[xoxo-wildcard]

I felt your touch for the first time in 4 years last night. It’s crazy how the subconscious remembers things you’ve fought so hard to forget.

I thought I forgot how safe you tricked me into feeling within your arms. My arms, used to fit so perfectly around your torso. I used to love the way you said my nickname, the few times you said it.

When I heard it come from your lungs last night, it disgusted me. The sight of you quite frankly made my stomach hurt & my skin crawl, yet I chose- willingly- to stay embracing you.

Why?

Because even in my dream I was a fool for you. Like I used to be.

However, I didn’t embrace you for long. And after I pulled away, I walked away. Forgetting you were even at the same party as me. Back in the day, you would’ve been the only person in the room to me. To me, you would’ve been the whole entire party.

It made me proud that I no longer idolized you, I no longer let you have so much power over me, controlling my thoughts, feelings, actions. And at the end of the night when you asked a small favor out of me, in which I could’ve easily done, I shrugged my shoulders & turned my back. Not abiding by your rules. See even in my DREAM you were a manipulative piece of shit, angered by the fact I wouldn’t give you whatever you pleased on a silver platter.

And even in my dream, I knew better than to fall for it.

3/7/20

[xoxo-wildcard]

I remember the feeling.

I remember the sense of relief I’d get from receiving a text from you. A “I can breathe now” kind of feeling.

I remember the feeling of pure anxiety I’d get watching the “incoming call” with your name pop up on my phone. You’d have to call atleast 3 times before I’d actually answer, and I’d only plan on being on the phone with you for a couple minutes but it’d always turn into an hour or more.

I remember the feeling I’d get driving to your apartment, or your moms old place. “Do I look okay? Do I smell good? Should I kiss her as soon as I see her?”, singing along to my favorite “hype me up” songs, I’d be so nervous. But so excited. I’d be full with butterflies in my stomach just from the anticipation of seeing you, and spending time with you.

I remember the pure peace I’d feel lying in bed with you, blocking out the brightness underneath the sheets then later watching the sunset through the blinds. We’d lay or sit in bed for hours, talking, having genuine conversations, only pausing to explore each other’s bodies, or to get something to eat. I’d forget I had a phone, I’d forget there was a whole nother world outside of this little place. I’d be at ease. It felt like a form of meditation.

Nowadays, your texts feel like obligations. You rush to get off the phone with me. I practice my fake smile and pushing my feelings to the side on the way to your place, probably crying. We can’t spend more than an hour together without arguing, and it’s hard to even look you in the eyes.

I don’t know when the change happened. I could try and pinpoint it but I can’t do that without pointing fingers and I can’t point fingers without filling up with rage, and anger, and resentment, and sadness... sometimes even regret.

I’m sorry we ended up like this.

July 24th 2019

[xoxo-wildcard]

It was Friday night and we were at your family party. We were celebrating birthdays so there was another party the next day as well. You left to go drop someone off and I was in the bathroom so I didn’t get to kiss you “bye, see you soon”. Something in my stomach told me I should go with you. But I didn’t.

You were out for a couple hours. I figured you hit the block with the boys so I wasn’t tripping, I didn’t call nor text. I just went to sleep, your side of the bed seeming colder than usual.

I woke up to a call from your mom, simply saying you were “no longer with us”. I asked 1000 questions,

“What do you mean?

You’re kidding, right?

Stop fucking playing with me.

This isn’t funny.

Where is she?

What happened?

What do I do?”

to which she had the answer to none. I hung up & stared blankly at nothing. I told myself “It’s fine, you’re fine, you can do this, you got this, no big deal”... until my first reaction was to grab my phone and text you to tell you what happened, like you weren’t the one that just died.

And that’s when it hit me.

What the fuck am I supposed to do without my everything?

