massive shit stain

really good at dragon city, bad with feelings

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

i get sad in my room and i dont know why. i get sad in the kitchen and the shower and on the couch. i love my room, my soft bed and my books and the candles that smell like every home ive ever made myself sick inside of. soak incense into the walls to mark my territory, line up the crystals i dont believe in anymore.

im sad in my new house and i dont know why, i feel it soak into my skin when i walk through the door. i dont know why. i dont know why.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

birds and angels are both just things with wings

my lover could be a vulture if they wanted. how carefully they can pick through the wreckage and roadkill, practiced hands and jaw. work well beyond worth for just the promise of marrow, for the promise of something not yet wholly rotten. when we tell each other stale and calloused secrets, dont their eyes glitter like a scavenger? a salvager, homes made out of anything everything left behind. you and all your junkyard treasures, buttons, and macadamia shells.

or maybe they're a water bird, something stretched out and fragile. treading lightly through reeds, through marsh. on lily pad and algal bloom. the world can be delicate, if you let it be - and they do. if only you could talk to my love, you might understand. no man knows anger like they know gentle.

too smart for their own good, show me dark and shiny feathers and ill show you fear that sits perfectly still. everyone knows that they can hold grudges, but didnt you know that they can forgive? and forgive. oh forgive me, my love.

i love you with all my filth. heavy handed and clumsy, i love you sink right through and forget to call. i love you "i lost my keys, can you let me in?". i love with holes in my socks and knotty hair, i love you "i know i already asked, but can you tell me again?". i love you and i smashed your favourite drinking cup. you werent mad at me.

my love im sorry, i didnt mean it, it all just happens.

are your bones really hollow? is there still space for me inside?

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

i cant decide if i forgive you or if i want to hurt you. i like the idea of forgiving you but its so difficult when i dont know you anymore, ive given you enough forgiveness in this lifetime i think.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

there is a girl overdosing next to the dumpster behind a gay club. i find out she is only 18 while i shove my jacket between her head and the concrete. i try not to cry. her lips are blue. shes only 18. i dont want to scare her, shes only 18.

when the ambulance gets there i have to let go, they are taking her away. shes going to be alone when she wakes up. she wont remember me, or that i tried not to cry.

i wash her blood off my hands when i get home. afterwards, my knuckles are scratched and my knees are bruised. i keep crying. i wont let anyone kiss me.

i remember being 18, sometimes. i remember parts of it. living in a car, and then a house that was never empty. i was an addict back then. and still, i am an addict now. my mother is an addict too. there was a funeral last year for a cousin i never met, but her art is still in galleries across the country. i come from a long long line of us.

i dont mean to make it all about me. i dont want to cry, its not my turn. i got out, and i lived. i get to be alive, to find her.

she was probably just a girl who took the wrong pill, from the wrong person, on the wrong night. i wont find out. but my knees are still blue, and i cant make myself wash the jacket.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

loving someone who is going to die (before i do)

i wish i could love you less and i wish i believed that i couldnt help. that this was someone elses job, not my circus, not my mess to clean, not my friend dying in her bedroom.

but you text to say ur not sure if u will make it this time and i call an ambulance to come get you. i think about funerals and your little sister.

i am afraid i will watch you die. i am afraid i will watch you die.

im sober now and this is new to me and new to you. if id met you a little sooner maybe this wouldnt hurt so much. i tell you that we dont have the luxury of 'a little bit', or 'only sometimes'.

but i know you and i know your mind better than i know mine. i am brand new and reborn, but i lived in yours for years. it is hungry and never full, and you would sooner die than go without.

one day you wont call and ill know im too late. i will not know how to explain to your mother that i didnt help in a way that mattered.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

sex for secrets

i punish you for what you did to her. i'll eat you alive, i love her through the memories you spill on my pillow. she was a hungry little girl. can you taste the way that i hate you?

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

it used all my strength not to want you back.

im finally better im finally clean im finally happy and i want you to see it. this couldnt exist if you were watching, i know it. i want the apartment with the arches and i want to love someone who loves me and i wish it wasnt you.

you hated me at the end, in everything. so why did you stay?

