the humid air snuggles up close to me. and stays there. and my blood starts to come to a boil as i look into your eyes, because i hate you even more than i hate myself tonight. furious tears, dripping off my chin one. at. a. time.
and you know, they say the skies are rife with disease. say it’s never going back to normal. not completely. and some days, i can’t help but wonder. if this step could be the butterfly that causes the tsunami. if this is going to be the last time you get to see me…
they say i’m withering. like a parched august flower. and you know, maybe it’s time to empty out the vase. rather than just changing the water.
they say i am parched soil after a long, hot wildfire. crumbling under the slightest pressure.
and the steam seeps into my lungs, air too thick to breathe. and little girl, is this too much for you?
because if this is enough to scare you… then you haven’t seen anything.
it was a good day. i think. and we went to the city, and we felt like big kids all of a sudden. didn’t we? took deep breaths of the fresh blue air, and ate fancy macaroons, and pretended there was not a problem in the world we couldn’t fix, even though that really isn’t true.
went shopping, and dressed up like the people we wish we were. and tried to swallow down the panic. and that was one of the last times i saw you. wasn’t it?
but it was a good day. a really, really good day. and if i had known what was coming, i wouldn’t have spent it any other way.
and i just want to go back. want to bury myself in the past, and stay there forever. where things were okay. where every day, i didn’t wake up, and feel this fucking afraid.
because now i’m just alone. and scared. and unsure. and sometimes, it feels like the floor is crumbling beneath me. and it’s just not like that anymore.
So apparently now I literally only write semi-depressing nostalgic poetry about all the things I miss pre-quarantine. But, I don’t know, I am starting to learn how to cope with this, and make something semi-productive out of a really hard time for me. I haven’t had a complete breakdown in a while, and I’m functioning. I’m surviving. I can’t say I’m doing “good” honestly–although I don’t know if I ever have been able to honestly say that, for a prolonged period of time. But I am doing okay, which I think is kind of all I can ask for right now. I hope you all are doing okay, too. We’re going to get through this together. I have to believe that. Oh, yeah, and on a completely different note, the first episode of my podcast is hot off the digital press and literally just came out! You can listen to it here.
they’re all watching you. you know that? and they’re all going to see you when you fall. because you will fall. and someday, you’re not going to be able to glue the shattered pieces back together and they’ll laugh. and they’ll kiss their lovers, and they’ll have a big, fancy ball.
and oh, my little whipping girl. you’d better be ready, when they come for you. claw, and tooth, and all.
because it’s a scary world out there, you know. and is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life, until your body turns cold?
because i can feel the tremors in your hands. the scars spreading across your skin. and you had better fucking know that not a shred of your self-esteem is making it out alive from this.
and i know you want to tell them to truth. but maybe a little girl like you just… isn’t strong enough to.
With the upcoming release of my podcast, I’ve really been struggling with anxiety and self-consciousness. It’s scary, releasing this big project you’ve been working on for months–to people who may or may not even like it, and knowing full well that no one could even look at it, and although you can advertise the heck out of it, ultimately, you can’t control what people think of this thing you poured your heart into. And maybe people will hate it. I’m in no way a stranger to that feeling, but… well, with all of the other added stresses of a podcast release, plus keeping up with schoolwork, it hasn’t exactly been great.