rot & honey

Stargazing to the abyss of fantasy

[laskareyne]

Seven Years | Feb 21, 2022

They said being a teenager would be fun You have so many opportunities; To make memories with the ones you love To make mistakes while you can still learn from them To still be young while seeing how the world works And best of all; You can experiment with boys, girls, whoever you fall in love with

But we all know what that means Kissing and loving isn't what teenagers do these days It's all about how, who, when, and where you can fuck somebody How many girls you've gotten How many dicks you've sucked It's become the norm To the point where you hear about it everywhere Everyone priding themselves in their numbers and "skills" Everyone has this drive for sex in their everyday lives Which means it must be normal for us as teenagers to experience it

Right?

Two years I've been with him Loving, caring, selfless, perfect him Where he doesn't care about what the rest do About the numbers, experience The act Those drives don't bother him, don't flood his mind like the rest

Which would be great If I knew it wasn't a bunch of bullshit

Because I see the yearn in his eyes Everyday hoping for me to give him more Give him what those in the past did What I in the past did Because dumb little me thought I would fit right in Be able to experience and feel what the rest did To satisfy him just like those in the past could Like she could

She's all I can compare to She's the only one I've heard stories about The one that I have to live up to in order to be at ease And feel like I'm worth something To feel like I can give what she could and feel like I'm enough

And I tried So damn hard For so long To long To push myself well over what I should've Just to give myself any worth And yet it all went to hell Because only a few months later it went crashing down The thoughts and fears pushed into the back of my mind flooded out Every memory every feeling Every touch It all came back

The memory of his hands touching me in places that are supposed to feel so good But made me sick to my stomach The memory of him whispering those damn words into my ear, encouraging me to keep going The memory of my brain screaming at me to stop To push him off and end it

But I stayed there Laying there under him Letting his body invade mine As it begged me to stop But I never listened I let it continue Months and months of abusing my own body My own mind Making it endure countless of sexual acts it never wanted One by one letting him taint every inch of skin until there was nothing left The memories Returning Each and every one Each of them bringing the feeling of being invaded with The thoughts flooding my mind as my body tingled in response Making me endure everything all over again Making me realize the pain and disgust my body felt during all those months Of me forcing it to do what it couldn't handle All because I couldn't bear the thought of being less than stupid her Thinking my entire worth depended on being able to give exactly what she was able to To be able to be just like her

But here I am now Feeling disconnected from my own body My own mind Because so much of me wants go back And do all those things again Satisfy you like I used to But all the rest is tired And I don't know how much I have left Because knowing that you need sexual satisfaction in your life And knowing that I can't give it to you without wanting to burn my own body for doing it Kills me

Every day as I sit here Wondering what the fuck is wrong with me Why can't I feel the same as everyone else Why the fuck do I have to be in this broken body That can't even handle satisfying my own god damn boyfriend Because every day I sit And the memories flood back And every day I relive them Clawing at my body Wanting to rip it to shreds Remove all the parts that were ever touched Remove the feeling Remove the thoughts Remove the memories

But I can't My body will stay tainted With the touch of your hands That should've never reachedAnd for seven years As I long for my body to be renewed For the very last cell that was around during that time To die and get replaced I long for a new body That was never touched Never invaded And how I long for a brain A mind A system of thought That can agree with itself That can agree with the body it controls And keep that new body safe From the hands of anyone else Seven years I'll wait

[laskareyne]

Same Cycle, New Context | December 14, 2025

I've been here before, Not this room but this feeling. Your laughter a hollow ring, Your "we're fine" hanging like a question mark.

One where I don't believe the answer.

We stand face to face, Yours being different than I've encountered, But the script was still borrowed. Hesitant hands, unspoken no. A yes out of obligation.

Their ghost resides in your silence, And I wonder. Do you swallow words instead of saying them? Agree to things you don't want? Do you too build resentment brick by brick, Until the wall grows so high I can't see you anymore.

I ask for honesty, And maybe you are giving it. But I fear the fine print, The "I'll pretend until I can't."

You were my friend, they were my almost. Yet you both wear the same smile. Is this endurance or choice?

Am I repeating history or recognizing it? Is this deja vu or just another version of the same wound?

Am I loving too loudly again, You listening too quietly, Until we both forget to speak at all?

