i feel so old sometimes. like i've lived serveral lifetimes.
and sometimes i feel so young,
but its been 6 weeks clean. of everything.
and i'm not sure how i feel.
last night.last night when you couldn't standlast night. by arabesque-o
when your head became a tilt-a-whirl and
you needed me to be your stability.
when for just a short while, i was your gravity
i realized i still wanted to be that to you.
i still wanted to be your wheelchair when we got old-
i still wanted to get old with you-
i still wanted you.
my inability to stay
is a knife my mind can't stop tying knots around.
seeing her again reminds me of how selfish i really am.
surviving after her means trying to forget what i did to her.
surviving right now means trying not to think about anything at all.
some memories will burn you
if you open them back up too soon.
i am a continent drifting apart,
i can't hold on to the pieces of me
but i know how to not show it.
seeing her again was like something i've never know before;
like broken bones and natural disasters
like trying to breath under water or
lungs like twin towers failing.
it was like a gut punch you won't recover from quickly.
she was thin as my
breakup poem. it took me so long to admit to myself andbreakup poem. by arabesque-o
that you can love someone and
still not be meant for each other.
but leaving her is like dropping a piano on your toe,
you did it
but you never expected it-
to hurt so much
you never expected the supernova in your chest when
you find her toothbrush in your bathroom and
you never meant to
overthinking.i think sometimes our heads are so fulloverthinking. by arabesque-o
that nothing comes out of our mouths
or the things we say come out all wrong
i think sometimes we love so many people
we forget to fall in love at all
our promises get so big and heavy they
curl back around to strangle us
if there is one thing i've learned in 19 years
its that people will always go back to their mistakes
like a dog revisiting its own vomit.
we love our self-destruction
and sometimes i think thats both beautiful and sad
but mostly just sad, like when
a star goes supernova or
a baby is born or
how fall is really just the leaves dying
its funny how sometimes there are people you care so much about
it hurts, and
you don't know if you wish you'd never not known them
or if you had never met them
because not caring will never be an option again
and you just hope they care about you at least a little bit
but i think caring the same isn't possible because
maybe everyone has different sized hearts
and some of our he
i.i'm all eat-to-muchi. by arabesque-o
all scars and never tears.
i am care-too-much
all question with no answer.
i am a contradiction
ask me, i will tell you i don't know.
i just don't know.
i am 3am and the heavy morning hours that suffocate
in that breath before dawn.
i am a fish with no urge to swim
a childhood memory of how things should've been, a broken bone reset.
a game over. try again?
i am all supernova when your lips are on mine. all confused,
all child-in-the-cookie-jar again. listen, maybe you are my guilty pleasure,
another addiction i can't stop.
because i am like lightning, i never know where i hit
i just fell in love with the ground, i never meant to hurt the ones i love.
i am all tell-too-much
i say too little when you need me to speak,
and too much when you need me to listen.
i don't know how to be myself without apology.
listen for my voice,
sometimes i lose it in the crowded spaces of my head.
but speak to m
Thoughts from BedlamI begin to mourn senselesslyThoughts from Bedlam by sense-and-stupidity
for things buried in the cracks in boxes
where I once stacked postcards and notebooks full of character-flaws.
A rotten film rolls beneath my finger:
particles of dust and the crumbling corpses of acorn maggots,
crumpled notes from middle school with love letters still fumbled between
"I slept on the school bus and had to walk half a mile back home.
It was raining and I was reading Fallout by that Hopkins lady;
I kept thinking that I liked her line breaks, and kept wondering
why the stars never eclipse like the sun."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"My mother wept because my sneakers were so muddy
and made me repeat our phone number until I could recite backwards.
I have yet to learn it forwards."
"That seems like a waste of a question…You can ask another…if you want."
"I wrote a poem. It's not really about you, just about life and pizza crusts
and how I never eat them in public because the sauce can get stuc