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

in my dreams you no longer have a face. i see you in everyone i walk past, double takes so now my neck hurts when i wake up. what if i regret this forever?

i wish i was done with fighting this i wish id spent up all my love on you while i had you.

i wish i knew what you were thinking.

i wish i didnt still talk in 'I feel statements', trying to dodge bullets from you but i cant stop this habit that burrowed its way into my bones so when my girlfriend cries the world turns fragile.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

you dont love me anymore. you dont love me when i wake up in the morning and you dont love me while i sleep. i hate you all of the time, i hate you in the shower and i hate you while i brush my teeth. i hate you while im with my friends and at the movies and in class and at home and at a party full of people who hated you and at lunch with a girl who loves me more.

trying not to think about it never works it just ends up spilling out in other ways. being bitter doesnt suit me.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

sometimes its not even about the high, i just fall asleep lately anyway.

i woke up the other night choking, it didnt scare me. im medicated up to my eyelids and i dont even have an excuse. i spent my whole life blaming circumstance but i think the truth is that it just feels good, and i like to feel good.

it makes me selfish, and cold. it will keep me young, one day.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

friends make better emergency contacts anyway.

it hurts my body where it was supposed to be, you tell me you thought i was going to hate you. i did, i did, i did. i hated you in every room i walked into and with every breath i took, i hated you when i was kind and i hated you until i was cruel, and even then i hated you still. i threw up at the memory of it, the way it tasted to know you. to have been born from you.

the foot of the bed looks much taller from down here.

there was someone once, she smelled like vanilla incense, and eventually she lied just like you too. but she was too soft, and it buckled in on itself like a wet clay pot. i let the sound echo back and forth in that room for a few years before i let myself leave - did it change? did i?

noone has made me cry like you, noone ever could. do i look like im yours? please tell me i do - and people tell me i do. at funerals, mostly. your mother and i are sad like mirrors of each other - it skips a generation.

do you think that makes family real? ive been a non believer since the first time god made me bleed. it never sat quite right with me, it was always bitter on my tongue. but how can it mean nothing when i am everything you werent, when i live in spite of you - not without, not regardless. i am your most obvious creation, although you refuse to understand it.

youve always kept your internal world a secret. and you havent? i know you only through the things you mistakenly let slip, i know you through the doors you left open a crack. i was only a child when you first did that to me. i will never have children and i hope it hurts to hear it, i hope you know its because of you.

dont make the same mistake i did. i never would - we are too different. you cant see past the curls in my hair and the shape of my chin to know that, to know that there are a hundred things wrong with me but becoming you will never be one of them. instead, i make the same one he did. i always forgive, and stay. stay the night, stay a year. ill give it away before anyone can take it. ill stay until its distilled to a thick black sludge in the bottom of the pan, it will never come out properly. i'll stay and stay, until i just hate you empty.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

this is the fourth time today and it's starting to hurt. my room washes over us like the tide pool at an overcrowded waterpark, there could be a toddler drowning in the corner but we wouldnt care.

above the water there's a thin layer of air, grown thick and muggy. im sucking it down so i can taste you better.

hold your face tightly to get a good look at you right before we go back under - there is something here that you and i both like. something that i cant quite put my finger on, but it's in the way that your hair is sticking to your forehead; and it's in the way that your mouth hangs slightly open when you look at me. ill try (and fail) to catch my breath in this moment, before the next wave flips us over again. you are beautiful. im glad i found you. ill get my bruises from riverbeds and rockpools instead, i hope i get to keep you.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

my lover, the creek.

you said my eyes are the same colour as the water when it gets a little bit deeper,

they found a body face down the next day.

i lost my voice the day after i said i love you too.

call me when you get home?

the music sounds better when your hand is on my leg. i like the songs you play, even the bad ones.

i dont need you to come with me, but itd be cool if you did. can we meet at yours before we go?

you keep a clover and a tarot card in your phone case, i keep a plastic raccoon in my handbag - you ripped him off an art display for me when i said i liked his face. the fool watches us fall over in the ocean, you sink all the way down. we both know where you keep your smallest stones.

i might be going to hell, probably. but every girl in the bar knows she's beautiful now and that has to count for something.

the lighter glows in the footwell of my car when you lean down, your head on my shoulder while we wait in line. my car always smells like wet towels and cigarettes. we can drive windows down and sing louder anyway.

i'll kiss you hard so we both slip over, calling you honey while you pretend to be a predator. it tastes like mulberries and the outro of a cartoon you love (you said it gets good in season 7).

i hug your leg like a child and laugh like one too. let's talk about the last time we scraped out knees while we throw rocks at the water. how long until it makes a difference?

it came out harsher than i meant it to and i shouldnt tell you to shut up i know; i just didnt like the way it felt when you apologised. it was colder than i was expecting.

youre always gentle with me. its new. but i like to play rough, so even though violent sex is only for strangers i need to get my bruises somewhere. maybe you can teach me something new.

show me which berries i can eat, and which plants secretly get you high, push me over in the riverbeds instead. you laugh at all my jokes, even the bad ones. ill let you kiss me softly so i can keep catching you looking at me.

ive been collecting interesting people my entire life and you are the rare kind. you are kind. i like it when you bump into me.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

pessoa wrote of boredom, monotony. his job and his town and his boss and the office boy that left. he thought he was unimportant, his confessions meaningless. his favourite poet didnt get famous until after he died, too.