I couldn’t speak. I could barely walk. I couldn’t drive nor park without you next to me. I went to the next party but I felt so lost. So lonely. So alone. Everyone constantly asked me if I was okay and I couldn’t do anything but sob. Uncontrollably. They tried to “celebrate your life”, share memories and laughs in your honor. They tried to calm me down, hug me or put an arm around me but it was driving me absolutely insane because you were the only one I wanted to be touched by. I told myself I needed to get out of here. And “here” not just being the party.

See I’ve been suicidal before, but never to this extent. I ran for miles. Jumping in front of cars, vans, buses that all stopped before they could reach me and everytime I screamed louder, cried harder “I’m coming baby I promise you- I promise you I’ll be there soon”. I kept running, kept jumping, kept screaming. Nothing was working and I was growing crazier by the second.

I need to leave.I can’t be here.I can not be on this earth without her.I can never love again.I can never be happy again.Life is not worth living without her here.I lost my bestfriend.The love of my life is gone.What the fuck am I supposed to do without her here?She’s gone.She’s gone.She’s gone.I’ll never see her again.I’ll never kiss her again.I’ll never hold her hand again.I’ll never laugh with her again.I’ll never see her smile again.We will never have our wedding.We will never have our own little family.We will never grow old and gray.I need to get out of here.I need to get out of here.

The pain of losing you was too much to bear. I told myself anything, everything would feel better than this. My chest was absolutely empty, but burning. My stomach had the most unexplainably sick feeling I had ever felt. I was coughing up blood from screaming my throat raw. I told myself this was the worst nightmare anyone could ever imagine. And then I realized I was asleep. I immediately opened my eyes, and saw my cat huddled in the corner of my room terrified. My pillow, my shirt, my face all the way to my ears was soaked. I couldn’t stop coughing, my throat scratchy and dry. The feeling in my chest and stomach still lingering, but slowly subsiding.

Oh thank you God. Thank you, thank you God. Please don’t take my baby away from me. Please. Please I beg you.

I’ve had lots of nightmares in my 19 years of life. Many that I woke up from, full blown panic attacking and unable to fall back asleep.

But no nightmare compared to this one. And no nightmare ever will.

May 13th 2019.

[xoxo-wildcard]

I love you. You love me. But this presence of lust is coming in between.

There's such a fine line between the two. But when one is disguised as the other, distinguishing the two is damn near impossible.

Am I, in love with you & you, in lust with me?

Or are my insecurities becoming more prevalent?

Is it becoming more noticeable that my thoughts, my feelings, my attitude towards sex can be so hot & cold that even I have a hard time keeping up?

I want it so bad one moment then want nothing to do with it the next.

I felt at ease being dominated last night yet disgusted with it this morning.

I feel nothing but incredibly wanted when you beg to take me down, until I suddenly feel nothing but incredibly uncomfortable.

Is this because of me or is this because of you?

Are you too hot or am I too cold?

If I can't decode myself then how the hell is someone else supposed to be able to?

This blurred fine line has my head fucked up.

Love VS. Lust (August 13th 2018)

[xoxo-wildcard]

What will hurt if/when you leave.

1. the memory of you asking "can I see your scars?" while I was butt ass naked. I bared every single one to you. And you proceeded to kiss them all so gently. Like if you pressed your lips too hard the faint white lines would rip back open after all this time. No one has ever done that. I think that might've been one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.

2. Tshirt (Radio Killa) by Shontelle & The Dream. Because I'm keeping atleast one of your shirts forever. And I will listen to that song everytime I wear it.

3. Your note. Because you've been a lot of my firsts, like you said you wanted to be. & I hope you continue to be a lot of my firsts, like you said you want to be. But reading that while not being able to call you mine anymore, reminiscing about all we did, all we said, and all we were so close to having... would be the wound that never heals.

4. Having to see you give your love to someone else. And giving you that fake little side hug if I ever see you around. Like I didn't spend so many nights, mornings, days tangled in your arms and tangled in your legs. How could I try and act like all of it never happened? Like that isn't supposed to be me?

