@bae-sickkk - Tumblr Blog

I just signed back into this. Are we all in therapy now or what?

bae-sickkk

“Being an artist means forever healing your own wounds and at the same time endlessly exposing them.”

— Annette Messager (via lazypacific)

Even if I begged

Was it that my knees hadn’t hit the ground?

Or that I did not idolize the “name” that cost more than my life?

Was it that we rushed this?

Or that maybe you thought you were able to do it and you fell short?

I have been wide eyed-unable to soundly sleep because I replay you over and over leaving.

And I wonder how many times I have to watch you go, in different bodies.

I have never begge a person to stay, so I tried to beg you

All my words were strung together in a sentence that sounded a whole lot like “if you’re going to leave at least say it’s because you’re done”

Me begging sounded like a challenge for you to leave.

Oh god do I know not to challenge you.

Only a chest cold

The first time a hand connected to my face,

I longed for your dark silhouette in my bed

Only knowing which way you face by the outline of your ear.

Don’t forget your jacket, it’s raining.

Just close your eyes it’ll be over before you know it.

Push me higher!

My brains trigger memories; an intruder that never tried to tip toe in.

I thought I remembered this happening before.

The personal invite (lost in the mail) to be the one that takes your time forever, you may kiss your bride.

And ten years later I still wake in a cold sweat to a soul who’s hands have held every hope I’ve ever had.

Keep out of reach of children

The limitless ones

Keep. Out. Of. Reach.

Dangle it. Make it unobtainable.

“It’s just a chest cold”

It takes time to ever really tell what the ending will be, doesn’t it?

Oh I’ve always hated waiting.

aureat

you know that feeling when you’re out in nature at 5 or 6am and everything’s still quiet and the air still smells like night time and it’s fresh so you shiver a bit but then slowly the first rays of sun peak over the edge of the earth and everything is bathed in foggy, golden light and you just stand there watching the earth awaken.. if that’s not soothing idk what is

Have you tried writing about it?

Well yes and no

I’ve pulled out paper and instead of collecting the words I should probably jot down- they fly seemingly farther away from this tip of this pen.

The things I once found solace in, now terrify me.

I’m finding more and more how backwards my skew on things have become lately.

It’s not a bad or perfect or even any emotional thing at all. It just is.