[laskareyne]

Eleven Eleven | November 11, 2025

As the clock strikes the numbers, Meant to grant the deepest wishes at the tip of our tongues, Bring me my heaviest wish.

Stability and sanctuary with those I find dear, Those I find safe.

Him.

Make me a constellation in their sky.

I plead.

[laskareyne]

Holding My Breath | October 28, 2025

This new gravity has an old pull, And the orbit is starting to wobble, but I'm trying to keep it new. To not become an embodiment of guilt, Ruining the house of your peace.

We are friends. My happiness with this, Is a precarious thing.

I repeat it like a prayer, Over and over again, A spell designed to tame the hunger. But my fingers still trace the script, The remnants of past collapse.

I am the house my want resides in, Not even paying rent. Learning the floorplan of your every kindness, Comparing it to the blueprint of disaster.

I feel the words piling up, Unruly, desperate things they are. I know exactly how they can overwhelm a person, Turn care into obligation, A slow but heavy drown.

So I learn the shape of the container, How to keep the storms of this ocean inside, Without letting it spill over your floor. Practicing keeping these waves silent, Swallowing the questions that feel like falling.

I love you. Unfortunately, I'm trying so hard to do so from a safe, flat distance the map allows.

It's a fragile science. One misstep, And the whole experiment annihilates.

[laskareyne]

Guilt as a Houseguest | October 23, 2025

I had a plan I'd sketched in the light of summer: To be a temporary fixture, A friend who had an expiration date, One set vividly for autumn. I thought it would be a mercy, To spare you of my inevitable collapse, The dust from the wreckage of the war I'd just fled. I would be a pleasant, passing weather, Not a long-term climate you'd have to learn to survive.

But then you had to go and take me to Chicago, All skyline, steady light. All just "us." And suddenly my careful plan became paper, Shredded by the wind of a single, solid laugh.

But that guilt has come back, Not in a quiet slipping through the door, But it kicked the door down, shattering the windows. And now it's residing in the cavity of my chest, Suffocating me every time I try and breathe. It's a squatter, demanding rent in the currency of the texts I don't send anymore, The plans I refuse to suggest.

My instincts are screaming again, fighting each other. One: leave, disappear, hide You are a weight, a complication in a story you were never meant to be written into. It's unfair to him, to her, to the future you will poison. The other: stay, heal This is different, he isn't the ghost of your past. He's present, solid. He chooses, he listens, easily.

I exist here, an embodiment of that battlefield, Torn, trampled. And for the first time ever, Neither side is "correct." Both are just different shades of the same ache.

And this? My confession? It feels like a movie scene I'm too cynical to believe in. In the real world, emotion is a burden, Vulnerability a script for a dramatic, painful exit. I am terrified of the volume of my own storm, Of being the reason you decide to shut the shutters for good.

But then I remember, again, You're not a phantom. You are a person who cares without a contract, Who I've written lines and lines about in the most positive of light. So I'm choosing, maybe naively, to believe your air can hold my words.

But that doesn't mean you have to fix this. You aren't a savior, a saint. But maybe you could be the person who proves trust won't always be a prelude to a tragedy. Or maybe the cycle will repeat again, and I will have learned nothing. And if this is too much, just say the word. I am an expert at building silence. I can construct my own fortress. And I would rather that than become a burden you quietly resent.

So here I am, Leave the plan I formed at the start in ruins, Hoping, maybe this time you'll just see the person who stands in the wreckage, but not the debris.

[laskareyne]

Shaky Lines | October 14, 2025

We live under the same sky. You're in the city, I'm in this town. Same time zone, I guess, But completely different fucking worlds.

Your life is a blur of parties I've only seen in movies, Drinks with names I can't pronounce, Friends who know the version of you that laughs easily. You have a hand to hold in the dark, A body next to you that isn't haunted.

My life is a small town, Where everyone knows a lie about you. It's never touching alcohol because the strongest thing I've tasted is the blood from my own lips. It's not even knowing what a party is, Just this constant yet quiet yearning for something I can't even name, I can't even fathom the existence of. It's a need to control the chaos that resides in my own head, A need to know the steps before the music even starts.

So I need to know. When you finally stop moving, When the music dies down, and you look up at the stars...

Do you see me?

