azkacee

[azkacee]

capitalism of education and careers has forced everyone to hyper specialise to the point we forget it is possible for humanities and science to be the same thing and this is why no subject can satisfy me - i will only do neurosciences if i can link philosophy with it, i will only study literature if i can tie psychology into it and i will only apply medicine when i have to use my humanity to do so

[azkacee]

i won't ever apologise for loving the idea of you, because my idea of you is subjective and changing and beautifully wispy around the edges and growing. it grows with every memory and every conversation and every time i remember and remember and remember. it is material and it is vague and there is colours and weathers and shapes and feelings that are yours and my heart is so full of them it must belong to you.

[azkacee]

i should tell you every media product i like and let it sink in and pollute your opinion of me like the ragged dirt outline rain leaves on car windows

[azkacee]

my head hurts but so dully its just the hum of pondering too hard

it gnaws from my heart to my hands like ugly overflowing maggots

and rots the passion i once had

rings of mascara fade into my pillow

growing a line for each day  

like a tree 

i peel away at my mummified skin and stew in the same air of my abandoned room for weeks

i push it in and out like an overworked machine slowly 

letting my cogs rust over with decay and blood

and with each raggedy breath

over and over

i die

[azkacee]

when we fight the thread finds me first

she winds my throat tight

pressing my ribs to silence

words flaring red-hot on my tongue

when we have turned on each other too much

right and left and wrong and in-between

the thread winds sharp as wire

blanching my skin

stitching my hopes shut

she snakes from your heart to mine

so when your hands lift to your eyes

or press to your head

mine are pulled to comfort you

but when we love she is gentle

like a cat born of rubies

she sneaks behind your ears

drawing my fingers to your hair

and curls around me

inviting your head onto my shoulder

she is tight and unyielding

a force older than breath or bone

but with every tug i remember

fate only knots what is meant to hold

[azkacee]

every time i think of her my stomach lurches in the same tentative steps i take towards her door and bubbles of air topple from my mouth with just enough weight and volume to form the words i mean to say, but they all seem to fall flat before my eyes with a grotesque pop and all that's left is the acidic sting of fear lining my insides

[azkacee]

even when i feel empty, i am full of it

[azkacee]

you unlock my love. when you're a child you see people say "you're my everything" and "my heart is yours" and as you grow up these phrases feel vague and default and someone else's confession and it is never known until it becomes yours. the words feel like pre-packaged endearment and meaningless until they are yours. it is when you twist and turn and elongate your words to sound personalised from your soul and all that comes out is "meant to be" that you realise what love is.

[azkacee]

peace is nonexistent - didn't you learn that as a child when you decided to be quiet for once to see if you could hear the monster underneath the bed but all that spoke back was your own mind?

[azkacee]

i will forever be trying to explain that soul-deep telepathy that goes beyond the same words at the same time and bleeds into the way i get a call from you when im crying and the way you text me when i start to doubt whether you like me at all and the way i can sit across from you or next to you or look in your eyes or look away and you just know and before you can tell me you do, the "i know you know" spills from my laugh and my eyes and my mind and i curse you for being the most fluent in me