I don't think I could ever. So if you do leave eventually, I'll still be yours if you want it. When you want it. Because I want you. Now and forever.

July 4th 2018.

[xoxo-wildcard]

Intimacy.

I feel naked whenever she looks at me.

Like I couldn't hide a damn thing, no matter how hard I tried.

She's seen me in my most vulnerable states, both clothes on & clothes off. And either way the intimacy is so intense, you'd feel like you're choking--- suffocating.

When I sit here alone and think about it I cringe, I can't believe I've let my anxious self become such an open book.

But she.

She deserves it.

Because I know she's worth it.

And she makes me feel so secure in it.

She loves me and let's me love her and she's proven to me that love can be the healthiest, happiest, most intensely satisfying drug.

Ever.

You can't find this shit on your street corner.

She helps me rethink everything.

In the best ways.

She manages to respectfully disrespects me.

In the best ways.

She makes my heart beat, pound, skip, stop.

In the best ways.

I want to love her,

In every kind of way.

For as long as I possibly can.

For as long as she will let me-

She lets me see different sides of her and every single one appears more beautiful than the last.

She leaves me in awe.

She is undeniably talented.

And charismatic.

And unapologetically she.

She's weird but she's rare and she's inconceivably brave.

She's a protector who still needs protection- a diligent spirit that I swear is infectious.

She's aggressive.

She's witty.

She's considerate.

And she's so. fucking. fine.

But I could stare at only her eyes all day and still be completely satisfied.

She's showed me the movie kinda love.

The "we gotta go to the store at 5" kinda love but minutes turn to hours when it comes to good conversation & before we know it we got that "9 o clock run to walmart" kinda love.

She's made me feel that "relationship goals" kinda love.

The "hold me while I cry cuz even though I didn't tell you what my nightmare was about, you already know every detail of it" kinda love.

She's exposed me to the "Come up behind you and kiss on your neck as you cook" kinda love cuz when I say she's irresistible... I mean I physically struggle to keep my hands off her. At all times.

She's given me the "roll over to hold you when the thunder starts roaring" kinda love- then just a few minutes later "goin out in the storm just to make out a little" kinda love.

She's made me fall in love with the "cheesy", but I don't give a fuck kinda love.

She's made me fall in love. Period.

By showing me real love.

And only now did I find out what intimacy feels like.

Late night rambles. July 11th 2018, 11:16pm

[xoxo-wildcard]

That one girl was crazy but I know you loved it, based on my analysis.

And the other girl could sing, I hate to admit that she was talented.

She was real hood too, definitely more than me. You were blindly hooked on her as far as anyone could see.

Your last girl could satisfy you in ways I could never, satisfied you so well in fact you were prepared to be with her forever. You said she fucked like a pornstar, so tell me how could I ever be better?

My body's far from perfect, and I ain't rich yet.

My family's pretty dope but deep down we still a mess.

I just don't want you to get so caught up in the infatuation in your heart that you stop listening to your head.

If I'm truly not what you're looking for then please, let it be known.

We can try and work it out or I can leave you all alone.

These thoughts hurt too much to finish.

[xoxo-wildcard]

Maybe it was the sudden realization that her stuff still resonates all over this room, that this could be her pillow I'm laying on for all I know.

Or maybe it's the memory of her picture hanging on your wall just a few weeks ago. The same wall you had me pushed up against last night.

Or the Polaroid I just peeped that I know was not me-

yes, that's what has me in my feelings.

I think things are really over between you two. Atleast as far as I can tell, and as far as you say.

But do you miss her?

If I hadn't come back around, would you be married now?

Would you still be unhappily yet happily with her?

Would you be working through the issues in your relationship? The issues that caused the breakup in the first place?

Did I ruin something that had potential?

She was able to take the dog out of you, something I was never capable of doing.

You gave up your magic white powder for her, something I don't think you would've done for me.

