☽ .

i write a little.

[perspectxry]

candles

and it’s crazy how

one small fight

can lead to a permanently burnt out light.

how ‘the end’

can evolve from

‘and send’

how ‘goodbye’ can spread-

just by the touch of fear that got to your head

and how

all this,

can lead to your understanding of ‘forever’

to be brutally replaced with ‘never’

never again.

[perspectxry]

i love you.

‪if i told you i loved you just one last time,‬

would you say it too- or just let the moment pass by?

[perspectxry]

ghost town.

i’m an abandoned building.

a ghost town.

the only thing i allow to pass through my cold bones are the spirits of yesterday.

these are the ghosts that haunt me.

you’re in every yesterday, but never found in any tomorrow.

now, all i do is get high-

to try-

& forget about the way that your voice sounded as it mustered the words “i love you”

these are the ghosts that haunt me.

& these are not your ghosts,

they’re mine.

i have no substances left to try.

because in every high, i’m only ever high on you.

flowing through my lungs lives the smoke of a clouded mind.

the kind that lets me forget what it felt like to choke on your love as if it were trying to rip consciousness from me, completely.

you,

completed me.

[perspectxry]

the reason.

i gave up searching for pretty poems that corresponded with what it was i was thinking-

and aligned with the emotions in which i was feeling.

altering words in my head so i could believe someone wanted to write about me.

instead, i began writing words of my very own.

it all made sense after that.

i stopped looking for alternate views, and

began sharing a perspective for the world to see.

[perspectxry]

swimming.

‪i’ll forever be grateful for the days where you’re the only light in the sea of darkness in which i’m infinitely swimming. ‬

[perspectxry]

forgetting you.

i’d like to think it was okay.

i was a little more screwed up then,

but you gave me memories that ill never be able to forget.

it varies in time,

but most days, it’s as simple as the shape and structure of your face i can’t escape.

eyes open- eyes closed-

no matter how hard i try,

you will always be there.

but to be fair,

i’m not trying very hard.

maybe, a part of me will never be open to the idea of losing you completely-

which makes sense because there are still staines on my bones from where your love once bled through-

even though at the time, i had not a clue.

i like to think of it as the water that fed the garden in representation of you and i,

but little did i realize, water becomes blood when the flowers grow more thorns than rose peddles-

losing its source & leaving a negative annotation in the purpose to exemplify no other than the warped pile of stained bones and broken limbs you left of me.

[perspectxry]

depression.

i hate that depression never ends and it only ever ends you.

i hate that when the storm comes,

so does the drowning sensation of you.

i hate that the world is so dark on all of the brightest days-

and i hate that the dark days feel too bright- forcing you in a white spiraling haze.

[perspectxry]

inspiration.

silenced by the sound of anything,

awoken by the sound of silence.

inspired by the darkness-

and shut down by the light

nothing without ‘you’

everything with the absence of you.

never been more empty-

and never been more abundant in the chambers of emotion.

~ thank you for giving me something to write about while keeping my head in a whirlwind of contradiction

[perspectxry]

a love like mine.

i am in love.

and to you, those words probably mean nothing.

but that is okay.

because they are enough to shoot excitement through my veins - like heroine needles-

you are.

my drug.

and that sounds like a broken record.

a cryptic hardness they were only ever words until they became your reality.

every lonely writer starts off by saying they’re high off a love they usually don’t even have to begin with.

but baby, this love is mine.

& i am addicted.

addicted and no amount of time will be enough for this kind of constant desire—

i have.

for this love

i call mine.

[perspectxry]

dark.

‪i was left alone in the dark again. ‬

& in that time i spent

flipping over stones & tossing pebbles at my feet,

i came across a horrible realization.

there is nothing more than this.

[perspectxry]

stay.

maybe the world isn’t spinning today

or more rather, it’s spinning at a pace that’s too fast to apprehend.

maybe the only pretty words i can fathom are lies, but maybe that’s okay because,,

we’re allowed to embellish when this is just for me.

maybe, i am not myself today.

maybe, i can not gather the consciousness of a better tomorrow- but maybe that’s okay because i am here, today.

maybe i’m choosing

not to leave the house-

using, every excuse known to man.

but, i am trying.

maybe my thoughts are stuck in a turbine-

moving too fast in a circle i was never a part of to begin with.

maybe, i’m a little sad today,

and the only force i’ll avail is to wish the bad thoughts away-

and maybe,

this is just

a bad day.

but either way,

it’s important to realize,

it’s okay to have an off day.

you do not always need to present the best version of yourself to impress those around you.

make yourself proud with the little improvements,

that IS something.

