s Crambled

"before I go, do you  have anything you need to say?"
...
how do I start
whats the beginning of something you never tried to delve into yourself ?
something so significant yet so small it eats at everything you've done to secure yourself in a world so unbelievably chaotic
I cant start to think about anything without you crawling back into me
...
"its all or nothing"
...
"don't think that way"
...
"youre too late"
///
i was staying by myself
looking out the window made me feel so insignificant
it was a comforting feeling
...
you told me a thousand times
how could i want more?
you said you needed me
why would i want more?
...

bruises (2015)

She let herself fall deeper and deeper, even though she knew it would end in scraped knees and
bouts of anxiety that seemed to rip her ribs apart.
Although she knew her fate, she let his scent bore its way into her brain and linger, as if it was
made to torment her for these things that she said her “heart” made her do.
She let his hands roam across her body in a way only he could, almost making a map towards
their own demise.
She knew she would let him do it, because picturing herself alone made her feel a certain way
that could only be described as cold ice.
It almost seemed romantic, and sometimes she thought she was a martyr to this belief; sacrificing
her stability for hope that maybe it could last...at least until Christmas.
She knew it was coming, she knew it was coming, she knew it was coming...
When it did happen, it was as if her body had been plunged into freezing water, and she was
calling, calling, calling out for help.
Every time the sobs would overtake her body, she reminded herself it was her fault and she was
never enough for anything such as him because that’s how you’re supposed to think right?
Everything is her fault, her fault, her fault...
As the sunlight pooled onto her eyelashes every morning, her hands felt the dents in the mattress
that held the only thing she had left of him. It was the basis of their relationship after all.
Although she knew it would come, it still broke every bone in her body and the ship that sailed
the oceans in her lost its direction, becoming nothing but a drowning mess. Sinking, sinking,
sinking...
God she knew was only a small piece of the puzzle but to her he was the all of the parts
combined, fated to come apart after finally putting it together.
The aroma of the city left her as she ran and ran and ran to what she hoped was something she
could latch onto, and her feet hit the ground as she thought maybe she would tire herself to sleep,
as it had been so rare. The smooth, sticky air engulfed her and she remembered he once said that
pain was purely a primitive thing, wired into our bodies to make sure we were safe. She
wondered how this dull ache was a way of making her safe and laughed because she just always
knew it would come back to him, even at 4:30 in the morning in the middle of nowhere. Air
filled her lungs but didn’t seem to reach her brain as the dirt made contact with her skin. She sat
motionless biting her fingernails because to her that was the only constant left in her life and
repetition was something she needed, almost as badly as water.
She knew, she knew, she knew he would do this. She was drowning, drowning in regret and
hopelessness and abandonment and denial and...
…..but as always, she got up and walked back home.
Walked towards the lights of the city and sighed with the trees, because she knew this was it, and
maybe nothing got better.
But somehow she was okay with that…..

just tired

but it was not a lack of sleep
but a lack of hope
and happiness
that made her act the way she did

roads

I don't like the way smooth skin feels underneath my fingertips
It reminds me of a slow unwavering road.
I don't like when the sun gets in my eyes and you flood so vividly into my brain
as if you were the sunshine exploring my thoughts in the early morning.
I don't like the way my fingers sting at the end of the day
from the incessant picking that always leads to the taste of pennies in my mouth.
I don't like the way you always used to call me by my first name
when you knew it was something I grew to hate.
I used to love the feeling of my sheets tangled between my legs
but I don't like remembering that you were fond of the same thing.
I don't like going to supermarkets and remembering all your favorite foods
as if I was mourning someone who never truly loved me.
I don't like the way your name slides so easily across my tongue
but stings the roof of my mouth as if it were poison.
such a sweet poison

I dont like the way smooth skin feels underneath my fingertips
maybe that's why I liked the way our bodies intertwined so rigidly.

I cant remember a time when I didn't wake up early

and feel the sunlight pool onto my eyelashes.

I cant remember a time when I didn't bite my lip

when your name was mentioned.

I don't want to remember you ever being here

feeling the indent on the mattress only your body could make.

I cant remember a time when I saw headlights approach the car I occupied

and hoped they didn't stop.

2012