There had to be something special about her, right?

About you two?

Something worth holding onto for half a year?

Should I have given you more time?

Am I just the replacement now?

The placeholder until you find your way back to her?

The warmth to sleep next to so your bed doesn't feel cold and empty without her here?

Am I the body to be used for pleasure? That isn't as freaky & experienced as she between the sheets but will do just fine for the time being?

I can't help but think.

I can't help but overthink.

The Art of Overthinking.

6/20/18. 10:04 AM.

[xoxo-wildcard]

I never wanted that with you but now that I see you with somebody else I think I do.

I've just been thinking about you.

But I got my shorty, and yours has gold,

Gold- the color our faces would look next to each other in all those cheesy couple selfies we'd take.

All the time.

Atleast I would.

I would smoke a blunt next to you as you wrote down some rhymes, as your lines fill the page I'd admire your handwriting, even it's messy. And your thought process, even it's messy.

Maybe you'd take a couple hits in between mental blocks.. or sniff coke off of me, whichever you'd choose but I don't even know if coke is your drug of choice anymore.

It makes me a little sad I don't know if coke is your drug of choice anymore.

Anytime you've let me back in, I've let you down and I don't know why I even try in the first place if I can't ever fall through.

Or just be a decent friend.

I'm sorry.

I can't have you as my lover but I do still want you as my friend.

I'm sorry.

I've been creepin on your twitter again,

I'm sorry.

I think I'm knocking on the door of your happy home sometime soon,

I'm sorry.

sincerely, I faced a J & realized I'm manipulative as shit.

(March 21, 2018)

[xoxo-wildcard]

With the music I listen to, about death, guns, and drugs you'd think I grew up on the block.

If I'm being honest with you tho I ain't even never held a glock.

I have seen death tho, in every kind of weather - and It's a different kinda thing to smoke a lil weed, and still have your ish together.

I grew up in the church, praising lord every Sunday- it wasn't until about 6th grade when religion started feeling mundane. Now hear me out, I ain't saying I'm a non believer but, if god can hear me right now I just wish he'd make things clearer.

I see too much hate in the world, I've got too much anger in my heart. It's crazy to think you have the power to stop all this but you just ain't doing your part.

You want me to love everyone, even those who can be cruel but when it was me who got locked in that room-

all I asked was for you to make him stop, Lord that was my one request.

You've seen my whole family struggle because of how depressed,

I can get because of these haunting daunting thoughts in my head. You've watched me bawl my eyes out in bed- numerous times. Now more than I can tell.

And if you're listenin then I guess I'm prolly going to hell.

Cuz what the hell is you doin? Why ain't you helping out? Do you see who's running our freaking country right now? And your people tell me being gay is a "No no", but I still don't think that's any excuse for what happened in Orlando. Philando, Laquan, Sandra Bland- Lord you let the cops win. But killing an innocent black person ain't that still a f****** sin?

There I go, with that sailor mouth of mine again.

Please forgive me Mr. alpha, omega

Beginning and end.

You're supposed to be my savior, my messiah, but you ain't even acting like a friend.

I wish I could believe in you, and in things I can not see

but the things I can see just make it so hard for me to believe.

Because people, my life, my demons haven't had any typa mercy on me.

And neither have you.

So what do I do?

I look out for me, only me- I say "eff" it, and "eff" you too.

I'll kick back, roll up in my room.

I only leave to make money or make some food.

I ain't out gang banging, or posing nude for a camera,

but now I see why people lose faith in you lord...

and start praying to a bandanna.

Are you there God? It's me, Peyton.

July 29th, 2017.

