or is it poetry

“It’s rather pathetic.”

“What is?”

“The fact that I could conquer the whole world, but never her heart.”

—  Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #143 // “Some things are not meant to be no matter what you do”
You date a boy and afterwards, I watch you turn him into a city. You say, this is the road where his car went over the guardrail and he walked away without a scratch and took three whole days to call you. You say, this is the road where you threw my flowers out to make room for him in the passenger seat. You say, this is the road between his house and our apartment. This is the restaurant you used to frequent with him, which is also where you took me for our first dinner date. This is the used condom we found stuck between the wall and my side of the bed. These are the sheets you still hadn’t changed by the time I moved in. This is someone else’s bed and I am laying awake at night in it, folding and unfolding city maps, wondering if there’s a casual way to say, “Hey, is your ex-boyfriend Rome? because everything leads back to him.”
—  ROME by Trista Mateer

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.

Isn’t it odd?” she asked. “How you love someone for a period of time, and maybe it doesn’t work out, but they stay with you forever. Sometimes you get the random urge to look them up, see how they’re doing. And you stopped loving them a long time ago, but you feel tethered to them in a way you’ll never be able to explain. They stay with you.
—  People leave, but part of them stays // excerpt from an unfinished book #151

“What is this?” He asks softly, holding up a ripped piece of paper.

Her eyes are bloodshot and brimmed with tears. “Oh, I wanted to write all my thoughts down.”

“But… this paper is blank.”

Her smile is sour.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t have captured them any better.”

—  Blank Mind…

Once in awhile.
Every now and then. For a little bit.
Just for a moment. A second.

I forget. I forget what it’s like to
feel your lips on mine, the taste
of mint, waxy on my tongue.
I forget the outline of your body,
and the way your hands traced mine.
I forget how it used to feel, feeling.
I forget how I used to feel about you.

Every once in awhile,
I forget you. For a little bit.
Just now and then.

—  “But I always come back to you”
I have been saving up mail to give to you,
but I have no idea where to send them–
Or if you’d even read them
I have sworn up and down that I’d move on
I have cursed the skies for making rain
feel so damn calm
and hurricanes to be something
that I’d understand–
you were like a storm
that I didn’t want to end
and you were destructive,
but you were my chaos
and no one else’s–
how do I move from this place
if I can’t erase you from my thoughts?
They say that love is a double edged sword,
I can’t hold my tongue
and whisper I love you
all at once–
If you find me looking for you,
please look the other way
and let’s return to being strangers
—  loss and grief
Talking To You

It’s a lot like talking to the stars
So distant
So real
So imaginary
A light in the dark
Scientifically discussed in scholarly journals and second hand small talk

Talking to you
It’s a lot like math
Building sky scrapers and bridges
Haunting college students
Drawing perfect circles

Talking to you
It’s a lot like poetry
Raw and random
Humming doo wop
Skipping hopscotch
Abstract and cryptic
With paper lanterns igniting wild fires
Savagely molding 5,000 feelings into two lines

Talking to you
It’s a lot like time traveling
To some Polaroid in a shoebox
To a land before time
To the future
Strobe lights puttering
Tears and smiles, confetti and neon
Lovers covered in tar and space-age technology

Talking to you
It’s a lot like self-destruction
Quick and final
Explosive and glorified
On some mountain top
Spiraling into sparks and shredded metal
Nervously twitching
Covered in sweat at four in the morning

Talking to you
It’s a lot like a symphony
Structured and sweet
Following law
Peaceful patterns overlaid
Sweeping through the air
Soft and intricate
Making the things we’ve said a thousand times twist into violent revelations