Are You Even Fucking Listening?

@ourhouseisinflames-blog

literally just somewhere to gather all my random bits of poetry/song. pls do not steal them ):

18 posts

Deep down I feel like we were something more than everyone else, we were more than words or feelings or maybe we were just all of them. This wasn't just love, it was hate, it was lust, it was melancholic and nostalgic and fire and fear, a calm and a hurricane, and every step in between. we were roaring and crashing, waves and cars, crushed metal in a snowbank, destined to never make it far.

I can't fucking breathe when you are around me I am fire, water, land and sea I am drowning in the ocean I am engulfed in flames I am covered in scars I will never be the same.

I like to think about your fingers laced in my tendons like knitting needles rip my arms open and make a scarf. How else am I supposed to be there for you after dark? maybe you missed me in the back seat on the ride home maybe he isn't enough to keep you from feeling alone I hope my sinews keep you company wrapped loose around your throat

I can't believe I created little galaxies on your neck those pearls look good over black and blue the feeling in my chest is not unlike a shipwreck, crashed and broken over you but I think I have held your salt water in too long you are beginning to burn my lungs I wrote hymns with my mouth on your neck in the back pew May god forgive me for the things I'd do to you

you were fresh like summer like early morning dew but they couldn't see the blood pooling at your cuticles and honestly, could you? you kept turning left on one-ways and you'd always hit dead ends while you were always searching for an exit it was always in your head

I'm not quite sure I ever loved you your neat yet broken lies they trickled through your teeth and spilled over your thighs and I was just too young to know the mouth deceives the eyes please don't go through the window just use the fucking door your footsteps aren't whispers there aren't secrets anymore why did you break my heart in silence? eyes fixated straight ahead the doctors called it, "4:06, her heart just stopped, she's dead." When they bury me with blood stained roses Will you hide in shame Or stand and own it

why the fuck do I speak demons pouring from my mouth and laughing at me bloody fingers on the mirror pointing at me dissociating on the bathroom floor, not like I have somewhere else to be I hate that I can relate to drug addicts Because shit, at least you have a sense of purpose cause right now the fingers shoved down my throat are absolutely worthless like, is staying alive, is a future really worth this? I'm so tired of there always being a reason to fight this. if I had it my way I'd much rather die this moment

and fuck if I ever saw you again I'd probably drive off a cliff or put a gun to my head you like ripping hearts out of chest cavities my arteries, your yarn to knit pretty things my collarbones, a necklace to keep you company and I hope my autopsy shows your blood in me

I'd rather wake up still alive, six feet under with earth taking over my lungs than ever wake up next to you again

how can it be water under the bridge if I burned the fucking bridge while you were standing on it?? does he love your corpse the same way I loved your bones?? did you burn or drown first??? the tale tells that we died the same day but I guess you living doesn't say the same. i am the demon in your head snapping your bones like toothpicks, fragile china tied with lace and ribbons.

I wish your silver tongue Matched the gold on my ring I hope your ruby blood Stains my opal sink.

The raindrops on your car window reminded me of a thousand tiny stars in the sky I saw the same when I looked in your eyes your whispers sounded like sleepy lullabies.

I'd seen you stripped a thousand times, but not with him, and not like this. A broken window, a fragile kiss. you might be something I could miss. I'd seen you cry a thousand times, but not for him, and not like this. a fragile window, a broken kiss. You were never something I could miss.

Are you even fucking listening? But your veins are bleeding out, next to your old bottle of ativan that you didn't care about.

I hope that you hate what your daughter's become I hope you choke on your words when you call him your son

It's been an hour but your coffee cup's still sitting on the counter You'd promise you'd leave in due time But somebody hit the stop sign outside

Our house was on fire and all you said was that you hate the smell of smoke. Did your throat close up that saturday, blood draining out your heart that broke? Your bitterness is killing me, our house is up in flames, and maybe if you felt something, we’d build it up again.

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