forty-three

You’re too high up to try to look below you; there are plenty of men up here. If your man can’t be pulled up, you’ll only be dragged down and what a shame that would be. My child, seek someone who will take you higher. Into the sky, above the clouds, seek someone who will take you into Heaven. 

forty-two

Birds have the right idea. Coming and going as they please. It’s not cowardly to leave when you don’t feel accepted; you don’t have the time. You never know who’ll you’ll meet or what you’ll do if you remain stagnant, if you settle. Roam, wander, create, explore. The second you feel safe is the second you’re in danger. 

forty-one

It’s a special kind of cruelty, ya know: to look into my eyes, cradle my trembling face in your hands, and say you care, and in the same breathe say you want to explore. Explore, baby, explore. Search every cobble-stoned brewery and every ill-lit sports bar. Search over a hundred beers, search under a thousand skirts. I care about you too, love, but I need to care about me more. So when I crawl out of this bed tomorrow morning please spare me the feigned hurt. There’ll be a warm body here soon enough, it just won’t be mine. 

forty

Given enough heart-wrenching-crawl-into-bed-and-try-to-escape-within-the-shattered-and-weakened-walls-of-my-own-body-knees-to-chest-arms-tucked-in nights I will no longer respond to your name as if it were my own.

thirty-nine

You’ve been nothing but honest but honesty isn’t everything. Being honest about being awful doesn’t vindicate you and I’m understanding that I crave so much more than hands and sheets. I crave the kind of intimacy that burns my heart inside out. I crave the kind of vulnerability that makes me feel naked, fully clothed. I crave the admiration. I crave the laughter. I got lost in the way you looked at me; I chose to ignore that the hands playing with my hair were practiced and meaningless. I crave so much more. 

thirty-eight

I don’t know what this is. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how you feel. All I know I’m disappointed. You can’t say I didn’t try, though. I guess we all hold our hearts in different places. 

thirty-seven

This is my fault, too. I want you to whisper sweet secrets in the orange glow of the streetlights, but I also want to be strong enough to not believe them. And I have no idea where that leaves us. 

thirty-six

We were like the rain in a hurricane. We evaporated just as quickly as we poured. We left nothing in our wake unharmed. We roared with an intensity I didn’t know could be and then when it was over I wasn’t sure it even was. Looking through all the damage I can’t decide if it was the rain’s fault for being so fierce or the earth’s fault for being so fragile.  

thirty-five

It’s been 24 hours but I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to make such a promising word as ‘us’ sound painfully noncommittal. 

thirty-four

I’m searching your eyes desperately for any indication that the hands you’ve places on my cheeks are the least bit genuine. I’m coming up short and I get it now; you’re right. As known as your hands are to me, your heart is foreign and no matter how hard I kiss you I will only ever get as deep into your soul as you’ll allow. 

thirty-three

I have no idea how I got from your bed back into mine. Somewhere past the third stoplight and the second missed call, the tears stopped but in that clarity I felt myself slipping. My heads spinning and I’m remembering that the so called strength tequila can give you is really just well-disguised weakness. 

thirty-two

I think the reason I love the dark so much is that it holds the power to both reveal and conceal secrets, sometimes ones I didn’t even know existed. 

thirty-one

I’m far from confrontational and I’m all about sugar-coated truths and even I wouldn’t say the things you’ve dared to.

thirty

I will always hate myself a little bit for the way you heard the desperation in my voice asking you to try. Stupid, stupid girl, don’t you remember the last time? Don’t you remember that in shifting eyes you can find all your answers? 

twenty-nine

I've never really felt so seen before. I'm so naked and bare and restless in front of you. It's ironic how the distraction of your hands around my neck are the only thing keeping me focused.

twenty-eight

In the end it’s not the words or the kisses that leave us shattered. It’s the minutes they’ve looked at you and you’ve looked at them, where there was a profound understanding that neither of you would want to be anywhere else.

twenty-seven

There's a good chance this is all in my head. There's a good chance it's mostly my own fault. I shouldn't have expected you to catch me when I didn't even realize I was falling. 

twenty-six

It’s a curious thing: I’m okay with you using me for my kisses, but I’d never use you for yours. I wouldn’t be in this bed if my heart wasn’t somewhere lost in these sheets. 

twenty-five

I swear I only ever read about smiles like yours and moments like that. Where, for a minute, the world stops and it’s just crinkling eyes, sincere laughs, and messy hair. It’s a tightening at your core fueled by contentment and desire. It’s a split second where he hold so much of your heart, but it’s no longer dangerous, it’s liberating. 

