lonely are the free

i’ve been drinking since noon
and i’ve been high all day.
maybe if i pour more chemicals in my body,
i won’t remember my name.

maybe i won’t remember anything
and i’ll be thankful for that.
reverse a few months in the past
and forget who i am.

i mean, listen, we all change
and sadly we have to cope,
but some of us don’t know how
so we drink or cut or smoke.

or we find vices within ourselves
that we promised not to do.
but rules were meant to be broken, right?
sadly, that’s true.

i’m lonely and
i don’t know how to make
it sound like poetry

it’s just that i used to fall into friendships.
it’s just that most days i want to fall into
my bed or
my grave
and these bones are too
fragile for show and tell
and i’m like muesli with worse mental health and i don’t want anyone to
look at me except that i want everyone
to look at me and i don’t know what to say i don’t know what to
say i don’t know what to say to
anyone anyway and last year
my best friend
moved 413.4 miles away.
—  L.H
someday, i’m just gonna leave. buy a plane ticket, and just fly somewhere. maybe i’ll be with someone, maybe i won’t. but one day, i’ll leave.


am i stupid
for waiting you
to be mine
even though
you probably don’t want me

am i naive
to think
that we still have a chance
and that maybe
we’ll be together

am i doing something wrong
i mean
i’m trying my best
i know i’m scared
but it’s hard to talk people you like

am i wasting my time
because i don’t wanna think
i am
because i love you
and i wish you actually knew that

Maybe our bodies were bound in your LSD fantasies. Trips so long you saw me as the beautiful creature I am not. The milky way in my hair and galaxies in my eyes. You saw my hips as a portal to another dimension. Maybe our bodies were bound by clouds of mary jane. High off each other, not coming down anytime soon. Fingers intertwined with each other’s. As if letting go meant sobering up. Maybe my body came down from that high and finally realized I wasn’t as beautiful as you wanted me to be. I ripped our bodies apart so the intoxication of your smile wouldn’t become my addiction. I tried to quit you but withdrawals keep pulling me back. Back to intoxicating smiles. Back to fogged up glasses and fingers stuck in curly hair. Back to you.
—  Withdrawls