Original Nonsense.

Previously rileylynnebecks.tumblr.com

[rileylynnespillsink]

My fists are tight inside my chest filled with, crushing every piece of ribcage ash every piece, my own syllables disguised as your voice words, only before you can put them back behind stubborn teeth filled with, crushing times I have swallowed the entire world, gift wrapped the entire world- your own palms- filled with, crushing nostalgia, poetry, a woman I imagine in a blue dress, a woman I imagine with bloody fists, I don't know if they are hers or mine.

Culprets, Reflections. - RLF

[rileylynnespillsink]

When you tell me you can not love me because you are broken- I want to tell you that love is someone who is broken finding someone who is broken finding sunshine in each other. Love, had we never been broken we could not appreciate one another in this light. And I will love you until you say “my god, the sky has never been so illuminated.”

Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

I sat amongst the lull of the car engine, watching the sun kiss the water with the faith that it will be waiting again the next evening to be loved in moments of silence- I sat, watching the ground eat the rain with the faith that it will bloom in the morning, ready again to be soaked in the strength it takes to grow, I sat- wondering why I can’t be more like the simple things. The beautiful things.

Monday, 8:03 sunset- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

I read that a robin is a symbol of new beginnings, of letting go. And as it dances in your yard, as you’re slipping through my fingers, I am finding myself, I am finding the ways to unbreak, to become- to make the choice of what to let go of. To lay myself down and pick back up only the pieces that I know both of us can love.

Beginnings- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

This morning you tell me to open my heart to myself- my eyes have never been so wide, and I have never been so ready to grasp at the faith written into the skyline, to touch your hands with hands that tremble with life, to wash down years of uncertainty with a glass of water, to call myself strength and beauty and new. I have never been so ready for change for hope for healing. For me. Maybe then, I will be able to pull my reflection out of the mirror and climb completely inside of it. Maybe then, I will be able to love you the right way too.

It’s time- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnebecks]

On loving someone with BPD / Remember this 1. Today, you don’t recognize me. I am waking you up at 8am after a night of drinking, my brain is doing cartwheels down the sidewalk disregarding the threat of scraped knees. Today I am doing ten loads of laundry one after the other and vacuuming the house without stopping to take a breath, because crawling out of my skin is an understatement today, too far to claw myself back in with enough time to tell you that you look lovely. Remember to bandage my bloody elbows on the days I am too high to reap the repercussions. 2. Today I am loving you out loud from the tops of buildings, I have kissed you one hundred times in the past hour and told you I love you ten times in a minute, written twenty poems in my head about the rhythm of the heartbeats in our hands when they’re touching. Euphoric, I am climbing skyscrapers for you today, overwhelmingly manic, drowning every inch of your tired body. Remember that on these days I love you the same as the days I forget to be proud of you. 3. Today, I keep asking you how you feel about me, because for all I know in the seconds since my last string of questions you’ve changed your mind. I mean, who could do this forever, really. There is only so much room in someone’s heart to love a multitude of personalities, only so much time in someone’s day to check in and make sure I’m okay, only so much patience. I can’t stop apologizing. Remember that I mean it. 3. Today I am angry with you for no reason at all. Remember that it isn’t your fault. 4. Today, my texts are short and the silence is long. I won’t kiss you for more than a second when I see you, and I’ll spend most of my day sleeping in your bed. When you ask me what’s wrong, your question becomes rhetorical. Today I am backwards. When your arms find their way around my waist I will pull each finger off of me one by one because today, being touched feels like prison, the air around me is tight enough. And I’ll cry for hours if you’ll let me. Remember sometimes, you need to let me. 5. Today, you are sweeping me up off of the floor, kissing the scars on my thighs and asking me how I am- not knowing if it will take me a second or an hour to explain. Today you are loving me unconditionally. Tomorrow, you will do the same. Remember that I am the lucky one.

Riley Lynne (via rileylynnebecks)

I wonder if the person I wrote this about still remembers he loved me this way once.

(via rileylynnebecks)

I’ve forgotten.