Am I a constellation you'll even consider, Or just a mess of shaky lines? A connect-the-dots picture drawn by a trembling child, Smudged with the ghosts of everything that's ever touched me. Is there a patch of sky left for someone who comes with a manual? Someone who needs trigger warnings and quiet nights?

Or maybe your constellations have already been drawn by someone else. Are all the lines of your life already connected, The picture finished, Not an ounce of space left for a new, broken line?

Or maybe it's even worse. Did I ruin the blank space you had saved before I even got there? Are the stars I try and use already tainted, Covered in the ashes of mistakes I've already made, The dust of my own panic, The fingerprints I left just trying so desperately to hold on?

I'm just here, Under the same sky. Waiting for some sign that you ever look up from your world, And notice that mine is even there, And that it isn't already collapsing.

[laskareyne]

Place Me Where You Want | October 2, 2025

To live in your shadow, Or just exist by your side? To find comfort in your touch, And be clingy beyond what's considered "right"? What boundaries exist in which I cannot cross, What "norms" am I unaware of? What am I allowed to do?

I've never liked one like you before, Someone so close, so personal, Yet not mine. Someone so trustworthy, who I'd protect with my life, Yet someone who belongs to another.

At what instance will my eyes of yearning seep into yours? At what point will my lies be dug up and you see the truth?

Will you run?

Is the fact I want you more than we are something to be scared of? Will you push me away, knowing I wish nothing more than to be a "forever" by your side?

Exist in your life or exist at a length that's "appropriate"? Can I do both without breaking the spell's seal? Without taking one step too close and falling off the edge? Where do you want me? Where will you even allow me to be?

So many questions, So many answers I don't have. Because it all relies on you, I will exist in any way you desire, But I can't know without you saying so, Without me asking.

And we both know I'm too terrified for that.

[callherwylder]

If my absence brings you peace,

let me fade away,

so you can hold that quiet.

[laskareyne]

Nothing, Actually | September 25, 2025

You look over, From the other side of the car, Or from beside me on the sidewalk. "What's on your mind?" Your voice, soft, sweet, A sound I'll never stop learning.

"Oh, nothing," I respond, Lying through my teeth exactly as perfected. If only you knew.

Nothing is the exact shape of your face against the blue light of your screen, Nothing is the ghost of your laugh from last night, Nothing is the gravity of your hand when it brushed mine for a second. Nothing is you, the planet I'm in perpetual orbit of.

My mind isn't empty, It's a room you just exited, Still vibrating, Air thick with the almost of your touch, The scent of your clothing, The echo of the stories from your childhood.

You smile, believing me, and turn to face ahead. Away from me, away from the lie I just said. I still look at you, Refusing to avert my gaze, And study what's in front of me. This, this is my everything. This quiet. This proximity. This terrifying yet gentle fall.

My "nothing" is the entire existence of you, The keeper of random facts, whose chaos feels like home, The one with endless stories, who turns simple moments into memories, The one who listens like it's easy.

It's the fear that if I speak it, this spell will break. That you'll notice the sheer volume and run. So I let the silence hang. A confession in itself, And I look forward too, away from you.

I am thinking of nothing. Nothing at all. Just the universe that exists, In the inches of space between us.

[laskareyne]

Three Strikes, You're Out | July 7, 2025

You had me at hello and killed me at goodbye Not even a smile or a wave as we parted ways But a sickening message not even bothering to give me the time of day You did it once, you said never again You did it twice, you said we’ll check in You did it three times and I cried to your mother

When will my pain be enough for you When will you be satisfied hurting me enough When will it check the box in your head The one that says “you have to do this for yourself” When will “for yourself” start meaning for your betterment Rather than just for your peace When will you face the pain with the intent to heal Rather than just push it down for tomorrow Or next week Or next year Or however long you can hold off before it bursts

When will I be worth you trying to be better When will I even be worth just one more conversation Will I ever even be worth just that one word you never said? Will I ever be worth “goodbye?”

[laskareyne]

Happy Birthday | August 27, 2025

And as the clock struck midnight, the chapter closed. You didn't pick up the pen to keep writing, But chose to willingly abandon the draft. Hell, you set our entire story on fire and watched it burn.

