sitting outside on pavement
it's 5am i think
hotel blanket snuck out, wrapped around the three of us
the glass of milk to go with a slice of cake
anticipation running hot through my veins
reaching a peak
we aren't too far from the front of the line
looking for familiar numbers
point one out and you ask me what i mean
its his birthday, i say, but you still don't get it
it's okay i think in my head, because it's funny that i even care enough to see those numbers
these moments are nice
i know i'll miss them and i do all these years later
hurts to even think: it's been years
and yet in my dysfunctional brain it feels like it was just
yesterday? the day before?
i still remember the emptiness i felt on the flight back
i'm in my car going 45 mph, maybe sometimes 50 mph
5 over the speed limit when i feel like i want to take a little risk
maybe i'm too careful but whatever
i'm on my way to your house and we're going to
watch a movie, have dinner, laugh at the dumb joke i make that night and then i get into my car again at say...
10, 11, 12, 1am
mom called me 2 hours ago asking when i'd come home
she sounded mad and i felt bad that i was here with you
and not at home with her
but it was okay because i'd rather be there with you
than home fighting with her and feeling worse,
you'd think i'd be scared driving home at 1am
but the scariest part was always the walk from your door to my car those few moments in the darkness, silence
opening my door and getting in to the thought
of every possible thing going wrong;
whatever cd in the stereo playing super loud
to distract me from how alone i was in my car
i cried alot on those drives home
i laugh when i think about how she cried that first day we stepped into my then college dorm
it was empty, just two beds on opposite sides of the room
but she cried
maybe my life flashing through her mind,
from when i fit into her two hands to that moment,
standing across the room from her,
a whole lifetime ahead of me
but it makes me laugh and i must be a very mean person
because i just want to go back to that moment and grab her by the shoulders
shake her and scream in her face
you ruined this you did you fucking ruined this
just makes me laugh and laugh and laugh until i'm crying sobbing
headache biting at my temples
remember when we used to sit on that swinging bench outside of our dorm
and just watch the people walk by
talk about any and every thing
i still rmbr this big fluffy white dog we saw that made you smile so hard
and i miss that and i miss you and i miss the me that was watching you and everyone else walk by us
moments like that you cant help but take for granted
how would we ever know those moments, those experiences, those chances at closeness and experiencing the world through our shared lens would ever slip through our fingers the way it did?
i miss those swinging benches.
miss when we'd be out there in the middle of the day, sun shining through the leaves of the trees
when we'd be out there after dinner, everyone else done with classes milling around voices filling the air
when we'd be out there in the chilled damp of night, staring out into the darkness and talking and talking and just talking
sometimes because we had things to say other times just to hear the voice of another close to fill that longing that comes with the looming end of youth as we know it
i miss the me that knew you then, the way she did. the way i'll never get back
(home 1) you’re home. you’re home away from home. you’re home, even when i’m millions of miles away, if i ever am. you’re home even though i have yet to step through the door and be with you. you’re home, you are warmth, you are comfort. you are the one place where there are no fronts, no masks, no lies. you are happiness and sadness and anger and love and hate and everything that i wish i could be. i am yours. i am yours now, and 50 years down the road when i have long been settled into places i do not feel for as much as i feel for you.
(home 2) i hope no one attempts to find a home in me because i will never be able to return that for them. i am closed doors, boarded up windows, locked gates. i have been abandoned in my search for your light. i am trapped in you. i am trapped in this cold empty space, and for what it’s worth, or will be worth one day, i hope i can be happy with this.
-maybe love is not for me in this life. but i am not promised any more am i? so, as much as i don't want it to, as futile and stupid as it feels, it hurts me so much. makes me breathless. makes me wish i was 21 again so that the world could end like it was supposed to.
-i'll let you go. i'll let it all go one day and be so free that i do not know what to do with myself.
-"can't kill myself until i finish knitting this" sweater; set aside for a later date
-i should have k*ll*d myself on July 10th, 2014.
am i too old to be single
am i ugly and undesirable and just want to feel like i'm worth something
do i just need something to occupy my thoughts with
did i wake up from a dream where i was in love and had a baby with you and i miss that baby so much even thought it wasn't real and i've been reading too much about how grandparents see their grandchildren as a second chance at loving their own kids again and i'm so sad at the prospect of how me never wanting to have kids will take that away from my parents
am i utterly terrible at moving on from places where i do not belong
that one writing that's like 'every version of me still lives inside; my 24, 21, 18, 15, 10... year old selves are all still there". whenever this manifests i get a little winded. she's in there. and she's using everything in her to claw her way out. my insides are in tatters, but i guess my rib cage is strong enough to cage her in. 24 year old me is running away, and i think she will be forever. running through my blood vessels, looking for escape, but she cannot find it. she's stuck. an endless loop. vessel to lungs to heart to vessel to vessel and so on. 21 year old me is the hardest to deal with, i think. she's everywhere, but mostly she's the shiver up my spine, the ugly snarl in the back of my brain at an inconvenience, especially one of my own fault. she starts a chant, a prescription: kill yourself. kill yourself. do it for me. do it like i should have done it. do it do it do it. she's relentless, and sometimes i want her free to wreak her havoc. feel like she deserves the chance, after everything. 18 year old me. i pity her the most. it was not her fault. but i blame her, for everything. she didn't know. but i blame her, for everything. and i will atone for her misdeeds for the rest of my life. but she didn't know any better. she didn't know. 15 year old me hides in the scars scattered along my wrist, her own creation. i let her stay there. a faded collection of lines. she clings to them like i did the monkey bars when i was a child. i let her swing from one to the next, as i stroke each one with my finger. i'll end this long, useless paragraph with my 10 year old self. she is sitting on my shoulders. she is on top of the world. and i pray she never looks down to see me cracking and breaking, crying and screaming. i want her to last forever. sitting atop this horrible world i have built for myself.
i meet my younger self for coffee
we are both strangers to one another
who i am is not even a possibility in her mind
and she's slipping through my fingers, disappearing
she orders an iced white bookstack
i order an americano. it remains untouched
she just came from her 8am that she barely stayed awake during
i'm on vacation from work, so i have time to spare. she'll have to leave soon for lunch with rachel, and i almost ask to take her place
i have so much i want to warn her about, but the words never leave my mouth
i let her speak, because more than anything, i want to relearn her.
she's going on and on about college and being away from home for the first time. i should tell her we never really go back for good, anyways. her silly infatuation with premed makes my stomach twist a little, a bitter taste in my mouth
she won't shut up about the boy she likes and i have a laugh. she's overbearing and makes me cringe, but i let her have this because it's the last glimpse of unadulterated, no-strings-attached happiness she'll get. i don't tell her that we never really find love and affection in that way that we so desperately want
i could tell her to dig her heels in and stand by any "no" she says in the future. choose her own happiness above all. above her family, her parents. nothing she does for others will ever matter more than what she can do for herself. they won't even care that you did it for them.
instead, i tell her that when she makes that one choice she will make in may 2017, to make it final. don't look back and don't be scared. just fucking swallow it all down and let it happen.
i'm back at the swinging bench
it's been 12 years
12 fucking years
fuck
i'm so desperately stuck in that time, those moments
and i fucking despise myself for it
there is no happiness in this life of regret and shame and nostalgia so deep it feels like a knife cutting up my insides
one day i will spill the blood and it will be the end and i will finally know peace-
-don't take that too seriously
i'm a coward lol
the shittiest thing about it is im back at the swinging bench
and you aren't there next to me
i'm sorry
dededos
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
areudirty
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