[rileylynnespillsink]

Fifteen- locked ourselves in the bathroom and kissed like the house was on fire. We were always on fire then, I wish you could have seen it. I am more sorry than anything that you never once saw that look on your face the way I did. The innocence of dancing in the basement, splitting beers we stole from your father. The innocence of running circles in your yard and you were always ahead of me. You just loved me like that, I could never catch up. We were twenty five when you told me. We were twenty five when I found death in your dresser drawers, when I thought nostalgia could keep you clean. When I held you closest to my chest and wished for fifteen, for lost time. Some days you were lucid. Some days I thought you loved me again. I heard you are looking at ten years now. I heard your mother crying on the porch with a cigarette in her mouth. I wonder if you’ll write me. I wonder what it would have been like to have loved each other at the same time. I wonder if the tops of your hands will scab over, if you will heal. I will always be hoping for you.

Prison Letter- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

You are crying about your poison ivy and I want to kiss your shoulder blades till my tongue’s split open. My mother keeps asking if you caught it from our yard, my mother keeps asking if you have tired of me. You are crying about your poison ivy and I want to tell you that I love you. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I love you that way, sorry I said it in my sleep, sorry that I’m always fucking sorry. My insides are mostly apologies insecurities and firecrackers. And you are so grounded- but the now is still an ocean for me, and I will paint you gone every time the tide pulls me out. And it will take me time to grip the sand beneath my toes and know that this is permanence for you too. I am so impatient with you. With myself. You are a lighthouse when you laugh from the pit of your stomach. You are home when you smile smoke across the yard. You are just as under my skin as anything you’ve been complaining about. You are a storm when I am a storm, and we are soaking wet but we are blooming. We are overflowing whiskey glasses on new red bedsheets, we are making love on new red bed sheets, we are constantly changing your bedsheets. Constantly, changing. And I am praying I will unfold you, you will refold me in time to answer my mothers questions correctly. Trampled over red flags and broken glass the both of us. And we are bleeding, we are beautiful. I feel like I am breaking down. I feel like I am breaking you down. My beaded bracelet shattered the night you told me you were falling, really, I held you up that night. Kept finding beads and pieces days later, weeks later. Kept saying “we can fix this” but I was too fucking wasted, was too fucking tired, I imagine when you leave It will be something like that. I imagine you will leave. I am always pressing rose buds in the backs of dusty books and waiting for their death. I am always grieving for seeds beneath the dirt before they’ve had a chance to grow. I promise that isn’t your fault. I promise that you are enough. The day you asked me to be yours feels like lifetimes ago, does that mean we’re gonna be okay? You keep saying that. That we’re gonna be okay. When our chests are heaving, naked bodies, almost. I think you might say you love me, clear the tar from your lungs and say you love me, you are looking at me for so long. I am looking at you like I have been waiting for so long, almost. And if patience were a freight train I sure as fuck am patience, am a freight train, I am really working on my patience I am this tornado of myself that I don’t recognize every hundred feet of storm, I swear that I am living outside my body these days. You swear I look beautiful when I am crying. You are crying about your poison ivy. I am crying because I feel like I’ve lost you- and you haven’t even loved me yet. And you swear you aren’t leaving, and damnit, neither am I.

Poison Ivy Hands and Dopamine Deficiencies - Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

Maybe I am not the healer I once called myself. Maybe your sharp edges, maybe my sharp edges, will cut our pasts apart when we’re full of nightmares. Maybe I am too full of apologies and so the words spilling over at the brim slip right through your fingers, maybe I am just as scared as you are that we will both wind up piles of broken things. But if I could, I would unwrap your wounds bound too tightly for too long- sometimes healing needs to be raw. Sometimes even I still surprise myself. Maybe I could show you how liberating it can be to feel yourself turned inside out.

I swear these hands will be gentle- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

I know a woman who found god at twenty five. I wonder if there’s still a chance for me behind the people that I have lied to. But damnit if I am not my truest self when I smile onto your teeth, when I slide my past out of my chest where it’s safe in your own, when you swallow my sins right off of my tongue, damnit if you don’t paint faith back into my darkest corners. I try not to say the lord’s name in vain in your mother’s house, but Jesus Christ- I feel holy when our skin melts into skin melts into the dirty floor of your garage, when you’re on your knees holding my body like it’s the insides of your own palms, when I’m screaming something like prayers muffled by still summer air until we collapse into a pile of second chances.

