For someone who claimed to love me so much, you sure made leaving look easy.

— Letters from S

the sheets stinging red and i feel heavy
from tainted clean linen, naive enough
to believe i wouldn’t wrap myself
in the comfort of made-up truths;
well, it is true - in another world,
another stinging red fake reality;
what is even real, so i tell myself
oh well, does it matter?

i pray for the story to turn out fine,
well, i’m just another tale now - redefined;
it slips through my teeth,
god, sometimes it scares me:
it’s easy, so easy,
almost second nature.

they tell you about how to spot a lie:
eyes searching through the room,
feet turned to the side -
it’s easy, so easy
not to show any signs.

the court room has burned down, i know
and i’m trying not to drawn line after line:
the defendant, the suitor and the judge
remind me of the vow i’ve spoken,
remind me of the way they hated
my laughing, my crying, my swearing.

i am myself even if i burn
(so much on authenticity)
when i try and try and try again,
overly fixated on perfecting the progress
of not trying to fit into my idea of perfect.

my idea - any idea
goal-haunting flexibility
i’ll take it, i’ll take it
as long as it’s flawness.

the sheets forgive me,
just hard to forgive oneself;
our one similarity:
dying at the attempt
to cover me.

i put myself to rest and turn away
from fading whispers, an ancient cemetery
where another rotting thought lies;

pretty liar, i apologize.

Devotion

I don’t easily

just trust anyone.

That is a battle

for those who have

endured.

If I let you in

then I am giving

you all I have

and leaving myself

with quite close

to nothing.

-J.Wool

All writing belongs to me.

We danced with fire too much,

Inhaled eachother until it poisoned our lungs

Your image was never clear, it was always a blur,

It stung my eyes like smoke and turned into ashes before not too long

Its poisonous scent still lingers in my nose.

We never moved on,

It’s echothers ruins we live on.

09.07.14 – Something happened last night. It might not be that big a deal, but it also might be the biggest. I don’t know. Let me just tell you.

I was at the roller rink. There’s one on campus that gets pretty busy on the weekends. I’ve gone a few times, but I’ve never skate. 

I went by myself. I mostly exclusively go by myself. I meet up with whoever is already there. Sometimes Lacy. Or this other dude, Lee. You don’t know him, but he’s pretty cool. If they aren’t there, I just sit by myself and watch everyone skate. It’s one of my favorite things, I think. I love the movement, the confidence. Sometimes I wish I could do what they do. I wish I could dance, be sexy, let loose a bit, but the thought scares me, so I just sit. I don’t mind much. Honestly, when I get to watch everyone else, after a while I forget how uncomfortable I am.

Last night, I sat at a table near the entrance. I was glad when no one sat with me, and watched the skaters like normal. I sat for a while, until John walked in.

I waved to him, because he’s my friend. He waved back and walked over to my table. I thought he was just going to sit down, but he didn’t. Instead, he took my hand.

I should probably mention that I’ve decided that I don’t like John. I mean, it wasn’t a decision really. It’s more so something I simply know to be true.

But when he took my hand, I let him. I felt a strange burning in my stomach, and I froze. He didn’t take my hand in a normal way. Like a handshake or a friendly hold. It wasn’t even the same as he did during prayer. He took it with some hidden intent. Or maybe it wasn’t hidden. Maybe it was plain as day, and I just don’t want to believe him. He seemed very confident. He looked me in my eyes, lifted my hand to his mouth, and kissed it. Gently. And as much I don’t want to admit it, it made me feel something. As gently as he kissed me, I felt as if I was bursting without my own permission. I felt stuck, and warm, and I couldn’t understand why I felt that way if I don’t like him.

He went to skate right after that. He seemed content with my reaction, and he strode away on an inflated ego. I left.

I don’t know how to feel.

09.03.14 – I met up with Ben yesterday. I mentioned him before; I know him from back home. We were close before. Close to dating actually. Anyway, it was kind of impromptu. I saw him in the cafeteria, and we kind of fell into each other. It wasn’t like how it used to be, but it was familiar. We stood together for a while; his arm slung around my shoulders, pulling me into him, my arms wrapped around his waist. We probably looked close to how we did last year.

He asked if I wanted to hang out later, and I said yes. When I got back to my dorm, I texted Nick to tell him. His reaction was interesting.

“Ben? That guy you told me about from back home?”

“Yea. He’s cool. I don’t feel any type of way.”

“I don’t know Vi,” and then he laughed, “just make sure you don’t have sex with him.”

I could be reading into it, but he’s acting like he doesn’t have a whole girlfriend living on the same campus as him, like he has a reason to be jealous.

He’s acting like he doesn’t know exactly how I feel.

