july 20th, 2019

july 20, 2019(1)

and i guess it’s been a long time since i’ve been alone this way. since i’ve been surrounded by the sound of myself and nothing else to distract me, because automated birdsong doesn’t sound the same as the reality. and because checking your notifications twenty times a day is never enough to lift my thoughts off my chest and away, away, away. and so i’ll try to swim through all the broken pieces despite my instinct to flinch away, away, away from the evidence. and i’ll try not to feel like i’m lying through my teeth when i call myself a superhero, or a queen, or a princess, or whatever title will give me control over myself, because it’s been a long time since i’ve felt like that’s true, i guess. because i am home alone and drowning out my head to replace company because i’m tired and you’re gone and i don’t know who else to be. because i can’t handle this space in my chest, where sometimes, really late at night, the monsters like to howl. like they’re calling out for every single one of their broken pieces. like they’re calling out for you to come back. come back. come back. and tell me you love me. and tell me you won’t forget me. and tell me you need me. and tell me you’ll never leave me, but this time it’s actually true. but this time you make me laugh, and you wrap me up in blankets, and you watch movies with me in your arms, and you tell me how the fuck i’m supposed to fill up this empty space in my chest where you used to be before something about you left.


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i want to learn martial arts

i want to learn martial arts(1)

because i don’t want to be trapped. or caged. i don’t want to be broken and remade and i don’t want to be afraid. i don’t want to be yours i don’t want to be afraid. i don’t want to be made of clay and if having strong arms can make me any less of a mess than i am today i will run, and jump, and i will do whatever the hell will make me like myself more than i do right now. because i remember the empty afternoons, and all the times my mind had my tackled, and all the times it felt like you were physically inside my head because i can’t wait to forget you because you are the voice in my head. you are the voice in my head. because if the only way i can communicate with you is punches and if you want to throw punches maybe i need to learn to throw punches too. maybe i need to learn to fight because maybe i would be some kind of superhero if i could just goddamn learn to fight back. and the thoughts tumble so quickly through my mind and it’s impossible to hear it’s impossible to see, but it is there. this knot in my chest. and… i don’t know, okay? i just want to feel like i’m in charge of the monsters in my head.


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prey

prey(2)(1).png

trigger warning: self-harm

and i remember the day you taught me / to be normal taught me / to camouflage bend in as my skin slowly / crumpled into itself / because you are the hunter and i am the prey / as it all / collapsed and / my throat will swell under the weight of my thoughts and i / am / about / to / collapse and / i  / am / about / to / collapse / surrounded by support mechanisms i no longer trust because if you look a certain way it all / seems / like / bullshit / today / and the waves scream around me and i know i’m being dramatic it’s just / i’m so desperate / for you to love me / love me / the grey expanses of my head / screaming trapped can’t think thoughts are jamming love me / love me / love me / love me / because i’m always the giver in these kinds of relationships anyways and / i’m not good at loving people anyway / and i guess this is it / this is my apocalypse / this is the smoke rising up in the air this is the moment everything goes toxic and you realize that this is all you get / and honestly after that / you may as well / just / forget about it / this is my apocalypse / only nothing has actually happened / and i smash my personality like a castle to pieces now slowly / slowly / slowly / because i am a robot / and if i can’t fix myself i may as well just / fall / apart again / right? / may as well just punch myself again, right? may as well just crack open my throat and smash apart my eyes / until you find me there / bleeding on the floor / and i don’t know how to be anything other than romanticized mental illness / other than this story / other than this cage i can’t break free of / as i lie in bed / and i stare up at the versions of myself on the wall / and i want to cut off everything if that’ll make my mind / stop / just please / just stop / make it all stop / because i’ll give up every single bomb in my chest if you can just / make my head / shut the fuck up / because you taught me / to be normal / and i beleived that i needed to be normal / because you are the hunter / and i am the prey / and / it’s fading it’s just / slow / and i’ve never really been in my head before like this so / i don’t know, ok? i just don’t know.


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how to fight a feeling

how to fight(2)(1)

get pliers. and a piece of paper. and your mind is a thousand broken circuits and you read all about this in elementary school but that doesn’t mean you have any idea how to deal with it. doesn’t mean you know what to tell the weird looks and empty faces all the times it feels like they will never understand because they will never understand because. they’re different, but the kind of different that people are more likely to accept than mine, i guess. because i listen to my feelings too much and you listen to your feelings too little and i guess we’ll probably always hate each other a bit for that. hold your heart up at the operating table and wonder if any of it means anything because it’s always so complicated. because it’s always about grabbing other people’s attention before they run away because they’re always the ones to run away, and i honestly can’t even breathe when i think about this. close your eyes. apparently, there are people who get out of this. apparently, should be able to control my mental illness. picking out every single dark thought as i am at the edge of blinded, and when i cannot see, i will ask you to see for me. and i will trust you. because you promised me something, and because i believe you for the sake of my sanity. i believe you because i can’t do this alone. as much as i’d like to. as much as my heart is surrounded by barbed wire. as much as i don’t like to admit i’m bleeding because i hurt myself again because in the moment, it didn’t even seem like a bad thing. even though it is a bad thing. i just don’t know how to realize it’s a bad thing. because i don’t even think i realize the extent of which my head is broken. so i stand in the mirror. reading off a piece of paper all the things my therapist told me to remember.  and in the morning, the words feel just a little more true then they did yesterday.


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july 19th, 2019

july 19th, 2019(1)

and the stars glimmer on the horizon. we spend most of the day watching a series of unfortunate events on netlfix and discussing cults and taking turns reading each other fanfiction. on the roof. and i close my eyes. and let the air rush over me. and it’s probably not safe, which is the point, because it’s silent, and you can hear the birds, screaming, and it’s 1a.m. and i tell you to sleep but i’ll stay awake long enough for you to read the first chapter you’ve been writing all night to me, because being sleepless is different when you’re tangled up in a blanket on someone’s bedroom floor because there is no damage that cannot be undone by sleeping in until ten a.m. beside someone. and the sun rises. and i think the therapy is helping, because for the first time in a long time, i’m not afraid of being alone, and i’m not exhausted, and my head feels new again. because we’re laughing on our stomach and we’re drinking tea, and we’re cuddling cats. and i’m reading you fanfiction at 1a.m, and i don’t even think it’s helping but i do it anyway. because the words taste nice on my tongue. because for a while, i don’t feel like a bad friend. or a bad person. and my mind can’t hurt me because if you start tossing and turning in your sleep i’ll be there to battle the nightmares away. and i think i trust you to do the same for me. because i think at this point, you know a good half of me, and that’s more than most people ever see. because i think i have trust issues, but in the acoustic guitar and the dreaming crackles of your speakers, it all sort of disappears. because we’re friends. and that means we can build a little bubble of time where we can be kids for a while. and that means that for one perfect second, talking about our emotions at 1a.m., i feel like a miracle.


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