my friend (the one who saved my life, but thats a story for another time) texts me. she says "have you read this book? read this book. i thought of you." she says "i love you, i miss you, we were once so close until i had to get out of that town. we both packed our shit and picked different directions to run in. but i still know you, i promise - i know the part of you that stays unchanged. i remember the shape, the texture. i remember". she doesnt say the 2nd part out loud, but she doesnt need to. instead she says, read this book.

im afraid that i will feel this way forever. that whatever was inside of him is inside of me, too. that there is part of me, the part that doesnt change, that will feel hollow for the rest of my life. sometimes it swallows me whole and other times its quiet but it is the kind of sickness that never goes away. pessoa never figured it out, how could i?

i love her like ships passing, feeling that unaccountable nostalgia. i love her despite the diffused, anguished sadness. i love her with words she gave to me with love she handed me with lungs she designed. 'i read the book, thank you for thinking of me.'

i wont be famous after i die, i wont be anything. im nothing now. but she will miss me, and i will miss her.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

my advice is AALWAyyss going to be to just leave.

ur boyfriend is mean to you? dump him. u hate ur job? quit. ur name doesnt suit you? pick a new one. you dont like ur hair? shave it off. you hate this city? get on a plane. you hate urself? become someone else.

if theres nothing there for you, dont stay. theres a life that will make you happy and noone else can find it for you. there are no prizes for suffering. start over, try again, pack ur bag. im not sure if reincarnation is real but you can sure as shit have another life in this one.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

its nice

what is?

talking to someone who i dont have to explain it all to

i know

do you miss that too?

yes, sometimes. sometimes no

what do you mean?

you already knew all of my stories. it stopped feeling exciting - lost the mystery

it didnt feel like that, for me. there was always more. living the rest together was the adventure

i wanted to feel that way, and i knew that you did. but i just didnt

are you happy now?

sometimes yes.

but sometimes no?

would you be happier if i said i wasnt?

yes. it comforts me to imagine it, i have this dream about it.

about me being sad?

or angry, or lonely. part of me needs it to be true

what part is that?

maybe the same one that loved you. you know me, you know me well enough that you dont need to ask,

it helps to hear it.

you want to hear that i hate you?

it makes me feel less crazy, like i didnt make it all up in my head.

ill admit that i was cruel to you, i was. you didnt imagine that bit. and i still am, i guess - if imagining it counts.

thank you for saying that.

do you think if id called, if you called, we couldve worked it out?

probably not.

yeah, probably not.

...

i dont, dream of it. of you being unhappy. i want you to be well.

i dont believe that for a second.

its true.

youre so full of shit. why would you start caring now?

dont say that, you know i care. i always cared. you cant say that i didnt.

im not doing this with you, i just cant do it anymore. you're right. it wouldnt have worked out.

youre just doing this to hurt me

no, no im not. i mean it. i cant have this conversation again. we broke up so we wouldnt have to, but we're still having it. our whole relationship was just this, over and over.

...

you imagine yourself as moved on, full of forgiveness. i know you better than that, i know your stories. its easy to tell me im being mean but at least im honest about it - its better than your rehearsed slogan of kindness.

you always said that i was 'finding loopholes'. you cant see inside my head.

i can. youre a coward, and youre selfish. and you pretend to be someone youre not so you can feel better, keep treating everyone like youre better than them.

sure. you win.

i hate you.

i dont hate you. i never did.

stop visiting me, im done. you dont respect me enough to tell me the truth. thats worse than hate.

youre the one who brought me here.

[massiveshitstainsixtynine]

i had a dream you texted me and i woke up just to check my phone, in case it were true. maybe if i stop taking my meds they'll start predicting the future again, and maybe i'll really see your name on my lock screen next time.

i learned to make jewelry, if you were around id make you something youd love. we would both be awkward about it because wed know what it means, and then go back to driving around in your car.

we ignore it when i light your cigarette in my mouth before i pass it to you, we both pretended not to feel it when we shared a blanket in the freezing cold. if you call, we can go back to not holding hands in the dark. a cold romance, except for that one night where the dj knew how to spin. we can just call it the sixties and chalk it up to the strobe lights, you wont sleep in my bed.

i think we both knew this would have been a disaster, maybe thats why you jumped ship.

you stopped texting back - right after i showed you how to do coke. it was my birthday, and i put my hand under your chin to tilt your head back, crammed into that stall trying not to touch each other or exhale too deeply. you looked at me and your eyes watered from the sting and we both knew.

nothing that makes me feel that alive can ever last for very long. someone i used to know told me, candles that burn brightly run out twice as fast.

is that why you chose her? was it all in my head? were we only ever dancing?

ill fall asleep tonight and hope i see you again, even just for a second.