[xoxo-wildcard]

I have to physically remove his hand from my pants in order to have a single conversation with him. I spend more time kissing our cat, than I do his lips, and about 80% of the time in our relationship I’m convinced he’s more in love with my body, than with me.  The other 20% however… is when he’s manic. I never have to question his love for me when he’s manic. I swear, he loves me when he’s manic.  He won’t text me back instantly, or hourly. He won’t spend a lot of time with me, he’ll probably be out doing drugs with his friends but when he does spend time with me- he’ll hold me, carefully & delicately, like I’m the last flower petal left on earth.  He’ll whisper how much he loves me, over & over & over & over- but I don’t get tired of it.  He’ll cry on my shoulder and later tell me how thankful he is for me letting him cry on my shoulder and I feel it, I can feel just how thankful he is. When he shuts the world out, he lets me come in. When everyone else gives up on him, I’m the only one he says he needs. When his reckless and impulsive actions are making the life around him crumble, when his mom is crying because she looks out her bedroom window and sees her car is not in their parking spot, when it's 3AM on a Thursday and he’s drunk as fuck- I am the one he’s begging “please don’t leave”. He loves me when he’s manic, I swear he does, and he says the sweetest things.  He’ll tell me I’m beautiful, so so beautiful. He only does that when he’s manic though. I guess… he only loves me when he’s manic too.  Or maybe he just doesn’t love me at all. I don’t think I’ll ever know.

Written 3 days before we broke up. (February 11th, 2017)

[xoxo-wildcard]

I’m labeled as the crazy cat lady. I do have a whole entire album for my cat (72 photos, 35 videos) & on occasion I will start crying when engaging in conversation about her.  I don’t mind being called the crazy cat lady, but people don’t understand just why I am a crazy cat lady.  Excuse my language but my cat don’t do half the shit that y'all humans do.  My cat has never and will never cheat on me. The worst she’s done is pee on the floor when she got a lil anxious.  My cat will never be ungrateful because even though she is very spoiled, she knows I’m her provider. She never forgets to give me thanks.  She doesn’t have a phone but if she did, I bet she’d respond atleast hourly.  See I talk to my cat quite frequently and never has she ever belittled my feelings. I tell her I want to kill my self and she tilts her head slightly to the right side & props her ears up, letting me know she’s listening.  She’s never told me “oh stop it” when I’m feeling suicidal.  She doesn’t get mad at me, when I’m sitting with a blade in my hand either. She doesn’t cuss me out about it. However, she will start frantically meowing in a very high pitch and no matter where she is or where I am in my room, she comes running over and lays on my hands. To stop me from hurting myself. Sometimes she even takes her paw and lightly brushes over my thigh, just to remind me that mistakes happen but morning always comes.  I see morning in her orange and white fur.  I’ve always said it’s most important to put yourself first because at the end of the day, who’s lying down with you? No one but yourself.  But when I lay my head down at night, pillow full of sorrows and sins, my cat is laying on my chest- purring and purring and squinting her eyes, giving me imaginary kisses. I need her because she needs me.  Call me a crazy cat lady but my cat is what keeps me sane. 

Crazy cat lady.

[xoxo-wildcard]

“I don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else. Our love has gone cold, you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else. I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else. No, I don’t want your body but I’m picturing your body with somebody else.” I guess you were never really mine, huh? I was yours, But you were not mine. I changed all my plans, jeopardized my most cherished friendship, completely invalidated my own sexuality, All for you. Just to be your first slice of bread in the loaf. You know, the one that’s touch but is honestly inconvenient. The one that’s always looked over and is ultimately thrown out. When I use this analogy, it all makes sense. But in reality, it doesn’t. I been so good to you. I’ve been riding with you, even when I shouldn’t have been. Lesson learned. But listen, somebody out there likes that first slice of bread. Somebody out there will cherish all I have to offer and will give me all the love I deserve. But for the next person. The person that will replace me. Your somebody else. I hope she she knows how to handle you when the storm rages in and you break your knuckles. When the waves come, I hope she knows how to jump with the tide. I hope you text her more often than you would text me, and even if you don’t I hope she doesn’t spend her nights overthinking, second guessing your love for her. This is how I’ve been falling asleep at night. I hope she learns how to trust you. I hope she loves you, with her whole heart. I hope she always makes you feel safe, and treats you with respect. Once you find your somebody else, I hope she makes you understand why we didn’t work out. And I hope she never gives up on you, Like I’m doing right now.

