[thirteen]

I’m being melodramatic.
I resisted, I hissed, I kissed, I fucked.
The icy spell of half-loves past was broken
Or so I thought
Or so I hoped.
And fuck, did you feel anything?
I’m sorry to both of us that I did, but maybe I’m just goddamn tired
Of playing this charade
Of being absolutely indifferent.
I stepped upon a delicate perch
And I fell.

[twelve]

Is it these worn-in clothes? Is it this home? Is it this town? All seems old and draped in memories that I can’t see anything but the past. This feeling is haunting me as I try to hold onto what I’ve newly attained. I cannot help but compare. Even if our lips never touched, nothing felt nearly as real as what I had with you. Undefined, unexplained: I promise I never meant to hurt you. Fear grasped my heart and I ran and ran and ran, but you were always there, right where I left you. Now I’m retracing with hurried steps back to that place, despairing over whether you’re still there.

[eleven]

There’s a spot on the carpet that is compressed and obvious. It’s right in front of the mirror. We spend so much time staring into our own eyes or fixated at the imperfections no one else notices. I wish I could measure the time I’ve wasted gazing into my own listless eyes, trying to figure out what I’m missing. I’m not fucking missing anything! Everything is here, everything is available. It’s not what I’m missing, it’s what I have. Doubt and expectation have become my biggest foes. When you’re thinking fondly of those childhood years, do you ever think you doubted who you were or waited on expectations of what you should have in your life? No, you were living, you were breathing, you were playing. Waiting was not something you knew how to do. Patience was something they told us was a virtue. They lied. What’s virtuous about sitting on your ass and wishing for meaning to come your way? Forget the self-righteous. Forget what’s expected. The meaning of life is that we are alive. What else is there to do but live?

[ten]

Light. That’s what you’ve brought to these listless weeks that I meant to pass with little consequence. The light in my eyes when I’m smiling at those clever words you twist in my direction. The flicker of intensity that sparks with our hands intertwined. I didn’t expect this. Did you?

[nine]

I think depression is one of the worst types of sicknesses. It’s one that you feel responsible for, so then you feel guilty about being sad and then you feel even more guilty and so forth. It’s also exhausting; you either get too much sleep or never enough. The tired daze making life evermore lackluster and therefore more depressing. Telling someone you’re depressed is embarrassing, so it’s usually out of the question until you’ve suffered for weeks, for months, for years on end. Then the help doesn’t necessarily always help. It sucks. I’m not saying I’m depressed or anything. I’m just an angst-filled teen mentally over exaggerating my momentary sadness, theorizing the possibility of feeling this incomprehensible weight everyday of my life. I really hope those people have a happy tomorrow eventually.

[eight]

Breaking the mould of my usual routine, I wandered to the left at the fork in the road on my morning walk. I always go right. Right just feels right. Today though, today left felt right. I walked past a blossoming cherry tree, admiring the swirling pink petals in the gentle breeze until my attention was disturbed. There was a young girl on a sparkly pink bike with those pom-pom type handlebars. This bike was obviously new as it shined so pristine in the warm sunshine. It was without a single scratch which never happens with kids bikes, you know. It was her expression that took me by surprise. She was laughing without care, smiling only for herself. I hadn’t seen such pure bliss in so long, I’d forgotten it was possible. The look in her eye showed no remorse, no fear, nothing but joy. I must have looked quite concerning as I stared at her for a minute too long, but I was only trying to soak in a tiny bit of her immense happiness. It’s a hard feeling to find when responsibilities outweigh imagination.

[seven]

This is how the willow walks
Through time instead of places
It watches the seasons change
As everything replaces

The willow’s wisdom is unending
Stretching deep into the roots
Life cycle so continuous
With every year’s new shoots

The green contrasts remarkably
Against weathered brown
Although far less than
Against our concrete town

If only human eyes could see
The story of our wisest trees

[six]

And it’s the way you watched the tears roll down my face
When I scraped my knees that bright lit day.
I tried to hold in the salty waves, but your eyes said
Kid, it’s okay
It’s always okay.

[five]

My new thing is showers, I guess
I just stand there multiple times a day
Letting the water pound into the back of my aching head
Hoping that the hot water helps with the pain.

Watching the water roll down my curves,
Inside and down the slope of my belly button
Is a small comfort
When I can’t form coherent thoughts.

I think it’s time for another shower then
The third today
Because the words won’t form
And I can’t think of a single thing to say.

[four]

This parallel universe I live in is getting old.
The half assed exchange of "hey",
The heartless assholes taking advantage,
The worthless passage of time...
I’m just waiting for the end of it all
Or something to change the way I see it.

[three]

For hours I sat on my bed in the dark last night wondering what was going on in your head. What a pointless fucking task. What a worthless way to lose sleep. You'd think that I'd have learnt my lesson by now, but I guess not. I guess I'm not done torturing myself. This ache in my gut is awfully bittersweet as I'm stuck between excitement and dread. Excitement that someone makes me feel this way again and dread that it will end the way it always does.

[two] Desire.

Stepping through the door of the coffee shop, her hips swayed naturally as she made her way towards the cashier without hesitation. She ordered her caramel mocha habitually, payed, and moved off to the side to wait patiently. The man in the tan coat hadn’t realized he had been staring until their eyes met. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four. Their eyes held for much longer than average, while they perused each other’s thoughts and enjoyed each other’s appearance.

“Desiree!” came the call of the barista, causing her eyes to snap away from his. She grabbed her drink and strolled out of the shop without giving him a second glance.

The perfect moment had just occurred; understanding and attraction, without the disappointment of reality.

[one]

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid smirk.

I close my eyes to calm my racing heart. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. His confident smile fixates itself behind my eyelids. I open my eyes. It’s all so pointless. I sigh knowing there’s nothing to stop my brain from sending such torturous images every time I think I’m safe from these emotions.

Goddamn it. He’s not even that beautiful. He isn’t even that sweet. But somehow, somehow he snuck inside my head. He snuck inside my heart. This was another one of those idiotic half-loves that we both knew wouldn’t last, but we played with the idea anyway. My head knows this whilst my heart fights every reason, every reason why it would never work. I take another deep breath hoping to exhale each hollow memory, fully knowing that won’t happen anytime soon.

this is a test.

This is only a test.