Alexis

a spy in the house of love

[vonneguted]

nothing has made me feel better in my whole life than picking up smoking and going vegan. I'm like morissey if he was cool

[vonneguted]

Juliet’s soliloquy

I knock at the corners of my mind, trying to find my way out. I do not wish to keep trying. Not when this is the life that is here, nothing feels real enough to be romanticised, not the tissues on the bed from sickness, nor the 260 or so scars that trail from the shoulder to the thigh, nor the near untouched discarded food, arranged like a ritual, if this was two years ago, the sight of it would send hits of pride. That is what is not good enough to be seen, unwashed hair and the ambience of a man ringing me, every day, whom I do not ring back.

[vonneguted]

stop me from writing impulsively,

From flowery words on a half-empty screen,

just another bitten-lip, falsely cocky, art school wannabe,

performative enjoyment of all the things I knew you loved,

chasing the high of feeling my name of your tongue,

and if the world is just scar tissue and alcohol induced headaches,

a bleak world of regrets, of ‘what ifs’ and biggest mistakes.

[vonneguted]

Unorganised thoughts on a sunday/Almost a poem

I seem to do my best work in the worst moments,

Shoulders curved, teeth grinding,

I blink and I see the tentacles of veins behind my eyes, illuminated with the blue light of a computer screen as I consume media much too young for me,

Embracing a childhood I never allowed myself to have. I know I have so much to work through, yet I would rather hibernate in my own melancholy or the sweet release of sleep than have to speak about my feelings.

I am so done with therapy, 

My problems from childhood follow me until now, 

Still so afraid of seeming vulnerable.

Even to my last breakup, the way my body trembled and I wanted to cry, and yet I lied, because you only realise you love something when it goes.

And I do have the ability of a poet where I romanticise the past and fear the future,

But I think I miss him, his soft voice, and the way his lips almost mimicked a girl's. 

People lie to you, you know? They lie when they say a girl is soft in all the right areas and a guy isn’t, but when you like someone, it disappears, you focus on the way they want you. Just you.

And maybe the worst thing about that whole relationship is that at the start, I was bewildered that someone could actually like me, and not just the idea of being adored. And he soothed my worries through late-night talks and holding me through silent tears– but I was wrong.

I guess I’m just better as a concept, and it was even worse when at the end he confirmed it, ‘At the start, Lexie, you told me I didn’t like you and I just liked the idea of a relationship…I think that was true.’ 

It's all so much worse when your fears catch up to you.