This was the very first poem I’ve ever written. I was waiting for the train heading home from San Francisco. Somewhere in my boredom I was overwhelmed with the need to create, and this was the outcome. This is my first time recording myself reciting my poetry, and I’m excited to begin sharing this new form of self expression.
Queer coding villains and many side characters is so awful like they’re saying “look we have so many lgbt characters in our show we’re so good” just so they won’t have to make their main characters queer as well
It isn’t the best feeling
Crying. In a parking ramp.
My noose hung from the stars.
Because you love him and not me.
Because I’m always wrong
And you’re always tired.
And I was born sad, saying too much and you were born anxious with overworked ears
It isn’t the best feeling.
When you let him be your home and I am a vacation that you didn’t get all your work done before you embarked on it.
I am an apartment building you never bothered unpacking your decorations in because I think you knew I was a stepping stone.
It’s not the best.
I know you are self destructive because you are most attracted to me when I am on fire, crashed fifty yards off the rails.
But I do not know how we got here, I am awake and you are asleep like every night where /I/ am lonely.
Your mother taught you to love broken things and I am no exception
You rest your head on the chest of an oak tree long since fallen.
I do not know how I got here.
I am awake and want to be anything but, my phone dies sometimes and I don’t charge it because I wonder if people will notice.
I think sometimes that heartbreak is actually easier than love because there are no more hot things to burn you: there’s just wet concrete and your gas tank emptying away money you don’t have, and 35 unanswered 4 am “Hey” s that leave your fingertips as comfortably numb as you are.
It isn’t the best feeling.
When your chest is wound tight around your lungs as you drown in feelings you dove into.
It really isn’t.
Watching you kiss anyone else feels like lightning breaking trees outside the car: I am safe but so uncomfortable.
You can’t breathe when you kiss me
Did my body mean nothing?
Does theirs mean more?
Were my kisses not lightning?
Didn’t you dive too?
Was I not worth the work?
Do you ever cry like this? I know it isn’t the best feeling
And I know you are so tired your soul shakes
But if you shared it, it would be so much easier
remember that you are still here. The human heart beats approximately 4000 times per hour. And each pulse, each throb, each palpitation is a trophy engraved with the words ‘you are still alive.’ you are still alive. Act like it.