and you ask me how i am
so can i tell you how my throat
burns and how i want to smash
anything that comes too close to
me and how my mother’s words
hit me in the gut and my father’s
hand hits my heart and that my
eyes don’t see the beauty anymore
and my veins don’t pump blood
but they spew out venom of
boys who kiss me too hard and
girls who think i am horrible because
i probably am and you want to know
how i am well i can tell you that
i don’t know because how can i
tell you how i am doing when i don’t
even know who the hell i am
and where the fuck are you because
you aren’t even asking me how i am
you don’t even ask me anything
and i haven’t heard from you in
what seems like forever and i can’t
hear your voice in my mind and i can’t
feel your fingers on my neck or your
lips or what your hair feels like
or anything i just don’t know anything
and my whole body won’t stop shaking
and i haven’t stopped spinning since
your truck rolled while we were inside
and i don’t know why i didn’t fall out
or roll away after that but maybe i
should have and maybe i wanted to
and maybe none of this is right but
maybe none of this is even about
you anymore.
and people ask me how it feels
and i tell them it’s chapped lips in
winter and it’s the cold seeping into
your bones and shattering your skull
it’s the cement hitting you in the face
or the slap you feel inside the back
of your head when someone tells
you that they don’t love you anymore
and it hurts and it stings and it
swallows you whole until you cannot
see the outside world and even if you
do you can’t feel the beauty of it
and the sun will never feel warm again
and you will never feel love again
and every single fucking time someone
asks you how it feels you take a pretend
knife and slice through their question
because how do i explain to you
someone taking their hand and shoving
it through your chest and grasping
your heart with all the strength they have
and tearing it out of your body when all
they told you they would do was put it back
together and i know how to explain it to you
so read very carefully and read very slowly
because it feels like death but you don’t die.
and i ask myself why i still love him
and how can i still love him when he left me
for her and when he left me with unanswered
questions and cut strings and why do i still
love somebody who isn’t there anymore or
maybe someone who never was there to begin
with and the answer is i don’t know and i want
someone to take my hand and lead me to the
answer and i want to hate him and smack him
and i want him to feel the pain and i want
someone to ask him how it feels to have his
chest ripped open and i want to stop loving
him and i want to start loving myself and i do
not know how to explain love to young girls and
boys who have years of innocence tied to the
back of a wagon that they carry so close to their
hearts and i want to put myself in a hole and cover
myself with wild flowers and be surrounded by
the smell of beauty and the smell of love and
then maybe i will feel it and i will believe it and i
will love myself and i won’t love him and love will
be a new word to my vocabulary it will start fresh
and new and it won’t hurt anymore and i don’t
know why i still love him and maybe i always will
or maybe i never did and maybe one day i will stand
up and pick myself up off the dirt and pick the petals
off of the flowers the way you picked our memories
off of your brain.
vaporwave
kaledo-art
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
blakekathryn
discoholicmusic
germansingergirl
