Is it unacceptable
to write break up poems
when you are in a
happy
healthy love?
Even though
the blood of what-was
still sometimes
trickles into your mouth,
making your tongue
into a rust pipe,
making your limbs
go limp,
making your body
fall silent
fall still
fall into a nothingness
that was once forced
upon you?

(Is it unacceptable
to still taste Nothingness
sometimes? To tongue at it?
To re-open the wound of it?
To stare out the window
in a bland, nothing
situation
and question,
Were they right?)

—  Nothingness, Lora Mathis

I’m just waiting to meet the guy where in the middle of being flirty and coy I can I stopped and go, “real talk: I’m super into you, I like you so much, do you like me?” Just cut the bullshit and games and just go. But then I’m aggressive and crazed and that’s not cute! Or is it?

There is a point in the night
where it all gets boring
Where all faces begin to look alike,
no matter how many times you refresh.
I’m tired of it.
Creating more out of what
shows itself as less.
Hovering over the “deactivate” button again and again.
After awhile all conversations sound the same.
All topics are recycled.
All endings are reused.
And I’m bored of it
I’m bored I’m bored I’m bored

Are you?

—  RU2?, Lora Mathis

Cutting people out of my life has become almost scary easy. If I were you I wouldn’t test the waters.. I won’t hate you, you’ll just be nonexistent to me.