just because you are not mine, doesn’t mean i can’t wish you were.
i feel you in the sun shining down on my shoulders. in the breeze in my hair. in the tears on my cheeks. in the iron in my blood. in the taste on my tongue. in the scratch on my left shoulder. in bit marks down my neck. in your initial hanging from a chain around my neck.
i feel my innocence slip away like a peaceful afternoon after a dreadful week.
i have this terrible longing hiding inside my chest.
i miss you like orpheus misses eurydice.
when i can’t sleep at night, it is your memory playing in my head that keeps me awake.
normals childhoods don’t exist. parents break up. dogs die. houses burn. friends betray. money runs out.
my brothers are not my blood, but they are mine. we have been through tragedy and triumph together. they have been my shoulder to cry on, and i have wiped away many of their tears myself. my soul will always be tied with theirs.
i love my found family with every fiber of my being. they know the hues and textures of my soul, just as i know their’s.
as i watched my best friend hug her boyfriend today, i saw new love floating in her eyes.
i only write to distract my self from my own self-destructive behavior.
i will die trying to prove my critics wrong.
california’s burning down but all people care about is putting videos of the flames over trending audio for a couple bucks.
”how did you fall in love with him?”
“a hundred days of longing.”
i am here. just that. that all i am now.
i wish happiness and i could get just 5 more minutes together.
i wish that when i saw you for the first time, i would’ve run as fast as i could.
i took a deep breath for the first time in weeks today.
i crave physical touch like a drug. i crave skin to skin, soul to soul kind of touch. i crave interlocking pinkies because i need a little hit. i crave to hug people that do little things for me because it’s the only way i know how to say thank you.
i am not just a feminist, i am a supporter of people.
someone asked me today what made me so good at arguing. i shocked them to silence when i said being a good listener.
i will be screaming until i can no longer make sound.
I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT
i am too full of life for this town. far too ambitious and far too wise. my dreams can’t materialize here.
i would fight for centuries to get my old self back.
as the clock hit midnight last night, i became new and pure. but in the few hours since i woke this morning, i have already been tainted.
all that changed this year was my temper. i am now always terribly angry.
why am i judged for wanting a husband? i don’t want to settle and have ten children, i just want someone who loves every bump, curve, and blemish of me.
today i watched a video from my ring camera of you smashing my potted plants. the ones you gave me.
i would much rather stay inside to do my skincare than go out and party all night. why does that make me a villain?