I wonder, as those seconds ticked by, If the countdown to this day felt like your doomsday. Do you even remember the significance? Or is the 27th once again just a normal day to you. Just like it was last year, when you also didn't care.

I spent the summer being erased, But this one hurt more, Because it was filled with promises you made, And words from your heart that you never even meant. Your promise that you'd do this one thing for me. And truthfully that makes me wonder if the story that happened even matters, Since we started and ended in the exact same spot. Strangers. But me still sitting here waiting for your name to pop up, To see you say the words I've always wanted on this wretched day.

But it's okay, because our story is over. This marks the end of Chapter You. And truthfully, I couldn't be happier. Because losing you meant I could welcome someone else, Someone who does remember, Someone who keeps their word, Who does listen to me Who does say that simple phrase I've yearned for.

And this morning, As the day begun after the ruins you left, They said it. Earnest. Simple. True.

"Happy Birthday."

[laskareyne]

Foot of the Bed | August 18, 2025

You keep your blinds open at night, Letting the moon map itself across the ceiling. I learn you in fragments, Starting with the tilt of your head, Then your laugh, Then your stupidity, Then your attraction. One by one, like you're a question mark made of flesh.

Four hours felt like the clock just dissolved. I stood, raw, confessional, You sat, listening like it was easy. Like my name wasn't a chore (Wow, the bare minimum feels like a sacrament) I told you about him, and the others. About the way men like to love in reverse, Treating my heart like a draft, Leaving sentences unfinished. Saved, never reopen. And your response? What the fuck? Said with your whole chest. You frowned as if the concept itself offended you. And for the first time, I felt believed Like my pain wasn't a burden.

But the truth? Fear still whispers in my ear. Sure, I want to be your friend. I want your voice in my life, Your stories, your god awful bed setup, The way you ask "what was that artist again?" As if the answer actually mattered. But history really is a ghost that won't leave. (Which you'd find fascinating, history nerd) It whispers: I'll ruin this too I'll want too much I'll bleed into something pure again, call it love. So instead I'll stand at the edge of this potential. Do I stay? Risk collapse? Or leave? Walk away before the wanting turns into another casualty.

I don't trust myself. Not to hold this lightly, Not to cling, Not to destroy it with my own hands. But god, the worst part? You'd forgive me for it. You'd laugh, say "you're fine," And I'd almost believe it. Because the way you remember things, The way I haunt the cooler just to ease your loneliness, It makes a girl reckless.

But the foot of your bed stays in the corner. The blinds stay open And I remain on the other side of the glass. Watching the moon touch everything I can't let myself yearn for.

(But let me dream just a little longer, in the light of your window)

[laskareyne]

This is Falling | August 1, 2025

The way he said my name, That beautiful tone wrapping around the word, Followed by the "you're fine" laced with honey. His laugh accompanying it, His smile making my brain go numb. Making the pain go numb.

For a moment there, the world felt soft again. Life was real, slow, beautiful. His glance turning my bones to liquid, Every jagged thing sanded by his voice.

This is falling, Not like a crush, but a heavy sigh. As if the stars slowly tilted, Aligning to his gaze.

I'd rewrite every law of gravity, Just to linger here.

[laskareyne]

Brand New You | July 30, 2025

There's this guy at work. Just a heartbeat older. Tall, ginger, always smiling. He laughs in a way that heals better than medicine, His head tilted back, Voice filling the air like a warm blanket.

I tease him with words as sharp as a paper cut, And he immediately stitches it shut with a laugh. "What? You're not a bitch, I genuinely find it funny" But I apologize anyways, Because old habits die begging, And I'm scared he's hiding the pain. Like you did.

He listens. Really listens. He catches the nods I don't voice, He remembers the briefest of stories I've told. The ones you'd forget before even looking away.

But I can't like him. First sin? He belongs to someone else. Second? It feels like digging up your grave, Just to plant the roses for someone else.

But isn't this what you wanted? You told me to move on, Find someone better, Someone happier, Someone who doesn't flinch at the sound of their name. So then why does my heart sink? My chest cracking like a dropped plate, Terrified at the thought of rewriting, Reforming our dictionary using someone else's handwriting.

I still wear your miss you by the way. It's like a bruise. I still flinch when the phone lights up, But it's filled with anyone but you. This isn't even betrayal, It's archaeology. I'm kneeling in the dirt, Brushing dust from your shadows. But still, I can't.

