifetime we get it right, i suppose. yeah, maybe i am crazy, but maybe you really are merely that prepared to let fear allow something beautiful to slip through your fingers, to be lost to what you wouldn’t face with me.
i love you, i have so much of my own grievances to account for, but… i wanted your hand over mine while i dealt with them, and be there for yours, i quite enjoyed that job. tonight i begged my gods, and shamefully your god as well, to show me any inkling that you are here, present, and care; what i was shown was the exact opposite of that, and i am reminded i am easily absorbed, not swallowed, for the analogy of the flame is my totality, is me. you asked about what the grief was, and i must ask, why so weatherboy? ‘please don’t be in love with someone else.’
being near her these days feels like a betrayal to you. being kissed, getting fucked into sheets you’ve never touched — it is defilement to a temple that was created in your honor. and when anyone‘s hands are all over me all i can see is your face when i close my eyes, because we’ve never had each other in body but i’ve spent years memorizing what it felt like to be wrapped up beside you as ’friends‘. you don’t care either, that’s the worst fucking part.
there’s someone who would laugh at her for saying something like this, because they know her as someone entirely different than what’s actually inside her mind‘s eye at all times, and if i’m being realistic, many could say the same. the mask she wears is larger than life, as an amalgamation of everyone she’s ever known, and especially of those she’s loved, or lost. it hides just about everything except physical tears, blemished and wounds. she calls it her “blankie”; it’s obviously no blanket, but, it’s her only constant, consistent comfort and has been the entirety of this life, and likely the last as well. no one held onto the things she loved from her childhood, nor youth.
truthfully she doesn’t exist to anyone besides the records, of which she refuses to read, and also from memories she cannot trust any longer.
trust that she’s had plenty of things she wished to keep forever but, alas, the girl is afflicted. she’s always been seen as the problem, tragically fragile beyond what both her body and brain allow capacity for, and somewhere in the depths of all she’s become, she is pure. albeit her body that’s defiled from years of misuse, by rough hands that didn’t give a fuck about her unless her jaw was parted to take it, and albeit the never-ending abyss in her brain, she is pure. each mask peels off ever so carefully, but rarely has anyone made it to the final wall. those that have were battling excalibur, the tears and rips useless. she would rather sacrifice her own flesh than ever be seen again, haunted from the endlessly daunting question of why.
her blankie protects her from the horrors once bestowed upon her, old and new, therefore she calls it her sword and shield. she hasn’t always been like this though, nor is she ever just like this for fun, contrary to what you hear otherwise.
the girl is a garden, of sorts, where totality finds her under the gibbous as it wanes. she’s powered in the moon’s glow, and by nobody‘s accord but hers. there’s orchids and daisies of every color, and the sunflowers galore! it is a beautiful sight. the cathedral of her mind has ceilings vaulted the heavens, with walls adorned in all the colors imaginable to choose to her liking. the colors are her moods, reflections of memories and people, of love and greatly from loss. she’s golden draped in silver, sapphire and moonstone, but the eyes are storm cloud grey-green, full of promise. hopefulness. something the real world doesn’t see from her often.
the garden is most alive when she’s loved to the fullest. three decades almost completely barren, you tend to lose sight of yourself and the potential you possess, and that’s exactly why she can’t believe that, finally, she’s found home. home, and with humans who treat her kindly. those that don’t rush her. they ask little but receive more whilst they give everything, and help make her whole.
in the quiet night, when the world is asleep, when you should be resting before a long day — find me on the evergreen underfoot with no intention except exploring what we both won’t risk saying out loud.
your smile today melted me, you know. you’re so fucking handsome it’s hard to focus on anything, and i get so nervous, but i think you know that.
why are you doing that thing, exactly? the sweet thing, the thing(s) that make my heart go from 100 to 0 in a matter of seconds, because the look in your eye makes me believe you can see that life, too. maybe not with me, though it wouldn’t be so bad, right? please stop doing the things. the sweet things. i can’t handle anymore. i want to thank you in all the ways, softest and dirtiest, but i can’t. i can’t even hug you, but the thought of being wrapped up by you? fuck. please stop doing the sweet things.
signed, a girl interrupted
finding out
your wife
is in these subs
after cheating,
after the infidelity,
is like
finding out
the world does stop turning
when your heart
is broken.
to someone;
you were right, by the way. shockingly so.
i do know you, and that’s exactly why i called things out in the manner i did, when i did it. the thought of depending on anyone too much rattled you to your bones, this i understand, because every time before me you’d lean just to be let go and suffer the crash alone.
yet, were you ever actually alone? i was your constant even then, as teenagers, but you always overlooked me for someone else. i never held it against you, though it wore me down to nothingness. therefore… you realized. i know you did.
each time the intensity rose, you retracted. each time attention was brought to it, off into the void you went. like what we were doing didn’t matter, like i did not matter.
you really did have it good for a while, didn’t you? the best of a world you had no responsibility to. you became everything to me and i had to beg for the bare minimum the second i acknowledged it to you. that’s my fault and i realize that, my lack in boundaries tends to get in the way often. of everything.
and so, in realizing what i meant to you, was to admit you depended on something, someone. me. you couldn‘t deny it any longer, because you’d finally put two and two together! the denial from the past was stripped from you, and you took it as a threat instead of nurtured it.
perhaps you wanted to see if i’d “choose you”, but how could i have chosen someone who’d hide that from me whilst i begged for clarity? you were unsafe for me after proving you could be safe. i have enough hardships, too many things going on at once. you used to be so steady, so reliable, that the times you weren’t didn’t affect me this badly. you knew the hell i was sitting in, the reflection of a girl you knew in the past, barely hanging on with her life at the hands of betrayal, and still you had no qualms in contributing to my pain further.
you did want to depend on me, too. you considered it and, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for whatever made you decide nevermind - i would’ve done something to change your mind if you’d have let me - i could’ve been everything you told me you wanted, that you needed, and more. i really wanted to be.
i forgive you for holding your projections against me. i get it in my own way, i didn’t come into this completely clean and i could've done things differently myself, but the outcome wouldn’t be better and we both know that. your mind was made up years ago, when your inner child was freshly wounded, a notion that carried into now and has ruined the person you are.
“why do you cry alone when you’re the one there for everyone else?” i felt that about you for the ways you loved me, i feel it toward myself more so today though. i should have you to lean on, i did deserve it.
however it was never about, or because of, me. both sides are aware.
and you’ll say it is anyway, so you don’t have to admit i’m the actual one that got away, to those in your life that‘ve tried to scope the depths of what you feel for me out, whom you lie to and deflect at when you call them wild for thinking such things (i’ve heard it from the horses mouth, i promise).
we agree that your lack of denial is strange. neither here nor there, i guess. water under the bridge. homies 4L, right? at a distance. apart of my everyday for 5 months without question & gone in a day, yet i won’t tell you how that’s hurt me.
from no one.🌙