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[courteousmayhem]

And most of these days I feel as if I am constantly on the brink of

fading right away into nothingness - a wisp of smoke disappearing into

the air. 

I constantly talk about choking, how it feels like two thick hands are pressed tightly around my collarbones pushing inwards, pushing down

so i lost myself again last night, she took over

And I’m left reaching out in the darkness. alone. waiting. 

this is the brink of desperation.

[courteousmayhem]

I hope every time you smell freshly roasted coffee you think of me

every time a sunflower catches your eyes

and you look up at the trees

where the light drapes so perfectly, the moon shakes her head

disapprovingly - There isn’t always a real reason, see?

that’s the contradicting beauty of these lives we lead - so fierce

and so fleeting. just like the seasons.

[aphelionbruise]

glitter fell over everything in the dream. i mean it, we couldn’t move without sparking and sparkling. i ran for the lake & the moon was high & i said something cruel and untrue to keep my voice from cracking & my hands stretched and flexed and reached for nothing. there was something in the water, which is to say my heart. 

[aphelionbruise]

in which i ask for things i cannot ask for // alm

[bandaidsfortheheart]

Okay so it was cold.

But look at you.

You’ve still got 

your fingers and toes.

Unclench your teeth, dear.

Your skin is thicker

than it feels right now.

You’ve always known

how to build a fire

in your own bones.

[courteousmayhem]

i don’t want to do this anymore. i want to rip myself out of my own skin to try and find something worth the salvage. i am consumed with the grief of having to live another day. if i were to put a mirror up to my person all i taste is bile - revulsion. a poor excuse of a human stumbling and drooling on the outskirts of all good.

[lucimoody-blog]

Green Guts

Brain full of slime

Body slowed by bile

Clothes dripping with grime

Like it’s going out of style.

I bleed onto the page

My stress leads me astray

And as night turns to day

I reek more and more like an ashtray

[courteousmayhem]

just a girl

You are untouchable yet your fingers reach out to brush over the world that is yours. Ownership comes easy to those who have not yet learnt the meaning of “no”. Under your gaze there is no women, only girls. Under your gaze the girls belong to you. You deserve them. You’re a good person, right?

Your desire is a lasso, roping in the next victim, an undeniable and inevitable pull.

You want it. Don’t they want it too? Your desire is a noose around my neck, roping me in like a horse to be broken. My body is frozen. You press yourself into me. Your weight crushing. We are two vehicles on a freeway, crashing. No it is not a collision, it is a truck plummeting into a parked car. Your tyres leave burnt rubber on the tarmac. Your fingers crush velvet blue across my collar bone. I am no longer living. No, I am just a girl. And you, you are such a nice guy. So I should thank you, right?

[courteousmayhem]

I bought my best friend a pair of earrings because she hurt my feelings I guess I know it isn’t worth winning a fight to lose the right to call her mine.

I remember sitting on her back porch as the sun rose Wishing I could undo the past. I am so proud of her growth This past year she has slowly become my idol Somehow, we went from bathroom floors of cheap bars, to the stages. I will love her through all of her phases.

So here I am, giving in with the gift of these earrings, they are the shape of forgiveness. - Friendship is more important than my pride. I guess this is growing up?

[courteousmayhem]

Our misery was a bridge between two Vessels A tunnel weaving beneath oceans to unify one country to the next In the car my hand rests on the back of your neck we can’t catch the hail where it lands my fingers are purple from the cold your cheeks stained primrose the wind echoes goodbye The taste of your tongue an apology Your bloodied lips the only way to say sorry.

[northernwinedregs]

APRIL 05

the past is a fucking liar with nicotine teeth and a salesman’s smile who paints a perfect portrait of what has come before

brand new, this astonishing thinness on offer, that constant stable barely used, those lifeline friends special deal, these better selves

my dreams invite him in and show me the latest wave of everything I could’ve had if only, if only, if only

right here, this determined routine right here, this temporary loneliness right here, this dotted line right here, this self-defeatist

[courteousmayhem]

I often have these moments where everything within me becomes suddenly, and eerily, still. It is these moments when I feel I am an outsider to this world. An observer. Trying to decipher billions upon billions of disconnected events. Jamming puzzle pieces into gaps they cannot fit. Willing a coherent picture to be formed if I just think hard enough. Think.

[courteousmayhem]

He is four years older than me/ I can’t stifle his demons/ He wears white t-shirts now/ surrender/ guilt chokes me coiling her barbed wire hair taut against my cold neck/I need to remind her gently, persistently/his reactionary war-zone is not my territory/some trenches were never meant to be dug/his red eyes on the brekkie shift are mustard gas/I’ve never breathed so deep/smiling is torture/I cover myself in glue/another layer to shed/scuffed shoes/how do I begin to forgive me?

[courteousmayhem]

“Do you feel like you’re doing this all alone?” “I - I don’t know...” “I’m just trying to understand what you’re feeling.” “I don’t know.” “Do you feel like you can’t think properly? You can’t remember feeling any different? You can’t imagine feeling happy again?” “Yeah, I guess.” I feel like whenever somebody asks me any kind of question my entire body seizes up. My throat constantly feels like it is closing in on itself. My head starts pounding, it feels like it’s swimming. I feel like I’m drowning. I can’t remember things properly. Entire experiences feel like they belong to someone else’s life. I think I used to want things once. I think I had ambition. Maybe felt passionate? I don’t feel like a person anymore. I couldn’t tell you one unique fact about me. I couldn’t tell you what I live for. I’m just doing it. And yes, I feel alone.  I feel so fucking alone.

[courteousmayhem]

No one told me my twenties were going to be this hard. I feel like every day I find a new way to break. We are all such fuck ups.

[courteousmayhem]

The first thing I saw when I woke up this morning was a rainbow. The first thing I felt was relief. Finally. I had clenched every muscle of my body for weeks, holding my breath. Hearing of vandalised houses, and how scary it is to be gay. Marches and badges, posters and ballots. These are the pleasantries of the real fight. The people who voted "No" in my country equate to the entire population of New Zealand. That terrifies me. Enrages me. But parts of me didn't expect Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Finally. A victory for love.

[courteousmayhem]

Romance in a parallel universe In his mind I am the scholar, the teacher, his charmingly witty 'sex-bomb' always two steps ahead. In my reality I am dragging behind, a limp limb. Trailing through the dirt. Broken. He tells me I make him happy, My response is dripping with sarcasm. My words, careless razors, clip his face daily. Each fibre of me is a clanging pot in a crowded kitchen, hot chaos. I am lashing out and caving in. But everything he sees is beautiful.  Some days I think it is worth it, just to see him smile like that. Like he really believes in happiness. He tells me the only future he can see has me in it. My future is like the Easter Bunny, or Father Christmas. Which is to say, I used to believe in it, one time I swore I saw Santa's boot disappearing through the doorway. I used to put cookies out, carrots for the reindeer. Rudolph's nose stained the bottom of our bucket red. I cried when I turned 21. Every day is just another 24 hours to get through. I am working on wanting some kind of future. But when he said that, I cried too.  In his universe we are The Future.  His world is desire.  Mine, right now, is survival.