I still belong to you. I can't betray that. I can't betray you. I can't betray myself.

I'm sorry. I still love you.

[laskareyne]

Glass | July 27, 2025

I'm standing here, Still unchanged. A fixed point in your storm.

You had pressed your palms to the pane between us, Smudged it with stories I never wrote, Stories I never knew existed, Yet I screamed from the other side, The one that was clear. I screamed, voice raw with the truth you refused to hear.

Each and every lie, a brushstroke. Thick. Deliberate. Tainting what was once so transparent, Turning it into something fractured, coated in pain.

I watched the glass frost over, My reflection being warped by your hands. Watched it become a stranger you built from fear, Not from the friend who memorized the cadence of your laughter.

I couldn't even scrape away the distortions, Couldn't reach over to the other side, The place where you'd already decided I was the villain. I was the bad guy in a script I never even read. So I stand, silent now, Tracing the outline of what we were, The crystal clear picture before the stains set in.

Here's the clarity you had abandoned: I'm still me. You were the one who changed that, Who chose to paint the glass and call it protection.

What a joke.

[laskareyne]

I See It Now | July 18, 2025

I want nothing more than to be friends To be something Any connection with you I crave

But we can't

Well, Shouldn't.

I'm too much You can't handle it

The way I want to scream out for you But it'll fall silent to your deaf ears

The way I can't even explain my feelings yet Because I'm scared that once they're written I've just changed reality

And maybe I am holding on to a little hope

Is that so wrong?

[laskareyne]

The Last Script | July 6, 2025

You unplugged us like a nightlight, One flick of the wrist, plunged into darkness. No warning, no reason, just the hum of silence The void where your voice used to live.

You said call me, hear me, Said you miss the way my laughter stitches the sky. Then you buried me in your block list like a secret. A "sorry, it's out of necessity" that etches into my ribcage.

And I won't lie, do I ever in these words? I am a display of ache now. A full museum where each room is a shrine An exhibit of what if A room filled with mirrors that dare to say your name Dare to speak your existence without flinching. But I am not on my knees, Well, not anymore at least.

You build a cardboard version of me You fed it to your fears like kindling "She's Sierra 2.0, watch her demand your pulse, Watch her demand your minutes, your last bites of joy" But I am not her, I never will be. I asked for crumbs, not the whole bakery, Not the whole chain of supplies. Just a wobbling stool at the table of your life. Not even a throne.

Yet, you spun my anxiety into a braided leash, My love into a loaded gun. "Tell me when you hang out with friends," Not as a way to cage you But because you taught me, Showed me how easily my privacy became your anecdote. Remember when my name and face was painted across Discord? Oops It was Alex's fault I had to Funny how a simple slip left me drowning.

But in the end there's an autopsy report. You, my friend, are the master of later. Emotions? Shelf them. Consequences? Future you's problem.

You learned love as a sacrifice. She took your voice. Sierra. They burned at your truth. Carter. And now? You handed me the scalpel and said "fix me" Then ran when I got close to the wound.

But I see you darling. I breathe your existence. The way you flinch at reciprocity, Like my devotion is a debt you can never repay. "If I'm your closest friend, does that mean I owe you my oxygen?" No. Never. It means you need to breathe, fool. I never asked you to dissolve into me.

I'd let you wreck me a thousand times, Into a million other lifetimes, If it brought one honest sunrise between us. Not because I'm weak, But because I choose to. My choice. My heart. My right to walk into the storm that is you. And my eyes will remain wide open. You don't get to play martyr with my pain. You aren't allowed to say "I'm saving you from me" While you're the one who lit the match.

Need a script to follow? Need to be guided through what to do? Need me to hold your hand? Here it is darling. Here is the script, revised: I am not a villain. Not Sierra. Not your ghost. Just a girl who learned you like a foreign language. Truthfully, better than any foreign language I've tried. Yet only to be left toung-tied.

You want relief? Then take it. But don't you dare dress your retreat as a noble surrender. I'm still here. But I'm not begging, I refuse. But I will bleed, in bright, bold font.

And when you're ready, If you're ready, To stop combining love with loss, To stop painting me as the thief of your autonomy, Then my stool's still there.

Wobbly, But waiting.

Your turn.