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My Gatsby Project

is going through all the old entries I wrote (the ones I didn’t burn) and posting them here under the tag #gatsby. The first post I put here explains why I’m calling it Gatsby, no offense to F. Scott Fitzgerald.

There are a few different Gatsbys I’ve encountered; I don’t feel the need to distinguish them from each other. All of them are in my graveyard of acquaintances; I don’t feel the need to upkeep their tombstones. They are the Gatsbys, and that way they will stay. 

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Your smell Of vanilla and laundry soap Lingered long after You were gone from my arms

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We are slaves to the gods, whatever gods are.

10:15 AM

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I have thought about you every night since we've met

1:40 AM

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You ruin my life, every day

1:46 AM

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You make me feel special, I hope I make you feel special too.

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Are we a romance novel? Is this the 3/4 breakdown where everything backpedals before the big resolution and the happy ending?

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There you stand, watering the tree that holds the noose around your neck

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They used to build statues of you Gilded and bronzed, chryselephantine Used to show you walking The way you used to walk to me

And then you burned down Got fissures and cracks Amputated, mutilated Lost your color

Now I am left with an empty void The blank white where your Red used to be

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"What are we?"

Do we have to be anything?

Is everything something?

Or can things simply be?

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His voice hangs in the space between my shoulder and his

11:18 PM

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Maybe "forever" wasn’t supposed to last with you. Maybe it's something I’m supposed to carry with me after we part ways, after we fade away from each other. Maybe I’m not meant to be with you, maybe I’m just meant to be changed by you.

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Version II

I'm glad I never complimented him I'm glad I never let him know how deeply and truly I felt I'm glad he never heard the words escape my lips Hanging in the air Waiting for him to pick them up and do something with them I’m glad I never gave him the ammunition to wound me Glad I never let him have that part of me that loved so rawly That wanted nothing more than him, bared to me, unconditionally I'm glad I never complimented him because I don't want him to think of me forever I want to be free of him I want to be divorced, divided, existing on a different plane I want to forget about him

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Version I

I'm glad I never complimented you I'm glad I never let you know how deeply and truly I felt I'm glad you never heard the words escape my lips Hanging in the air Waiting for you to pick them up and do something with them I’m glad I never gave you the ammunition to wound me Glad I never let you have that part of me that loved so rawly That wanted nothing more than you, bared to me, unconditionally I'm glad I never complimented you because I don't want you to think of me forever I want to be free of you I want to be divorced, divided, existing on a different plane I want to forget about you

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I have lived 1000 lives with you and I wish to live 1000 more

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The hearts in your eyes stopped beating And now when I look in them I see a reminder of everything we aren't I see the carcass of our love Am I a scavenger? Will I pick you to the bone?

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What else should I think of if not her?