real life

get out
why don’t i speak up?

mama called me destructive
said it’d ruin me one day

listening to the weeknd to calm down
sinking into a black hole but i don’t even know why I’m extraterrestrial
i wish i could write something to express the way music makes my blood flow
i wish i could dance or sing or scream
run a few miles
get it all out
instead i’m glued to this bed to this room to these people who i can’t even ask to leave because none of it’s mine

in the night she’s dancing to relieve the pain

i never write when i’m happy
i haven’t made a happy list in ages
i haven’t journaled in months
never blog unless i’m crumbling

get off my fucking foot
get out get out get out
maybe i’m the one who should leave
oh, a flair for drama – that’s another one of my flaws

she’ll never walk away

i’m going to implode
or explode
what’s the difference
(one hurts me, the other hurts us all)

i want to buy balenciaga sneakers but there are families weeping in sri lanka over their murdered loved ones, taken from this world the day their supposed savior returned to it two thousand years ago
did you know there are people who feel this way all the time?
drained and detached and like it’s never going to get better and in small instances like this where lack of sleep and drugs have depleted me i understand why some of those people choose to end it
it is utterly heartbreaking that an imbalance of chemicals in the brain can keep a person from ever feeling happy

enjoy your privileged life

i can’t even study because of the headspace i’m in right now
i need sleep
and to breathe
big deep breaths

have you ever driven over a bridge and thought about how easy it would be to die?
one little veer of the steering wheel, into the concrete barrier
maybe the impact would be enough
or maybe you’d soar beyond the wall and into the blue waters below
maybe that’s how it would end
i don’t think about it because i want to, but rather to remind myself how precarious and precious life is

it’s a false alarm

i want to drink to excess
need some release
i’m gonna break my knuckles while i wait on his bed
even drowning can be an act of mercy when you’re living in gray
how much dopamine does it take?
baby sometimes the screen can be left alone
sometimes the blood is just blood
no hidden meaning in the iron and plasma
(chemistry was never my strong suit)
we’re enough as it is

he has a polaroid of my bare chest tucked inside his wallet
along with a condom
“just in case”
bite down or bite up i don’t think it matters anymore
i feel like sometimes i try to take up as little space as possible
physically and in other people’s lives
why can’t the sky hold on to the rain like i hold on to this choking?

she ain’t got time for loving

stare at me all you want, i’m not looking back
who said love meant anything in the grand scheme of things
who said it meant nothing
there is always more to swallow
and to choke on
i’ll feel better in the morning.


the heart wants what it wants

The bed’s getting cold and you’re not here
The future that we hold is so unclear
But I’m not alive until you call
And I’ll bet the odds against it all

I’m trying to build boundaries, rules and roads to keep me safe, or as safe as I can be at this point. We’re on the edge and I keep making excuses for him and I wonder what it would take for me to just walk away. I sat talking with Ally and Reilly tonight for three hours about everything, from boys to transgender people to God, and I talked to him too, over text. I think the root of my hurt and all the negative feelings associated with it is that he wasn’t thinking about us, he was thinking about himself. I was thinking about us, approached him graduating from a place of compromise and being willing to make sacrifices. It would be different, feel different, if he had done the same. But we can’t go back in time, can’t redo it, and I think the only chance of me feeling okay in this again is if he goes out of his way to prove that he cares and he wants this. I need to be shown, not just told. And it’ll probably take time.

But I’d love it if we made it.


I’m sitting in class and I can smell him on my skin and on my clothes. He doesn’t shower as much as he should, doesn’t do a lot of things, but damn he smells good. I’m sitting in class and I could cry because despite what my father says about us being too young and this not being real, I love him more than I ever thought possible. Terrified of losing him, and that’s how you get lost in love. Maybe I’ve forgotten myself in the last few months, gotten swept away in loving him and being what he needs and forgetting who I am who I want to be what I need. I don’t need a promise of forever but maybe forever is what I want. Then again, I’m twenty years young and what the fuck do I know about a love that lasts a lifetime?

Then again, who does?

Not my mother and father, not my friends’ parents, everyone has problems and there is no perfect relationship. Sometimes I feel like mine is pretty damn close but I’ve got blinders on, rose colored glasses that strip me of the strength to choose what he can so easily, to walk away. We talked for hours last night, alternating between avoiding eye contact and piercing each other’s souls with our gaze. Lots of tears, sad faces, short hitched breaths. He needs a year, he says, maybe less maybe more. I’m going away next year, off to distant places to get off on distant people so maybe it’s for the best. We both can have half of what we want but it’s hard to have it all. I want him, he says he wants me. But being open is hard, long distance is hard, a breakup is hard but at least it doesn’t drag it out. I am terrified of losing him.

But maybe he is just a moment, despite the word “always” inked across my skin.

make believe

love to see you shine in the night like the diamond you are

White sheet wrapped around a naked torso as he pulls on sweatpants and gets up to make coffee. It’s three a.m. and cold outside, the crisp air biting at our chests and toes as I lean against the railing and take a drag of a cigarette. He mentions that it’s going to rain in the morning and I ask him what he fears most. We’re galaxies apart, standing across from each other on a moonlit balcony, but I see a soul in his sapphire eyes and decide to stay anyway.

Did you believe it? Did it feel real? Sometimes I marvel at the way I can spin worlds with my words.

fall so far

We’re back together and last night we said “I love you” and it’s all good again, but strange because this time I know it’ll end. I’ve had two fun weekends in a row, filled with activities that remind me how important it is to adventure, even in my own backyard. I bought my mom a birthday card and need to remember to mail my absentee ballot form – all anyone’s saying is how important these elections are. I might stop studying history, might sacrifice a summer of travel for an internship, though in what I don’t know. Life’s a little in limbo at the moment and fall is always so, so busy; I feel like I haven’t stopped to breathe (or write or read) since early August.

– fragments of thoughts at work during a very hectic, hurricane-filled week