#pepi time

[pepsineedsj2o]

we’re just the stories we tell ourselves

[pepsineedsj2o]

my desperation to do the right thing is gonna be the thing that destroys everything i love.

it’s that same desperation that granted me that love in the first place.

everything in moderation, i spose.

[pepsineedsj2o]

and suddenly, as if the spell had worn off, it all came back.

[pepsineedsj2o]

my bus smells like somebody i used to know

i wish i knew who

[pepsineedsj2o]

i don’t listen to brown noise anymore,

and your voice — i don’t even remember how it sounds.

but if i heard either one again, i wonder,

would i still hear your tires coarse the ground?

[pepsineedsj2o]

most times i don’t find poetry (or any kind of wordslinging) particularly fun, i think it’s more out of necessity.

i look back at old words written and remember how i really felt — and this is the only way to which i actually understand my past self (even if that past was a few weeks ago).

it’s important to me that i keep an archive of the pieces of my soul that sit desperate to land as words on the page, as i’d hate to misinterpret and misremember my own story. my own truth.

[pepsineedsj2o]

something clicked in me the other day — i was finally done dimming my own light. hiding myself, changing myself, lowering the opacity on my soul, it was all so ingrained into everything i did. i think i just realised there truly is no point. i’ve always known that, but i think it really hit me. the people in my life love me for me, and if they don’t, someone else will. whoa. i’m done pretending i’m not weird as hell, and how freeing is that feeling??

[pepsineedsj2o]

“Add something, if you’d like”

it’s all i’ve been staring at. i wish i had something poetic to say.