15:47 sometimes the words i can’t say build walls in my throat, post guards to lean against my teeth, an oppression that forces my thumbs to tap out text messages i never let myself send [UNSENT]
15:48 you take my scarf every morning. i think you like how it smells. i think you notice that i notice. i don’t think you notice that i take yours too [UNSENT]
16:10 yess i got the milk, blue like you asked. did you want me to grab bread? [SEEN 16:11]
23:45 every conversation we have is a complicated mess of maybe and could be and i wish it would be [UNSENT]
00:59 sometimes i think i can hear you breathe through the walls. your sighs shake the foundations of our house and they rattle my bones. i hate that you’re unhappy and i hate that i could help if i just opened my mouth to tell you i love you because i do. i do. i just can’t say it yet [UNSENT]
03:09 the last time you told me you loved me it was because i’d stubbed my toe and then flailed around the room like we were on a boat rolling over the waves and i had nothing to hold onto but your laughter and so i prolonged the moment, drew out the pain just to see you smile for a little longer. i didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to act. how to say it back [UNSENT]
08:05 you took my scarf again and i took yours. i watched you through the window as you flung yourself from the front door. tonight i’ll roll my eyes like i always do when i pull it from your neck. i’ll laugh because it’s a habit by now and we’ll linger in the silence that follows, two stars in the same sky but still thousands of light years apart [UNSENT]
22:05 that’s it. that’s enough. i can hear you crying through the wall we share. it’s muffled like you’re trying to hide it and it kills me that you think you need to. i’m putting the kettle on and we’re going to eat cake and i’m going to kiss the crumbs from your face, if you’ll let me [SENT] [SEEN 22:05]
07:00 i think that last night was the best night of my life. i love you. the weather woman said it might snow. i love you. don’t forget to take my scarf when you leave. i love you [SENT] [SEEN 07:01]
يا رب إن عظمت ذنوبي كثرة فلقد علمت بأن عفوك أعظم أدعوك ربي كما أمرت تضرعاً فإذا رددت يدي فمن ذا يرحم إن كان لا يرجوك إلا محسن**فبمن يلوذ ويستجير المجرم مالي إليك وسيلة إلا الرجا**وجميل عفوك ثم أني مسلم
“My Lord, my sins have become so great But I know that your forgiveness is greater
I call upon you humbly as you have commanded So if you reject me, then who will show me mercy?
If only the righteous are allowed to call upon you Then who does the criminal retreat to?
I have nothing to hold onto except my hopes in you And onto your pardoning. After all, I am a Muslim.”
It’s been a year. Part of me still can’t believe that Anton’s gone. I wanted to take a moment to just write about what I’m thinking and feeling right now as I look back on the past year and consider how much Anton affected my life, because the more I think about it, the more I realize how important he and his role as Chekov was, is, to me. Bear with me.
I need to live inside an aquarium for awhile…I feel like I’m hurtling through frictionless space with nothing to hold onto. I washed all my blankets today and sat in the sun for a bit. I acted so carefully.
the ideal existence? to be a drug. a drug is complex air. for a few minutes this afternoon i supremely desired a chili dog with slaw. I told brenda that would cure me of disease. I dreamt a girl was kissing me and I was sucking on her tongue and it was so hard because it was her finger. I woke up feeling like painkillers.
My thoughts settle onto these set of words and I repeat them in a never ending circle. They loop around my head and all the way down the length of my body because they’re my protection and have been for the majority of my life. I led a deplorable childhood—unimaginable to most. I handled it to the best of my abilities because I had no one to help me, no one to encourage me. I didn’t have a single person in my life to lean on so I was forced to rely on my words as a form of sanctuary. When I had nothing to hold onto, they gave me the scintilla of hope needed to survive. They allowed me to believe in some sort of balance. If I had to live through an unfathomable youth then there had to be an equal—there had to be a better future waiting for me in the distance.
I thought that life was with Sehun—and for a while it was.
Castiel felt different. He even smelled different. You know, not that Dean spent a lot of time being a creep and sniffing his friend or anything - a word which made him want to laugh like a madman. Friend. He no longer had a grasp on their reality anymore. Constantly sending Castiel away when what he actually wanted, apparently, was something very unacceptable between men like them.