& at least you know you’re trying.

maybe that’s not enough for them,

but allow it to be enough for yourself- instead.

you’re allowed to hurt,

& to have your emotions shine through the cracked surface and crevasses that live inside of you-

look at the moon

and try and convince yourself that you’re alone. but- i promise you,

this is just a temporary mindset of today.

maybe, if we wish hard enough,

we’ll find a better tomorrow.

all you have to do-

is stay.

[perspectxry]

She has a name.

creeping behind the dark squeaky staircase.

she has a name.

seeping through the creaky white walls of what otherwise resembles a prison.

she has a name.

lurking the corners of the deep ‘blue’ sea.

she has a name.

making friends with ghosts & sleeping with demons.

she has a name.

and her name is mine.

~depression

[perspectxry]

disconnected.

you are there,

but no matter how hard i try, i can’t see you anywhere.

your lips are softly pressed against mine,

but they’re numb-

and quite frankly you can bite my lip as frantically as you desire-

but it’s no use- nothing will change despite how hard you try-

our love has grown dire.

you’re holding my hand, but my fingers are cold & fragile, collecting dust like an antique on the top shelf of your mother’s old china cabinet. you’re losing me.

don’t you see?

i just wish you saw it too-

because then i wouldn’t feel so bad trying to explain it to you.

[perspectxry]

dissociation.

i feel like my conscious is living my life for me.

while my body stands by and watches time pass me by.

i feel as though my thoughts are floating on the brink of the outer layer of my being while the inner makings of what’s supposed to be made of me are left a blown out fuse- or tripped circuit-

while what’s left and able to be understood of my thoughts just keep repeating- a cd- stuck on repeat-

is it even worth it?

[perspectxry]

love?? (revisited)

when did love stop resembling this reluctant beautiful fantasy & become more of a black hole stranded in the middle of the universe?

when did love decide to stop being the ruler of the heart,, and allow the idea of abrupt brokenness take over? with the idea that fear and inadequacy are the only light you’re capable of distinguishing.

when did love stop acting as a breathtaking, time-stopping fairytale that you dreamt about sleeping in your parents bedroom,, and become nothing more than midnight awakenings- nightmares- and deep ominous thunderstorms?

i am sickened by the corruption that has become everyone’s interpretation of “love”.

they say the only people that aren’t in love, are those who have been poisoned by the conception that love is ,, Catastrophic,,

so, tonight, i’m crawling back in bed and hoping to paint a picture to regenerate the perception of how love should really be endured, perceived, and experienced.

i’m no expert on the mysterious underkept inexplicable concept of love,

but, i at least have every idea as to how it shouldn’t be.

[perspectxry]

Feelings.

feelings exist in the mix of the madness in the center of the world to help maintain the nonsense that we address and demonstrate as a human life. this, standing in the innermost depths of ones own heart along with their unbarring soul. this creates a type of confusion the way it's constantly changing its state of direction, meaning, and overall target. only forcing us on a manic rampage spinning all the way out of control. there is no steering wheel. there is no break. just you, the wheels, and your ability to hold on to the seat placed directly beneath you. so from here, all we can really do is sit back, and enjoy the ride. close your eyes, relax. this adventure may not be completely equable, but the mystery as to where it takes us is electrifying.

so, let’s enjoy it while we still believe in a destination and not just the journey.

let’s enjoy it while we still consider light at the end of the tunnel.

[perspectxry]

coping.

i am the artist of my own misery-

i am the doll maker.

i sculpted my being-

inserted it with heavy pain-

& told myself “this all must remain”-

i stuffed myself with ‘brutal mistakes’-

& assured- there’s no way out- even if this breaks-

i was lathered in ‘regret’ & set off in society-

and have no excuse for my actions,

but at least have a reason for my lack of sobriety.