Anyway, after the sun went down, Ben met me at my dorm, and we walked all the way to the soccer field that sat between the science department and the business building. He ended up pulling me up on the bleachers with him. We didn’t really talk much or about anything in particular. We just sat closely for a time. We laughed a little. It was strange, being around someone so familiar and feeling something so unfamiliar. Having no expectations, being upset about nothing at all.

I don’t remember why we got up when we did, but we did, and made our way up the long stretch of steps that led back to the center of campus. After a few steps I had to slow down because my knee started hurting. And, as casual as ever, he said, “Climb on my back.”

“Really?”

“Yea, hop on.”

I hesitated. “I just want to warn you, I’m not as light as I look.”

“Stevie,” he laughed, “you’re fine. Just get on.”

So, I did, and he carried me all the way up to the main road. I forgot how big he actually is. He made me feel so small, like carrying me was nothing. Holding on to him reminded me of all the things I liked about him only months ago. Now though, I can’t help but realize how diluted that feeling is, how nothing clings like it used to.

We walked back to my dorm after that. I can’t say being around him wasn’t nice. It almost felt like how it used to, but only almost. I don’t know if I could actually feel like that again.

There is something in me that wants to live, wants to die

There is something in me that wants to hate, wants to love

It makes me terribly sane, nourishingly mad at the same time.

There is something in me that wants to fall, wants to fly

Like a bird jumping from the roof to commit suicide

There is something in me that wants to be freed and wants to be restrained at the same time.

It’s a two edged sword, my weapon is my wound

My wine is my blood

There is a dark mirror between us, with the demon in me and I.

08.31.14 – We had a club meeting today. Of course, John was there. When he sat next to me, he draped his arm over my shoulders, which is okay, I guess. At the end of the meeting, during closing prayer, he held my hand. I can’t say that’s not normal, but what made me uneasy was the fact that he linked his fingers in mine. It wasn’t a friendly hold. It hinted at a wanting. It didn’t ask.

I would say I know how to feel about it. At one point I thought I did know, but now I think that’d be a lie.

~

I can’t wait for today to be over. 

Caleb invited me to an open workshop the poetry club was hosting. I went. I was actually kind of excited. I like writing. I may not be as good as him, or the upperclassmen there, but I thought it would be fun. I thought maybe I’d make some new friends. And I really enjoyed the workshop. I liked the banter and the brainstorms. I liked everything until it was my turn to share.

My first time reading it through, I just read it normal. I’m not really a performer. I didn’t know they wanted me to be one on my first visit. When I finished reading, I was proud of myself. Then this girl, I’m assuming she was the leader of the session, she said, “It’s good. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good, but,” and then she paused, maybe she was trying to be dramatic, “I want you to cry. I want to see that you feel something when you’re reading it.”

Long story short, I failed her. I didn’t cry. I tried, but I just ended up looking like a dumb ass. And I could be exaggerating simply because I’m mortified, but I think I remember her laughing at me.

Caleb tried to make me feel better, but I can’t go back. I refuse.

It’s funny isn’t it, that I want to cry now that it’s not asked of me.

I’m going to bed. I should’ve been in bed a while ago anyway. I have an early class tomorrow.

When it is too much to handle. Breathe, remember the things that is keeping you to move forward and face it with that motivation in your mind.

TD

I want to sway
in our small wave

There’s a black cloud over my head
raining despair
take me to the sea instead!
please wash this weight away

let me feel the water between my toes
I am no longer in control
I am reborn
I never died, at all
I am gently swept
by our strength
I just can’t say no

I am gently drifted
from my pain
if I just learn to float
to sway
a smile slips from my mouth
it’s yours, it’s ours

my future goes back in time and still doesn’t warn that stupid girl.

it should go like this: sweetheart, don’t write down all the flowery words for that one person. don’t reach out for their hands. don’t stare a second too long. don’t giggle into the palm of your hand. don’t brush your hair. don’t smile sweetly at their jokes. don’t sit with them when the world crashes and burns. don’t wait for them to show up. don’t stay up all night consoling them. don’t give a pat on their back that lingers. don’t sit there, all bare, restless hands, bloodshot eyes and still let them take it, all of it. don’t say it. don’t say it. don’t say it.

it goes like this: it’s always a crowd, so she learns to step back, hold her breath and lose it all. lose herself.

i stay up thinking of someone who does not think of me. if that is not self-induced torture then i don’t know what is.

- l.r(@goldenangelll)

i pack up my troubles in a suitcase

and you’re the little square photograph

i stashed lovingly

inside a hidden pocket seen in the lining

a reminder of all the places i’ve been

and one home to come back to

— c.o.a

The Infinite…. !

My past self is so wise, sometimes I read things I have written before as self reminders and I’m like woah this is a great advice, like if I forgot something that I already knew. I think we forget sometimes and that is why I find so useful to write down my thoughts when I am in a happy state how I feel and the things I learn because they will help my future self. This feels so nice, knowing that I always have my back, it is so comforting. I love myself so much!. I am truly thankful for me.