autumn leaves

let’s go to the park and pretend nothing ever happened. pretend we’re just two kids, in early november on a swingset. let’s bury ourselves in leaves until there’s nothing left but vague wisps of painful memories.

let’s watch shitty adaptations of romeo and juliet and laugh ourselves silly. let’s dance on bookshelves, and make stupid jokes, and cookies, and superhero alter-egos, and butcher the word tortilla, and talk over our feelings with copious amounts of tea.

let’s look at the stars, because i’m not afraid of the dark anymore. i mean, it’s not like i haven’t been through worse.  

and sometimes, that makes me so angry. because i never got that chance. to just be innocent, and carefree, and happy. i don’t even know what an okay version of myself would look like, honestly.

but for what it’s worth… when i’m with you, i feel like a kid. like the person i never got to be. like some small piece of an alternate universe brought into reality. like i’m free.

and i know that shouldn’t seem like a huge deal. but it means the world to me.


I feel like I’ve been writing a lot of sad stuff of late, so time for your weekly dose of tooth-rottingly fluffy friendship poetry for your poetry needs. I actually kind of hate this right now, but it was in my queue, and I don’t have anything else to post for today, so, uh, here you all go. 

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i remember

i remember you. i remember bookshops and tea at midnight, and that the first time i used a debit card it was with you. i remember you. because maybe if i just focus hard enough on other people’s issues, i won’t have to remember that i have them too. i remember you. because maybe if i can hold you close enough in my mind, you won’t leave me. like they always said you’d leave me. because i’m nothing without the words i’ve spent half my life having drilled into me. and i remember you. who gave me love where i expected hate. who made me smile, and laugh. and feel safe. and i remember you, because i never tell you, how terrified i am of losing you. or hurting you. or being abandoned, like they always said i’d be by you. and i just never thought someone could know about the monsters in my chest and still want to be there. by my side. as my friend. because i remember the nights, when i look in the mirror, and it doesn’t even feel like i’m in there. and so i will remember the second when i realized that you have monsters too. and maybe i don’t have to be afraid anymore. maybe the past can be the past. maybe the past doesn’t have to be the future. and maybe we don’t have to be the losers, or the outcasts, or the victims anymore. and maybe we’re more than what anyone else ever bargained for. and maybe someday, we will write stories on blank pages, and we won’t need to make jigsaw puzzles out of our broken pieces. and the past will be the past. and the future will be the future.


i feel like this has a really terrible title, or at least a mildly uncreative one, but i’m just going to quietly ignore that until i can think of a better one.


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when i laughed

trigger warning: numbness, suicidal thoughts

i mean i’m scared of the depths of these feelings i mean / you make me so happy / and i am so scared you are not telling the truth / and i am so scared you’ll go / and more than that / i’m scared that i’ll fall / i’m scared i’ll let you fall because / i’m sleepless tonight and where the hell did all the colours and potential and hope of this day go and / for some reason i can only write when i’m about to fall asleep / like emotions are too scary to be felt until my brain is at the edge of being numbed out and maybe / i can understand / why people try alcohol as a way of dulling their emotions / because if there’s nothing else we can do to make ourselves feel like nothing / i mean maybe that’s no so unreasonable / i mean oh my god where are these thoughts coming from / i mean i’m scared / i mean you can tell i’m having a bad day when i spend my free time changing my tumblr theme for no apparent reason / rather than you know writing and trying my best to work through these feelings / my heart is empty and i kind of miss when the empty was all i knew / because when the empty was all i knew / there was nothing i could do about it / because when the empty was all i knew / i still had the time to take care of myself / and i know that’s stupid it’s just / when i laughed / i meant my feelings are a black hole i dance around and every word both makes it better and brings me closer / i mean i’ve gotten to the point with my writing where in order to be all right i kind of need my words to be loved by someone else / and i just want to escape / and i can’t stop thinking about the fight / the fight / the fight / and i’ve gotten to the point / with my writing / where i can’t do this without a timer / a timer / practically cradling reminding me that every day i wake up in the hospital of my body / and all the lights are blinking sirens of my heart / and my heart is telling you to let go now and / you don’t let go now / and i don’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me / and i don’t know what you would think if i told you how much you mean to me / and honestly / when i smash the keyboard / what i really mean is that / there’s a traffic jam of words / and all of them are kind of trying / to run out / and they have hurt me before / and they have made mistakes before / and i don’t really trust them / but / i need to use them / anyway / and / that scares me / and i’m naked / emotionally / trapped inside / this mind / and how can that not make someone want to die / i don’t understand please don’t see me falling apart / please don’t tell me this is the end


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this is a poem

for poetry club

this is a poem for angsty poetry. this is a poem for every afternoon spent trying to drown my brain out because i don’t have the energy for my mental illness today. this is a poem for every single fist i’ve slammed against myself because i still don’t understand and the rage is curled up in my chest and something about it just feels like a monster about to pounce to me. this is a poem for pounding butterfly heartbeats and standing at the edge thinking that maybe today is the day i fall. this is a poem for not falling. this is a poem for every time you’ve made me laugh. this is a poem every time we’ve said weird things to each other, only you got it. this a poem for dance parties in an empty math classroom and you tell me all about your stories over angsty music because it’s okay that we have issues. this is a poem for writing until my mind is shaking and for the first time in ages my lungs are empty. this is a poem for being six years old and alone in the world. this is a poem for the time i called you and i was panicking and  in that moment you were the only thing that could look my anxiety straight in the eye and tell it it was lying. this a poem for being scared shitless and still somehow managing to hold a sheet of paper and step up in front of a bunch of human beings and goddamn do this. this is a poem for binge-watching harry potter only it’s not a compulsion and you casually lean into my shoulder and i want to cry because it’s kind of the best feeling in the world to just to be trusted to hold the entire weight of someone else for a while. this is a poem for forests and feathered dragon noises. this is a poem despite all the unbearable days and the times i thought i couldn’t take it and the times the voice in my head told me told me anything i was worth was pointless and this is a poem despite the broken bones no one noticed, despite all the things they called us, despite numbness and confusion, despite the loneliness and the future like a black hole ahead of us, we survived. this is a poem for the fact that we. are. alive.


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friends

just clumps of people. drifting through space and time together. mouths trying to jump across the void between us, trying to breathe in time with each other’s unsteady lungs. eyes: hoping any of this matters. hearts: leaning into each other.


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