But when Castiel appeared at the bunker again, claiming to have become an angel, the most private secret that existed between them exposed itself like a live wire after a storm. Dean knew immediately that he’d swallowed someone else’s grace.
“I-I know, Dean,” Castiel stammered. He seemed to shrink right there, the shame running so deep that he tried to hide himself.
“Those aren’t your wings,” Dean said so low as if speaking up would shatter them. “What did you do to yourself, Cas?”
Defiance ignited his blue eyes. “I did what was necessary to prepare for war. They want me dead, Dean. They want all of us dead. As long as Metatron controls Gadreel and Sam needs rescuing, I need my powers.” His words softened slightly, repeating, “I did what was necessary.”
“But–” at a loss, Dean groped for the right question, “–are you … are you still you?”
“Yes, of course. Only the color changed.” He stepped closer, hesitantly at first, but bolder as their natural, unspoken magnetic pull drew one to the other. “Touch if you don’t believe me. You’ll know.”
There is deception in secrecy. Spreading your bones on the pavement allowing few to look at the grotesque details of your growth. There begins a lose of perception. A loss of individuality and spirituality. Without the neatness of your tucked away bones your skin has nothing to hold onto. I risked the skin that folds with the movement of muscle and bones as I pulled apart each part of my body to show you. The reveal offered a sense of relief as my reality was no longer my own. Someone shared the chips and cracks that I repaired myself countless times before. But as you examine my parts I discover the purpose I now lack. I expect for an equal exchange to settle my buzzing mind, only to be met by empty palms lacking warmth. Not only did I lack a currency, but the joints that held my hands together. Over time the pieces of me fuse back together as I create a false sense of self to trick my brain into reformation. I handed my heart to you, but you were the only one who kept it…for now. I never knew when I places everything into your possession that it would be considered your property. Or at least enough for you to pass it off as your own vessel. And that is where the deception comes in. I created a falsehood to protect myself from you. Because you started offering others my belongings and I am fixed here waiting for something back. I was never meant to receive any other pieces and I know that after vivid depictions of exchange with you and those I redeemed as valid. I am met with a blank wall, one I have to fill again. And I see now it is a game, and you are better at it than me. Now my bones are scattered and I am the only one left to find new pieces and forget the old ones.
When we first met I was nothing but an empty landscape You made me laugh so hard I cried And the tears watered a lost garden in my body Together we planted marigolds and tall redwood trees And so, I became a forest You were the tender to our forest Cutting vines, trimming flowers, nurturing roots But I stopped laughing and the ground dried up
One summer a harsh rain came and flooded the forest The flowers surrounded my lungs and the vines smothered my eyes The roots bound my hands leaving me nothing to hold onto I was coughing up dying butterflies then soon after blood Realizing it wasn’t out forest that was dying It was me
1. Did you find my lipstick in the backseat of your car? Did you smell me on your big shirts? Did you taste me in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep and the white noise made your ears feel on fire?
2. You liked how your mother hated me. My short skirts and dark eyes. You liked how she complained about my hickeys and my messed up hair. You liked me being yours, someone to show off like a nose ring or a black eye.
3. I kept forgetting to tell you I loved you so I tied red string around my fingertips but I lost all circulation and I have nothing to hold onto anymore. Maybe if I had actually loved you I wouldn’t have forgotten.
4. Lips of liquor burned into mine but I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to be drunk. I wanted you to intoxicate me until I was stumbling over my words, writing incomprehensible poetry, crying.
5. I hate you. I hate the way you left your hairbrush in my living room. I hate how you smell. I hate the songs you sing I hate the way you exist in my world. Get out of here. Get out.
6. The moment your cold fingers were placed on stinging scars I wanted to tear your hand apart and peel my skin off. I wanted to shower for a week straight. I wanted numbness to overcome me. I wish you’d never touched me. I wish you’d never been there.
7. I have a collection of erasers but they don’t seem to work on you. Maybe you were never real and that’s why I can’t erase you from my mind.
8. Love and me are incompatible. You’re a product of blindly assuming something was different. There’s a black cloud living overhead. I’ll never be in love.
9. I thought you would kiss my sadness away but your tongue was a spiral staircase and the railing gave me splinters.
10. If you were the last air on the planet, I would rather drown.