If ever I have been forgiven- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

Dead weight and a heavy heart, I have always been told- I love backwards- everything, backwards, head first. Too many pieces to fit into two hands, a broken backbone that needs courage every morning, sad and sorry more often than I am anything else. The things you found beautiful in the beginning will twist themselves into burdens when my nightmares, my anxieties, start ripping through your paper skin, I already know you are not as tough as you’ve had to be. But I already know- I will unstitch the corners of your mouth when you forget what your smile feels like, remind you of the galaxies drawn into your own palms every time you feel the stars collapse around you, bandage your knees on the days you pray the loudest and pull god out of your chest when you ache for forgiveness. I will always try to salvage the butterflies in your stomach that I will keep crushing on accident. Ignite the fireworks in your eyes, pour sunlight over your demons, I will have patience with you when you lose yours with me, and you will. I will remind you that you are beautiful on the days when all of your mirrors feel shattered, pull thorns from your fists when you’re tired of fighting, and we will. I will feign bravery through my own thunderstorms and I will will trace these promises on your back when you are restless. And I promise, my heavy heart will never be easy, but I’m standing here with all of my pieces, feet first, ready to give you something wonderful.

To give you back the things you’ve given me- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

Two years swallowed whole by arms that felt like branches for the first six months. I lost my footing when they started snapping off in my hands after our first winter- when I was still hiding inside of the holes of your chest and you were still digging for reasons to leave home. I know I wasn’t easy, lead fingertips and cinderblock ankles- brittle elbows and brittle everything. But I fought your war every day with a broken spine, and never once tasted gratitude on your mouth that had become only a mouth after thirteen months. Only twice asked you to be strong and wound up writing selfish on my chest for it. I clung to the home behind the mud of your eyes even when she found her own in similar places. Feet still planted in the dirt of your mother’s front yard, sleeping in apologies that should have that tasted more like yours. Mourning for the pieces of myself that you loved, pieces that I cut off every time they grew back until they stopped growing. My mother told me one day that a body is just a body until it learns to love itself. That is the day I told you that I can no longer hang from broken branches scraping pavement, your shadows dragging a body deserving mountains and sunlight. Today I will pull out my roots from your doorstep, pull myself out of your chest and breathe two years back into my lungs. Today I will take back the woman who was too good to you for too long. And you can sit in the empty and acknowledge my growth in silence and gratitude- that all of the hate and all of the love that grew in my bones for 800 days has turned into strength and forgiveness. For both of us.

Our last closure poem / forgiveness - Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

It comes back all at once. Lungs flooded with poetry, quicker than you can say “I am so sorry that our death has taken years.” And I- so sorry for the space around me where you should have been, saying your name into the mouths of other people who swore up and down my thighs that their bedsheets would remember me. And I- was reaching for you in my sleep. Every time. When you come back, I’ve forgotten how to be angry at your hands for growing tired, screaming forgiveness at you because it means resurrection for me, drowning in the love she can’t seem to keep in her mouth, like it is my own. And we will hold each other in the darkness of the things we can’t let go of, different bodies now. And we will talk about what we deserve and how maybe we will find it in another lifetime.

It has always been you. -Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

Your mother tells me I am too good for you while she and I are preparing Easter baskets in the dining room and you are in and out of consciousness somewhere farther than I’ve seen you in months. When I come up the stairs I ask you if you’ve forgotten about the nights I wiped sweat from your forehead ran my fingers along your track marks and felt sorry that they danced closer to your veins than I could. You pull me in and kiss me like I am oxygen to your tired lungs, kiss me for the first time in ten years. You tell me you are the happiest you have been since you undressed your tired body of worn state greens and $6000 of your mothers money. And I am so in love with your aching, with your sorry, and I am as lost as I have ever been.

I have forgotten who I am trying to fix- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

I died every night in my sleep for a year. Born back into this body lifetimes away from a time we were in love. Less vivid after each rebirth, until I live inside of skin that has never known what holding you was. And I will sit on rooftops that remember your lifelines pressed against their shingles better than my own palms. And should I see you now I hope these hands will have grown into hands that never knew what it was to tremble. And they will bury me in this body with scars that don’t remember your lips and stories that are no longer yours.

Rebirth- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

I cannot believe how broken we have become in the hands of people who looked like love. Left your knuckles raw- my knees skinned to the bone. And we healed on top of one another- scraped each other’s tired bodies off of new tile onto a new mattress. But everything felt the same after all this time.

And I was sadder than you were- Riley Lynne

[rileylynnespillsink]

Our knees beneath the bar are starting fires, and where do you go when the lights are off at home and you can’t see things like how untouched your laugh lines have become. In the parking lot I will remind your hands of electricity, whisper no one’s name but yours into the darkness of your mouth, I will remind you that it doesn’t have to be too late to ignite the pieces of you she has forgotten.

And I wasn’t sorry for showing you light- Riley Lynne