twenty-four

I hope you smell me in your sheets when you help her into bed. I hope you feel me beside you when she turns over. I hope you see me when she laughs. I hope you think about how you broke another girl’s unassuming heart every time you check your phone. And I hope it kills you every time you walk another to the door and kiss her forehead. I hope you crawl back into bed, throw an arm over your head and hate yourself. Wanting more than everything you could need will always cause the worst regret. 

twenty-three

I’m already so comfortable around you and I’m wondering whether that’s a testimony of your acceptance of me, or my acceptance of me. 

twenty-two

The gentle rub from my shoulder down my arm is the single best affirmation you've given me. It’s something about the protectiveness and appreciation that makes me stay. We’re skin on skin, baby, but I need you so much closer. 

twenty-one

It killed me a little bit how quietly we laid there. Tell me something. Tell me you love me. Tell me you hate me. Tell me what images you see when your eyes are glazed over. Tell me what you’re thinking about when you stare at bleak trees in December. Tell me anything. Anything but that I should leave. 

twenty

It’s terrifying how you’re exactly the same as he was. It’s sad that I’ve found myself right back here once again. Old bitter intentions coming from new sweeter lips. 

nineteen

It's just cruel to have me in your arms, whispering that I shouldn't be in your arms.

eighteen

My mind’s numb, my lips immovable; cheeks tear-stained, heart frozen. I had a chance to run away, and I stayed. You had a chance to stay, and you fled. 

seventeen

I don’t have the energy in my bones to deal with roundabout excuses anymore. Just because you’re a bad friend doesn't mean it’s okay; just because you have a history of breaking hearts, doesn't mean it’s okay; just because you admit to not caring or admit to being an asshole, doesn't mean it’s okay. If anything, it’s worse. The moment you recognize the flaws in your character, you are responsible for making due changes. If you choose to ignore the progress you can make, especially at the expense of relationship, well, then, fuck you. 

sixteen

It was all so dramatic: the tales of your past and your apprehensions for the future. In between insincere kisses I listened and hoped you knew that while I may play dumb for the sake of joke, darling, I’ll leave before the punchline. 

fifteen

I’ll catch a whiff of my own hair and relate it back to you. Don’t you see how dangerous this is; how dangerous you are? Already I’m becoming something I don’t recognize. I shower and it’s no longer my body I’m washing, but rather, parts of a being you’ve touched. There’s a memory on every inch of my skin.  

fourteen

If my mind and heart could just come to a general conclusion on how I should handle and feel things, I might remember that I’m young and that I’m not supposed to care. If they could just agree upon apathy I might be able to go through life without seeking definitions. 

thirteen

It’s been a week in this room without windows. My hand slips in and out from under the covers and my mind slips in and out of consciousness. The only way I distinguish morning from night is I crave a little coffee with my whiskey. 

twelve

the pretty things in my ear that you’re whispering

are unfair, but I’m there, and I’m listening

I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel

is there a difference between right and real

cause there’s a certain curiosity

when I start confusing my wants and needs

eleven

It doesn’t even matter if I know it’s temporary. I’ll sit here and imagine forever. And that’ll be the death of me. I’m irresponsibly in love with the future; only, you can't get to the future if you miss the present. 

ten

here’s the thing that I have learned

it’s about a boy and a girl

no happy endings, not today

so put this down, if you’re afraid

boys are means and girls are dumb

it’s in between that we find true love

but circumstance and alcohol

can make it fly or make it fall

nothing gold can ever stay

just as it comes, it can go away

love is just a state of mind

it’s just a formulaic lie

it gives us something to live for

and when boys have it they want more

cause no one’s ever satisfied

they can’t see past the glassy eyes

it’s a spell and though it’s sweet

it won’t ever catch up to me

I used to be so damn upset

that I hadn’t heard those three words yet

but damn is I’m not happier

than the girl who sits around and stirs

picking petals off of flowers

waiting, hoping ever hour

I’m no longer going to wait

if you want me, you can chase

phone lines work in both directions

I’m sitting back, I’ve learned my lesson

nine

I’m sorry to be dramatic but after six years of hell, I’m keeping my guard up, and my fucks low. 

eight

I laid there with you and thought about him. About how I didn’t need him anymore, about how I only needed you; about how my kisses were yours and how it was your arm around me, not his. I thought and thought and thought until I didn’t know if I was thinking about you, or thinking about him

seven

It’s like the second I could be happy I make a conscientious decision to not be. I find every excuse to run. Run and hide and complain and try and run and hide and complain and try. I’m weak, but I’ll be damned if I let you fix that.