[everythingunravels]

10/5/2017 I have been waiting and it's not fair to you not fair to me to keep me here like this. I've lost hours and drinks and songs and sadness to you. my sadness used to be mine, please don't make it about you. it's about me being exhausted with you - you have never let me sleep. I look for the right words, is that why I write so much? you never gave me the time to speak up. I hear your voice everywhere over and over. did I ever say anything? I never noticed, while sitting in the dark of a number of bars with you. I can't even apologize for the way you treated me; I can't hear that in your voice. I only hear my own: whispering begging, hoping for a friend to accept the forgiveness he never wanted, was it an obligation for him to ask? what are friends for? there are a lot of things I don't believe in, but I believed in you. that hurts more than I can believe. I don't hear "I miss you" in my own voice anymore. it's faded away months pass and days happen and weeks pass and a day happens and days pass and nothing happens. I've gone away like you.

[everythingunravels]

9/18/2017 gone are the days i would wait for you i wait for anything and lived for everything. what do i have to show for this? my forgiveness is easy: it's warm. inviting. friendly. not at all hard or fake; anger is cold. it leaves blisters on my lungs. knives in my fingertips, i cut away what i don't like until you can see me again. until anyone can feel me again. anger freezes and cracks until i crack and apologize. let me be warm.

[everythingunravels]

9/18/2017 it's strange how quickly anything changes let alone how fast i can change. curled up and laying at my own feet, it feels slow and painful bubbling up, but never burning out. always running on fire, a deep glowing heat everyone forced to feel leaving a trail of smoke through the sky so thick and recognizable, can anyone breathe? breath is not something i know well, in a fit of constant singing or frequent anger or consistent laughing, who has the time? curled up and laying at my own feet, i try to remain the same

[everythingunravels]

9/13/2017 each floorboard creaks with reasoning, excuses scrawled in pencil across the cracks. "it's okay that you don't want to go you can stay here." "it's fine to live here" "because he left" "because you're sad" "because you're alone?" "because you're losing;" what am i losing, again? the dust gathers on my skin cobwebs collect in my thoughts quiet sticks to my fingertips and i sink further into the shadows of the furniture and the curtains. light leaks through, i contemplate looking at the sky. waiting to begin i shout to the window for someone! anyone! no one to come home. no one has found a home in me. they will skip by me every so often; grabbing my hand and pushing my waist while throwing me as high as they can, until i come back down. "oh, she can't fly." they're gone before i land. no one can look up to me from down here. sometimes i miss the hand, sometimes i miss the air sometimes i miss the closeness to the sky or to them to crashing into the ground. but the fear of staying isn't worth it. i like my cobwebs and quiet. i'll write on the next floorboard

[everythingunravels]

8/30/2017 i live above myself in the building down the road. before that, i lived diagonally across the street. i loved the small rooms and the big windows, the way my feet felt on the pavement; the way my heart felt on the floor. i burned it down one evening mid-summer. i live below myself in the building up the road. before that, i lived in my head on a cloud in the morning; it was always morning - crisp and early and sleepy. darkness knocked on the window only for night. i would glance! they would shimmer! i loved the distance. i live with myself day in and day out. i try to be kind and caring, but my bed is cold and careless. my walls are bare and i cover the floor with memories i try to return. i will return them to you if you asked, but i know you don't want them either. i wouldn't want me either after burning.

[everythingunravels]

7/20/2017 i’m always cold, frozen in time and temperature, maybe this is why you are constantly burning me; you need your heat to escape so you can remain numb? why do i hold on, i know i should let go. your voice echoes deep inside my dreams and my bones. i break both to offer you the pieces of me you asked to see, to have; the pieces you craved. i’m left with a puzzle i know by heart. i longed for closeness, two years felt close. though i loved the distance - far enough away so the pressure was light, close enough that my words could mean something to you, perfect until it wasn’t. i can still feel your arm heavy over my ribs; your chin, scratching my shoulder i can still see your eyes, happy and caring and warm. perfect until it wasn’t (have we always been scared?) i felt the change looming in the blankets and on the tv the buzzing of the light in the middle of the night and in the strokes on my back when your face shifted and you started. i felt it in your voice laying it on brick by brick, shutting me out. the aversion of eye contact, of skin contact. from the last first kiss that night, to the rushed goodbye in the morning. i’ll keep my thoughts to myself, they mean too much to me anyway. we protect ourselves in different ways, at the same time. for the same reason. maybe someday we will let ourselves be forgiven.

[everythingunravels]

6/8/2017 i keep quiet, because if i open everyone will know. i'll scream it to the sky, from the clouds and it will pour down in light. it lights me on fire every time. are you burning with me?

[everythingunravels]

5/3/2017 i can still feel your skin underneath my fingertips and i pretend the memory is not soft, not warm. remembering your eyes above takes a courage i don't have and can't find but i see you at night, is that why i can't sleep? a pain long forgiven a silence renewed and yet i would do this all again given the chance. i look for you in all the off places wishing you to be closer look for me, too - i'm pleading with myself to let us be found let me be near.

[everythingunravels]

4/28/2017 am i moving too slow? the world doesn’t seem to stop just because my house is burning. am i running too fast? escaping down neighboring pathways i don’t want to drown in the ashes. it’s all a blur, my throat’s closing up i can still taste the fire i can still see the flames. lungs are heaving legs are collapsing i’m too hot to leave still too cold to burn. i’ll lay and wait, but when can i ask you to come home?

[everythingunravels]

4/21/2017 i don't stand with arms outstretched my hands are in pockets - holding my legs still, my thighs together i'd come for you, though i'm not there yet. slouching to the wall melting to the floor i don't know how to separate my hands from my legs when it's my turn. so i live like this. when you come for me - miles and minutes - you leave fingerprints on my face and scratches down my collarbone there are blisters on palms from the heat radiating off of your cheeks while you whisper into pockets to let go but my hands don't flinch even when i want to.

