ephraim

i have too many thoughts that never leave until i bleed them into paper. this blog will become my paper, i think

[unfadingtragedy]

to a man: i will say no and you will stop. you promise to understand and listen to that small two letter word.

to a man: you will break that promise. i won’t understand. i will use my bloodied hands to hold myself together so i will not hate you.

a man once said: hate is not becoming on the face of a woman.

i said: i do not care, i will wear my hatred on my face so the men will know to leave and the woman will know to come

[flowrrs4u]

I am good. I am loved.

[unfadingtragedy]

you want your hand held so badly,

like you’re drowning and it’s the only thing that will save you. but the only thing your hand ever grasps is empty air.

no one ever holds your hand, not even your mother. you must have done something really bad to deserve this. sometimes you want to bury yourself in the cold of the earth just so you know what it’s like to be held

[unfadingtragedy]

you were taught from a young age that the hand that hurts you doesn’t really mean it.

(It’s for your own good, of course, how else are you to lean the consequences of your actions if you don’t get beaten for them? the blue and red painted across your skin are your constant reminders that love hurts. love will always hurt)

yet your mother is always surprised when you kiss the head of the dog that bites you. maybe the only people that will ever love you are people who hurt you.

you feel like the deer, dead on the side of the road, who froze in fear of the headlights that never even thought to slow down, body cold, yet no one cares enough to move you out of the road. until eventually someone else finds you and offers their hand. Dripping with kindness you think, but they just want to move you back into the road so they can run you over too

[unfadingtragedy]

It’s so odd seeing the text messages change from (i love youuu)’s to

(hiii sorry if this is awkward, i left a hair tie at your house, it’s my favorite one lmaooo so)

And

(i left my sweater in your closet i think, the red one)

And

(Hey, sorry to bother, i left a piece of myself on your kitchen counter i think. It should be right next to the junk drawer where you put the other used things)

[unfadingtragedy]

you held my ring finger and said i was missing your last name, a soft smile on your lips. how strange it is to see that same smile as “i do better alone” leaves your mouth, “I wasn’t thinking, I know we’ve been together for a while-”

am i allowed to rage? am i allowed to cry how it isn’t fair, that you liked me first, that you’re the one who convinced me to try it, that i fell in love and you didn’t??

how can you be so interwoven in somebody else’s life and decide you want to leave because you want to be alone? you are free to leave,

yet i am the one trying to pick up the different threads we wove together and burning the edges so they don’t fray. but i keep missing pieces, there are so many.

my dog misses you.

[unfadingtragedy]

you contain your anger so easily. with placid smiles, easy white lies.

you think you are so smart.

that your violence does not leak out, that your peaceable hands do not clench into fists when you think no one is looking.

you think you are a sheep in wolves clothing. that it’s the world that’s done you wrong. that you can change if given the chance.

but you cannot change your nature. nor do you want to. not really. those fangs that glint when your mask slips are a good defense mechanism.

you cannot hurt a heart that’s already been devoured.

[unfadingtragedy]

you say a lot and yet nothing at all.

it has always perplexed me how small and unimportant you make yourself out to be // and how no one takes the time to see you as you are.

to see the things you do not say

[unfadingtragedy]

when i was small i used to think the lyrics to young and beautiful by Lana said, “Dear Lord when i get to heaven please let me be a man.” And ive sung it that way until a couple minutes ago when i was reading along with the actual lyrics from spotify and found out it was “please let me bring my man”

In this essay i will

[unfadingtragedy]

sometimes the words “i love you” get stuck in my throat, right beside where my anxiety lives.

she has to move to make room. the words tremble and die when i attempt to voice them, a vice clamped around my throat like when you’re in a dream and try to scream.

so instead i say other things; “ill see you later”, and “i thought of you”, and “goodnight”.

i love you so fiercely when you are not around, like a pebble by the fireplace that gets warm just by proximity to the flames. I don’t know how you do not see it, but i am cold without you here. perhaps i need to voice it more, perhaps i need to say

“i love you”

[unfadingtragedy]

sometimes i close my eyes and pretend my head is still near your heart. that i can hear it beating through your chest. a soft sound like the thumping of rain on the window pane, steady and lilting, and i imagine that I’ll always lay my head there; in the empty space between your shoulder and your jaw. yet,

yet my eyes open and i turn over and the bed is still empty and cold.

— sometimes i press my head to the pillow and pretend my muffled heart beat is yours.

[unfadingtragedy]

nothing poetic to say today except that i am going to lose my shit.

