She’s A Flood

Of every wicked thought (Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?)

[neptune-suggestion]

extrapolating a love story;

to clarify a point, i don't think you should have to suffer for love. i think it's a holy, terrible thing to presume you must suffer to earn love, for it to be granted instead of given.

i think there's a lot of well-intent when we say "i love you despite the worsts". i think there's a lot of love when we say "you're perfect to me."

i think maybe it's just cold comfort to me now, though. i think maybe i don't want to be beautiful. i think maybe i don't want to be godly. i want to be rough-hewn and messy and human. i think maybe i want to be so, so human with someone that it hurts.

i think maybe i want to be loved through the hard times, instead of despite them. i think i want to ache from my love, just to know it's there, just to know it matters. i think maybe i don't want love to have to wear the mask of perfection.

i want someone to look at me and to assure me not that i am not a burden, but that i am one, and that i am one they wish to carry anyway; that they know i want to carry them too.

[neptune-suggestion]

extrapolating a love story;

to clarify a point, i don't think you should have to suffer for love. i think it's a holy, terrible thing to presume you must suffer to earn love, for it to be granted instead of given.

i think there's a lot of well-intent when we say "i love you despite the worsts". i think there's a lot of love when we say "you're perfect to me."

i think maybe it's just cold comfort to me now, though. i think maybe i don't want to be beautiful. i think maybe i don't want to be godly. i want to be rough-hewn and messy and human. i think maybe i want to be so, so human with someone that it hurts.

i think maybe i want to be loved through the hard times, instead of despite them. i think i want to ache from my love, just to know it's there, just to know it matters. i think maybe i don't want love to have to wear the mask of perfection.

i want someone to look at me and to assure me not that i am not a burden, but that i am one, and that i am one they wish to carry anyway; that they know i want to carry them too.

[neptune-suggestion]

there's an aching in my lungs. it grows worse and worse as my hand closes around yours.

it's worth it, in the end. you're worth it, in the end. i would never let anyone i didn't love hurt me.

[neptune-suggestion]

I hate having to sit in the same room as myself. I get up and there’s water up to my ankles, and she doesn’t even budge from her seat. I crack open the door to my heart and everything pours out, and she leaks out with the rest of it.

[neptune-suggestion]

I hate being called pretty. I hate knowing people are looking at me in that way.

[neptune-suggestion]

My mind is full of the radio's static and acid and ichor is on my teeth. Oh how sick I am of living this way.

[neptune-suggestion]

There are many ways to be angry. One way is like a maddened storm raging against the ocean’s surface, dizzying and bleary-eyed and caring all too much. Another way is sobering, calm waters steeled in resolve, chilling trespassers to their core should they dare step in. It’s tired and determined and occasionally cruel. Sometimes, it’s the water in your blood, trapped under your skin. That anger is always with you, lives in you. Persistent and subtle, the anger is a home, and it is an exhausting one to live in.

[neptune-suggestion]

I denounce the devil in my own way, every night, when I let her in my front door, into the shelter of my heart, knowing fully well that one person isn’t enough to make a difference. 

[neptune-suggestion]

“The sun will rise tomorrow. It always does.” It is a promise. It is a threat. Can I not savor the comfort of the night just a little longer? Must you steal it away so soon?

[neptune-suggestion]

God loves guilt. The guilt of looking, of eating, of talking. God loves the guilt of desire. 

[neptune-suggestion]

God loves guilt. The guilt of looking, of eating, of talking. God loves the guilt of desire. 

[neptune-suggestion]

“The sun will rise tomorrow. It always does.” It is a promise. It is a threat. Can I not savor the comfort of the night just a little longer? Must you steal it away so soon?

[neptune-suggestion]

There are little baby chicks screaming inside the eggs. They can’t get out, I have to let them out. I have to make them come out. Can’t you hear them? I have to break the eggs. I don’t want them to scream anymore. I don’t want them to hurt. I don’t care that they’re supposed to do it themselves. I have to let them out.

[neptune-suggestion]

Your lips contain a nectar meant for only the damned. (I could simply drown in it)

[neptune-suggestion]

the cacophany of waves in your head makes you wonder if the noises ever stop. no matter how hard you cover your ears, how tight you clench your teeth, how much you harden your heart, that water seeps in like a flood, ready to make you drown.

[neptune-suggestion]

Even a kid can kill the devil. All she has to do is try. The problem only comes in when she doesn’t.

[neptune-suggestion]

The devil says a lot of things,

“Please darling, come home”

“I love you, my child”

“I miss you, it is so lonely without you”

god says the devil lies,

but god doesn’t blink when I believe him anyways,

never utters an “I loved you more”