[everythingunravels]

4/19/2017 'i want to be there i want to be there' i hear myself scream before i can say 'fucking ask me to be and i will drop everything' we drop the subject instead. was it me? was it you? we pretend but the idea nestles between us, 300 miles to stretch. we tiptoe beside it, never offering coffee or tea. i long to look out my window and see you pulling in and yet, i settle for your name on my phone then again in a message i can't bring myself to delete, your voice sighs 'i wish you were here.' i could be, if you asked. i grasp at daydreams of you not quite rescuing me from my loneliness, but adding to the hatred and love i feel for myself feel for you. i run to the sounds of sadness in circles, both metaphorical and physical. i glance for you in every song i hear and every shot i take. i cry when i'm drunk (it's always over you) i never remember in the morning just as you don't remember every. single time that you said. you are in love with me. did i ever tell you i said it back? i would. if you asked. there are things to let go of and things to hold on to; i am holding on for dear life. i can't bear losing. this. i am willing to drop the lingering doubt. still i am hopeful for so much more. i am ready to do so many things, if you ask.

[everythingunravels]

4/5/2017 my heart breaks on a loop - i have been running this same track in circles for three years; i want to run in the woods, i want to walk in the city, i want to swim in the ocean and stare up at the sky. there is so much depth here yet you remain shallow. my fingertips graze your waves, my hands grasp at your clouds, but i want stillness. i want crystal clear sentiments of apologies and comfort and love. i would hold out my hand, though i know you won’t come. we can't reach love by running on this track; you can't hear me when i'm this far back i'll go alone and yell i’m sorry.

[everythingunravels]

4/3/2017 i wrote about my sadness on a post-it note because i misplaced my journal it almost felt normal and messy it was too small, an ode to my voice without enough space to describe the idea of leaving you. i wrote about the tears in an email i saved it in the drafts folder, it’ll be forgotten in a few days. i wrote about dreams that i’ve had that you’ve had, that we shared and we loved. i wrote about the times we loved and we touched, emotion and skin in letters and texts never sent. i screamed about you into a shot of tequila. i cried about you on a couch. i sang about you in my car monday morning. imagining a different world in which life with you is possible.

[everythingunravels]

1/12/2017

if my bed was burning, i wouldn’t try to escape, i would relish the warmth and the potential to feel something different, become something new.

it’s not every day that your ashes grow trees, that the blood in your stomach grows vines - crawling and reaching for the words left to dry on your tongue

sleep now; don’t be scared of the flames second chances can spring from dust.

[everythingunravels]

12/22/2016 how many people are you? am i? can one be? how many lives are lived? i am different now, the years pass - and moments change, memories linger. february Tuesday trivia was when she received a message typical girl crying on the phone to a best friend in a bar bathroom CLICHE she loved you, so she replied "that’s my name! i’m glad you like it enough" maybe she should have asked you then, take me, too? but fear is prevalent while sleeping in cars. april - walletless but at a home mattress on the floor, a driveway for her car maybe drunkenly losing that money was okay because she had a home to move into; time falls into may, into warmth into a bar with a poisoned margarita into the woods on the side of a road into poisoned plants followed by illness and pain shame and sadness emotionally, physically. one day in june she showed up uninvited, a dream on her lips and whiskey in her blood she never apologized to you or your nonfeelings sorry to the city for sitting on that bench so long in all black contemplating going home because what would anyone think of this girl being in this city for you (i’m sorry to myself for being a nuisance) it was fateful october that brought her down deep into the cycle of sleeping and crying "you are my sweetest downfall" she sang, "i loved you first" she avoided with shots of vodka and whiskey sodas and fighting back the feelings. thoughts of dying appeared so fast how could she find the room to hide the sadness of missing your love? to hide the change in seasons, the change in feelings - and now back at the beginning - time moves fast, why don’t i move forward? why don’t i speak of love when it’s felt: why didn’t she ask, “take me, too?” how many people can i be?

[everythingunravels]

10/26/2016 i wrote you a letter while drowning myself in whiskey and lemons i couldn’t slice it, the skin so thick it wouldn’t let me in but the letter was sad. almost a happy sad, i wrote of love and of friendship and of wishes for us to remain in something at most? at least? it filled my heart with dread and longing / it filled my glass with ice and alcohol and soda rings along the table ringing on the phone ring on my keys asking to drive far away from here i can’t send the letter now - losing in confidence and winning in doubt i take distance, rest, tears, anxiety, the smiling sadness as a sign, a sign that i must remain quiet and hold it all in strip me of doubt, and take care of the letter. i’ll tell you where it is if you ask

[everythingunravels]

10/3/2016 please don’t come back; how can I stop you? i have longed for this i wished and ran and cheered crying for days over plates of onions and cups of vodka ocean waves carrying my wishes to the bottom, do you think the ocean floor will be as welcoming as my living room floor? cold and wet from spilled drinks and darkness laughing at the stains on the bottoms of my socks. it never came. so don’t come back. in your safe and silly and caring glory, you are not wanted here anymore. inviting you to me will always be my most wonderful mistake draped in alcohol and clouded by daydream lessons can be hidden by judgement and clamor. the air is more crisp now than the words you used to try to light the pathway for me - i am dark and the sky is dark the air is cold, it’s not february anymore, it’s time to leave. you’re not warm! you never were! how can you be warm when you’re not here? i can’t feel it, i can’t feel you, i can’t stop you from trying - i stayed the same, you were writing me differently, i stayed. please don’t come back, though i’d still ask that of you.