sometimes if i try hard enough, i can feel your skin beneath my fingers, silk and strength and finesse. eyes so blue and gray, that i can smell the ocean when i look into them. i can hear your laughter, a secret melody that only i can hear. it is no wonder that i love you when your soul is made of kindness that bleeds through even the darkest days.
i just want to fucking love you,
why can’t that be enough?
i want to crawl out of my skin, shed this ache and leave it like a ghost. do i have to feel this haunted everytime i think i am free.
i call it noise, but it's just thoughts. thoughts that manifest themselves in tears and blue and purple bruises that i could probably excuse, but i wont have to. thoughts that are silent but so damn loud at the same time. existing is hard, and living seems impossible. i dont know how to stop my brain from circling.
functional. the problem with functional, is that no one accounts for all the times you contemplate blowing your brains out as you sit by the water. as long as you show up to work, wash. rinse. repeat. functional.
i said im sorry that you caused me pain and i promise not to do it again. ill be patient and kind. ill be quiet and soft. ill be pleasant, and i wont be angry. ill be anything that you can imagine. ill take the 40 lashes, if you'll promise to comfort me after. im so sorry that you hurt me, i didnt mean to.
always wash your hands, before you shove your fingers down your throat.
if i was a pitcher,
i would be empty.
i would be glass falling,
shattering to the floor.
my sense of self worth is not based on your response, i whisper. then why are your hands shaking, why are there tears in your eyes, my body cries.
some days i almost slip up,
type i love you in the text box,
but i already know that would be
too, too much for you right now
so i just tell you,
that i care about you so much
and to drink your water
and to have good day
because i guess i dont
have to say the words
for you to feel it.