disconnected

mood: less than
Six:
You said that we’re all tied up and I’m wrapped around but we are not useless. I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever felt something so beautiful holding my body from head to toe. There were sun rays pressing onto my stomach and there was your breath at my neck and I just… I’ve never in my life wanted something more than right then because you had summer sky eyes and you had my ribs resting in your palms and you had my chin cupped and you had soft eager lips and we had something real. But we didn’t.



Seven:
My voice has never been so quiet and my heart has never been so loud but I still can’t feel it. You never knew what you did to me, you’ll never know.

half of everthing you are

You said that we’re all tied up and I’m wrapped around but we are not useless. I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever felt something so beautiful holding my body from head to toe. There were sun rays pressing onto my stomach and there was your breath at my neck and I just… I’ve never in my life wanted something more than right then because you had summer sky eyes and you had my ribs resting in your palms and you had my chin cupped and you had soft eager lips and we had something real. But we didn’t.

And that’s not everything. I am surrounded by people; I am being engulfed in a wake of silent limbs and aching bodies with mouths wider than a beating beach sunrise- but I am more alone than I have ever been in my entire life. My sister is there and she grabs my hand and I can see it but no, no I cannot feel it; I cannot feel anything.

i guess i'm not what you said i was.

I take back what I said

there is something.
I will regret you, I will regret you no matter how many times you change your name, I will regret: long days not of finding the sun because I didn’t think that I needed the warmth; breathing words my body ached and ached to mean into your ears; letting you press me, press me so much more than I’ve ever wanted to be pressed with you you you you you; thinking about summer sky eyes; thinking about scrawled ivory arms impatiently waiting around my waist; feeling like I can’t get close enough to you, because it’s been a week of lying restlessly on my grandmother’s carpet waiting for the phone to vibrate in my ready palm.

I hate you, I will always hate you, no matter how different your letters turn at a ‘sign here’ note, because even if they do, you will still be you- summer ocean eyes, lies tentatively resting upon clichés in your mouth, pale boney fingers, a pocket list titled “the many ways to make her ache”, and a collarbone stretched inconsiderately across your chest (skin spread over like thin thin icing).

(I have so much more to this letter, but I think that this is enough.)

the day after midnight

don't make me do this again
until the sun comes alive.

'cause i'm sick of bein' hurt, and
i'm just ready to be heard

there used to be a blue blue sky in my backyard,
and now there isn't a thing in your chest.

(i think that i need you, tonight)

oh sappy, sappy, pathetic thoughts.

baked sunshine

1. we could breathe,
and we couldn’t breathe
and you could crush my esophagus like
brittle bones
like
it’s supposed to be.

2. i’m sixteen with
forty seven cents in my pocket,
with empty cups everywhere i go
because i am empty
(everywhere i go)

3. sometimes there are wishes in the wind
and sometimes there are words in the wind
and i don’t think that i’ve ever
had this much of a problem with gravity
until right now
until i met you

4. can’t you dig just
another foot under,
because i want to breathe soil
because i don’t want to breathe
you

5. i can’t see you, but i can
i can feel you

6. your hands belong to
her, because i will never
fit in them just correctly
..., not in it, and not
it- not any part of
it
7. maybe we can
can borrow love,
after all, minutes make hours, and you
make me

8. my legs have
long white lies and lines
dancing on their flesh

my stomach has,
more room than it should
in my shirt

my head has
more aching
than necessary

9. there is nothing


but there has to be
anything

10. first you have to look at me,

then you can tell me goodbye.

the art of pretending

i wanted the moon once. i wanted to press it into my pocket, patting its depths and smiling when the sun went down. i wanted to keep it there, like spare change that you couldn’t give to a beggar because your mother always said that they would just buy cigarettes and they don’t need it. (so you dropped it on accident when she wasn’t looking.)

i just only wanted it to rest in my tiny pocket forever and sigh when the sun was spreading its rays across my body and i wanted it to breathe within me. but now i want it to swallow me, i want to disappear inside of its craters and i want to feel perfect and lost and now i don’t want it to live

if i’m not inside of its light.

(my hope is trapped within sun rays and it is bleeding in and out of the light, always falling out of reach now because i am distracted by something and i can lie to myself and say i do not need the sun because i don’t need its warmth, now. but i do, i do.)

one.

1. can't you feel anything, anymore?

[i will try to keep up, and start with new and now. (and better.)]