Novel Idea

Something I dreamt up one morning.

[novelidea]

i’m so lonely

and so far from myself

back home i had all these places i could take myself when i felt this way

beautiful beautiful places that would bleed the lonely out of me

i’m so misplaced

i don’t know where to go

i don’t know where to bleed

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I will literally break the universe to prove a point.

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If I felt for a second someone actually saw what I do I'd probably faint. No sense in blushing in war times.

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I have so much love in my heart, so much love to give.  The word haunts me like a bad dream.  Burn me up like a match, knock me out like the fight this is.

I can only talk about my feelings in similes.

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I'm different now.  Everything is different now.  It's different now.  Standing across the room from you, walking into an empty room, your smile.  Your eyes glow a little hotter and my fingertips right along with them.  My throat aches in the way that my heart aches to think of you.  I've lost my way, oh boy I've lost my way and all I've stumbled into is you and your cigarette breath.  I'd be your ashtray just to be alone in a room with you and your guard down - I told you I was a romantic in the idealist sense not the lovey way but I lied because when I look at you I see rose petals and feel sick.  A good sick.  For a moment I feel all the love that was never reciprocated flood back into you.  For a moment I don't care.  You get my drunk over my morning coffee and my mouth open wide grinning - you -  You don't even know.

me.

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My fingertips are rocky coastlines I’m always throwing myself off of.  Punching myself through the tides over and over again until my knuckles bruise and break.  Bruise and break.  Black and blue.  The foamy white of the water meeting rock.  The heavy red of rock meeting skin.

I could throw myself into your eyes.  Bruising my own lips, breaking my own hips.  I’m always dark (like your hair).  Always lost.

[haleyincarnate]

“I carved a canyon out of my heart long ago just to hear the echo of your name travel through it. Admired each syllable, the way the construction of the word in its entirety sounds like a psalm, like a mantra, like a poem inside a poem. Now all the wind carries there is emptiness.”

— (16/30) // Haley Hendrick

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“I can’t read you”.

I’m leaning on my car, you’re sitting out of yours.  The question was only who’s car to take, but I suppose that holds meaning, too.  Why would you want to read me? I think; you don’t read much, anyways.  I’m not a picture book, I’m no good to look at.  I’m not a magazine with white smiles or current stories, I carry no gossip.  I’m a dusty old story barely holding my spine together, of course you can’t read me.  

“That’s okay,” I say, “we can take my car”.  

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I light candles and burn them like each is a vigil for me to keep.  When they burn out they scent the room and pull me back.  I am reminded that that time is over.  I use caffeine recklessly and I allow my hair color to wash out and away.  I leave my clothes to scatter across my bedroom floor and then I write about it. 

(What will we do with all this self awareness?)

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[ishanijasmin]

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