how did you get here? nobody's supposed to be here

"biography lends to death a new terror." - oscar wilde var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-12379324-2']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();

[anewterror]

@tarshabshaw @opalsandbanonos @childish-penguino @madroxxx102 @notsohostel @brainbyangel @a-band-freak-full-of-drugs @runningdrawing-blog @a-m-a-n-d-i-n-e @gayfacesgayplaces @parisienparadisiaque @jade-decent @ishouldbesleepingwastaken @the-fruitoflife @unluckywhitelighterss-blog @caterinagalanzino @whatelseshouldibe @pantone--292 @mtwi @flowerinmyhair @jasonalayne @backhomesportsgrill-blog @soyouwenttoschoolforsinging @worldofredness-blog @shitubou90-blog @hannahdidwhat @bloodvesselscontainingthese-blog @kellyjuanita-blog-blog @speakclearly @c-chl0e 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[anewterror]

@phototweak @bellesandwhistles @adrienneleach-blog @kerispaduka @dersandmann @oftalonsandteeth @boscio @ryanjameshitchcock @hellobeachgirls @specialk24 @travelwiggle @melmoona-blog @sarahwiller-blog @singersongwritermusic-blog @sillinessisbliss-blog @absolutelytones-blog @muchadoaboutnecromorphs-blog @thatjenkim @faimkillsdude @chinadeville @itserinwithane @austinimus @somewherebetweendreamsandreality @shineeonyoucrazydiamondd-blog @abaybayshayyy-blog @paperocean @reesemoore-blog @piranhaheart @ericslastchance-blog-blog @oneaboutyou-blog @ohhbobby @jessicadraven-blog 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[anewterror]

@tarshabshaw @opalsandbanonos @childish-penguino @madroxxx102 @notsohostel @brainbyangel @a-band-freak-full-of-drugs @runningdrawing-blog @a-m-a-n-d-i-n-e @gayfacesgayplaces @theatreghostcat @parisienparadisiaque @jade-decent @ishouldbesleepingwastaken @the-fruitoflife @unluckywhitelighterss-blog @caterinagalanzino @whatelseshouldibe @pantone--292 @mtwi @flowerinmyhair @jasonalayne @backhomesportsgrill-blog @soyouwenttoschoolforsinging @worldofredness-blog @shitubou90-blog @hannahdidwhat @bloodvesselscontainingthese-blog @kellyjuanita-blog-blog @speakclearly @c-chl0e @armsaroundthestere0 @deliamilongga-blog @satanreads-blog @alo-photos @thesaltandstamp @killer-dust-bunnies-blog @life-fi @mrbenwells-blog-blog @dope-ass-wiz-kid @ohyuhknow @explorenorth @codygriffith-blog @b0rn5lippy @thedoctorwillsaveme @withalotofheart @chaowsofia-blog-blog @bettyemerald @brownanon-blog @amyofaus 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[anewterror]

The one night of the year I could ask for it to be shorter, I’m gifted another hour.

It’s a slow and painful start, but a new chapter begins today. My Lyft driver said so.

[quiet-nymph]

[anewterror]

dried out

I thought that the worst of it was the screaming. The trepid dance around conversations that never go well but must happen anyway. The words that sting and keep coming back to you for months after they’ve been said. The crying in bed, the crying in the kitchen, the crying in the car. Then there’s the crying without crying, just that dried up cavernous pit behind your ribcage that presses against your heart when you breathe in and threatens to break it for good.

The worst is actually the acceptance, the resignation, the emptiness. He throws something and leaves. Calls me a new name or tells me to shut up. I thought he was water but he’s gasoline. I turn an old favorite movie on and try to remember how it ended.

[anewterror]

[anewterror]

All I wanted was to find my neighbor’s number. Over a year later and I still haven’t saved her number and now I need it. I search in my phone and there it is- an unrelated search result with your name on the recipient line. I ignore it.

I’m looking for pictures of ghosts to remember their faces better now that they’ve died. Like these pictures are going to remind me better of a story that will unlock some kind of hidden truth that will make things make more sense somehow. I didn’t find any- just a lot of old, unimportant memories. Pictures of painted nails, paisley print laundry, and a deck full of plants. Flooded alleys and summer mosquito bites on my ass. Some other kind of ghost.

I try not to think of you but I do- how do I not? What do I do with that? I don’t know what it is I’m feeling for, is it just bittersweet? Regret that I can never actually know how things would have been if I wasn’t such a constant hot mess? Not that it matters, I know. But, I feel a guilt in the pit of my stomach for even wondering what’s happened to these ghosts that are still alive somewhere because I have so much real warmth and love right here. I have so many good days but then there are some days when I wonder what kind of ghost I am, too. 

[asrinhuznu-deactivated20191114]

[anewterror]

[anewterror]

Why would you stay in a burning house?

Things won’t stop breaking. We mend things just to tear them again. You pile up all the beautiful things, all the lazy backyard afternoons and hands held out and foggy drives and bike rides and burned cookies and out of focus late morning smiles like it’s all you need. You find all the perfection to hold like it’s the only thing that matters, theres a moment of quietude and then it stings again, with a quiet refrain: it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

[anewterror]

[anewterror]

missing person

My heart is breaking into so many tiny fragments, it feels like a flood of small shards. You weren’t supposed to be the one I was afraid of being myself around. You weren’t supposed to take my skin and secrets and trust just for throwing knives at. You were supposed to be the exhale, the warm amber voice telling me it’s going to be okay, the arms I’d run to and the lap I lay my head on. You said you were a different person, and maybe then you were. I’m not sure where you’ve gone, but I sure as hell miss the you that made all those seaside promises like it was a given.

[anewterror]

six of cups

It’s not getting any better. There are knots in my throat where I used to sing.

What happened?

[wetmoon-deactivated20210620]

[anewterror]

[anewterror]

snowmelt

Months and months of ice. Diffused light, grayscale streets, freezing hands. I somehow let my tenderness thaw out as if I’ve been saving it for this specific winter. 

Everything looks so different now that it isn’t perpetually covered in snow. Irises I didn’t realize that had been planted throughout the yard of our home are beginning to crack through the soil, complete dormant strangers starting to stretch through the dirt as if all spring is, is a sleepy morning. 

We exchange a couple of distant looks over coffee in complete silence before you walk out the door and it empties me. We remain perfectly polite. All the things that you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to rearrange your habits from breaking the things that don’t seem right to just moving them to the windowsill, vulnerable and warm. I turn out the light with a single tug and pull the comforter up past my shoulders, feet uncovered and chest sinking. A single, heavy arm moves over my waist like a wave and its pleasant tide moves me closer to him. There’s an exhale on my back that reminds me that this is really love, and it’s much, much better than any of the irises or daffodils or tulips I could have imagined.