Somebody Else. (January 18th 2017)

[xoxo-wildcard]

Why God? Why did you let a "Hitler VS. Berlin" take place in my grandfather's lungs? Berlin, being his lungs and Hitler, being the cancer- It took over. Why would you let it spread to the brain? Why God, would you take away my grandma's love of forty-nine years? On the anniversary of his death, she simply said "Oh it feels longer than that". Why God? It was not the nurse's fault for taking too long to come in the house, even though she could've prevented the fall but when it was him being taken out of the house on that stretcher, it was YOU he cried out to "Oh why God? Why?" I had never seen so much pain God. He felt like a burden to all of us god, why? It was not his fault. It was YOURS. You took my sunshine away and for that I spite you. For not getting him his usual gardening supplies last Christmas, but an assortment of ties so he could pick which one to rest in forever, I spite you. For the tears that welled up in his eyes when I said "I love you grandpa"- something I didn't say nearly enough, I didn't know that would be my last time God, why didn't you tell me it would be my last time? Laying on his bed, he bursts into tears when he replied, "Oh I love you too P-Peyton". He never called me by my name. Always "baby". I wish I could hear that one more time. I wish I could see his slight smirk whilst shaking his head whenever I said something ridiculous. I wish I could wrap my arms around his thin waist just one last time. I know these things aren't possible, atleast not in this life. I still spend my 11:11 wishes on him, wish I he's resting peacefully, Safely, Happily... Could you do that much God? Why? Because you owe me.

Why God? Why? (January 17th, 2017)

[xoxo-wildcard]

Maybe I only let us be a flaming second because of the fact that I'm scared to get carried away. I'm scared to get carried away in the fairytale thoughts of you and I and us and if I think about that fairytale, I start thinking about how freeing it would be to be a we with someone who gets you so deeply.

A piece I'm working on.

[xoxo-wildcard]

make me feel it then. grab me by the wrists, glare into my eyes and tell me you need me. say im every atom of oxygen in your universe and without me youre nothing. tell me i am everything you think about and everytime you close your eyes, its ME. tell me youd take a bullet through the brain to save me. tell me youre obsessed. that youll never give up. make thousands of CDs- tell me in unedited, disgusting detail why each and every song makes you think of me.

im a cynic and a hopeless romantic. words of affirmation is my #2 love language.

[xoxo-wildcard]

‘I don’t wanna be somebody, falling in a relapse, every time I see that smile again, I just think of when…’ I think of two people. One being him, the man who stole my heart in 8th grade. I don’t think he still has it; I’ve found closure. When I hear ‘please don’t come back’, he’s the only one I think of. Please, never come back. The other person I think of, is HIM. Because of the fact that relapse has a very negative connotation, and negative is how I should romantically feel towards him. Because he’s off limits. But every time I see that smile.. man, the small smirk that slowly grows into a wide crooked smile, I fall. I fall, just like his hair slightly about his eyes, sometimes. (Other times his hair just sticks straight up and it looks so cute). Either way, it’s always messy. Messy fits him very well. Fits, just like how I imagine our hands would, intertwined. I have this sick fantasy, where the minute I get my license, I pick him up and we drive to the top of a hill, where we’ll sit or lay and stare up at the stars, and with a cigarette in one hand, he’ll link his other with mine, without saying a word because our smiles and slight giggles would say it all. Speaking of cigarettes, I never thought burning the cilia lining one’s lungs could be so attractive but he wears it so well. With every cigarette, I can’t tell if I’m liking the nicotine or him more and I know either way it’s a slow form of suicide but I don’t think I mind.

Friday, October 21st 2016, 6th period