- every time my mother speaks to me i am forced into the body of a bruised child. i still flinch at loud noises and angry footsteps despite being big now. i punish myself before they can do it. if i lock my own self in the closet maybe it won’t hurt as much as when she does it. i don’t know how to leave or to even ask for help. my mother says i don’t like change and she always makes herself be right

[unfadingtragedy]

I have always felt disconnected from my people.

skhoyhee they say, friend.

but I have never been able to

be a friend to anyone but my

loneliness, too afraid

of everyone leaving to

form more than a shallow connection.

like I was

drowning in three feet of water

when I was four

scratching the bottom of a pool

until my fingers bled

until I found my own

way up, everyone looking,

no one lending a helping hand

— you still see red on your fingers sometimes, when you reach out and try to trust someone

[unfadingtragedy]

it’s your birthday. you try not to make much fuss, despite the day celebrating you, (what is there to celebrate anyways?).

you remind the people around you to save yourself the pain when they don’t remember. they insist they knew, but make excuses as to why they didn’t do anything.

but you don’t say anything. you’re trying to be grateful despite having nothing.

your mother always said to be grateful for everything you get. “you’re lucky I’m your mother and not someone else,” she would say, gripping your arm so hard crescent moon shapes become visible on your shoulder. she’d just gotten her nails done. “other mothers would’ve beat you more. you’re a spoiled piece of shit,” her nose would curl, and you’d try to back away, but she would shake you by the shoulders and start yelling, “I’m the only one in the world that cares for you like this! do you hear me?”

you would nod, too terrified to say anything.

she would eventually release you, still breathing hard, and pat your cheek. “anyway. happy birthday, kid.”

you thought those days were over, once you became an adult. but you turned 19 today, and your grandmother is the only one that remembered without you telling her.

“Happy birthday!” she shrieks, coming up behind you and pushing you further into the couch cushions.

you freeze, breath stilling, unsure of what to do or say. your heart beats faster and your fingers tremble.

she pushes you down on your stomach. “19 spankings for the birthday boy!”

you should be strong enough to push her off and to leave and to go to a friends house and never come back, but you’re as stuck as you were when you were twelve.

will it ever change?

— on turning nineteen

(anyway it’s my birthday and this is the only thing I could think of to write lmao)

[unfadingtragedy]

"what is human?"

first it was the way i remembered you.

like the way meteors are beautiful if only //

for a second before they die // fiery and quick

"meteors have no flesh and bones. define human. they are not dead stars"

we don't have a word.

if we gave name to it // it would

be real. and we would be forced to //

acknowledge it

appearances are oft deceiving, my dear

i am

i am not the hero of // this story

i would

burn down the

world

for a chance at

hello

"is that how the war came about?"

breathe in // breathe out

hold for five

there is fire and metal and //

RAGE in your veins and

// it will not be stifled

by // locking it

away

a hand cradling a

plastic face

there will never be another war ever again

"why?"

you know the answer //

but your hands clench

your words sink into your throat

your chest is stained // red

under the pressure

"why?"

you were too caught in your creation

your better depiction of yourself.

blow out a candle and ask the smoke

wanderlust to see everything the world has to offer

still, time passes

being of stardust and wonder // no

longer will you suffer

what is time in a moment our veins are filled with ichor?

still, time passes

"the embers aren't red anymore. the smoke has faded."

there's something strange in space

i think // the strange feeling

is me // missing you

"human. wake up. what if more come?"

no one is coming

"where is your weapon, soldier?"

you don't need weapons to survive a war.

just your tongue

"your life signs are decreasing"

a blank spot on your memory

how did you get here?

i'm not scared.

"no?'

the world's just blurred.

// but

if i end, do i live on?

when a life ends, what happens to the memories it created?

"it lives on through those who remember it existed."

will you remember me?

"nothing can ever be erased from my memory, human"

okay then //

goodbye

"goodbye? goodbyes mean sad. goodbye means ending.

human. don't end."

oh... i haven't told you yet

// have i?

human means end.

and endings are sad,

but so is not having any

"i am... sad then. i will never have an end."

no. you won't

an intake of // breath

"hello then, creator."

hello

an exhale

— a poem i wrote when i was 15

[unfadingtragedy]

Because that’s the issue, isn’t it? You could forgive everyone but yourself, when really, all along, the only person you needed to forgive to receive the peace you’ve been hoping for… is you.

But you are a poorly sewed together frankenstein of every bad person you’ve ever met. All you can see of yourself is the bad qualities you despise in everyone else.

You kiss the bricks you throw at others, but misplaced kindness won’t stop it from hurting when it hits them.

Can you ever forgive something as wretched as yourself?

— excerpt from a book I’ll never write

[unfadingtragedy]

“Heartbreak is a thing you know intimately. Not because of any poetic reasoning; simply, a brittle heart is easier to break than a soft one. And you have never been soft.”

(But keep your harsh edges, if it helps defend you. Only. I hope one day you meet someone that helps soften them).

— excerpt from a book ill never be brave enough to publish