Come love, and fall asleep in my arms. Allow me to carry the weight of the world off your shoulder. Allow me to embrace all that worries you, all that keeps you in one piece. I promise to protect the dreams you have created in broad daylight. So come love, come and fall asleep in my arms. Allow me to sustain your everything.
We were never going to work out. Something about us spelled trouble, something about us made things worse, and something about you told me that it’s going to be another time of when I’ll try to get over this. So this time–
I always thought that I was so lucky to meet you. I always thought that you were everything.. but that was never true because meeting you wasn’t lucky. it was the complete opposite.
You were like a drug, you were the highest I’ve ever been.
And drugs do that, but then they get addictive. and any addict knows how bad the withdrawals get.
You were poison, disguised as something beautiful.
I was never lucky because, you never did a damn thing for me.
I was so blinded by the high that I didn’t notice where the lows came from. and I thought you were the good in my life but that was so far from the truth
because you were never good for me, all you ever did was break me.
and I thought you saved me, I didn’t notice that you were the one constantly breaking me in the first place. You broke me over and over again just so you could put me back together when it was convenient for you.
and that is not how this should work, but I never realized that until after.
You were poison.
I loved you. I gave you everything I had. I gave you every damn part of myself that I could give. I loved you and you were poison.
And you loved everyone but me.
You looked at everyone but me. You payed attention to everyone except for me.
You never gave a damn about me.
I was just there to remind you how great you were because at the time thats all I thought of you as, I thought you were the fucking sun.
I was never lucky to meet you, meeting you was a curse. It was a lesson that I had to learn over and over again because It never went into my fucking head.
meeting you was the worst thing that ever happened to me and it was the best thing that ever happened to you.. and you will realize that a little too late because I’m clean now. And looking at you only makes me remember how hard, rock bottom felt.
Those words you said, those feelings you made me feel, the way you left my thoughts, the language our body shared, the heart you tried to write into my story, the lips you used to taste defeat, the failure we created, the lifetime of poetry you’ve made my hands write, the way you counted those stars that weren’t for us, the story between the sun and the moon–
There’s a layer of words over all my scars - pieces of skin removed to spread the elasticity of a goodnight smile between the pockets I’ve hidden incomplete sentences. If whispers told about the inconsistencies night unfolds beween the letters that should make you, we would be a pillow without rest. I’ve folded secrets within the walls of my fingertips, begging the moon to write the love I never had. From barren valleys to scorched Autumns, red has never held hands with the drought of promise. I lost my voice when you said hello, but the only spine I needed was your hand. The only light– your smile.. but I’ve traced every reason to walk away with every fist fitted for a lesson, and the only thing that crumbles faster than December are your calculated kisses holding more continuous denial sleep can’t blink away. They tell us that everything has an answer, and maybe temporary was ours, but a quick fix never hid the cracks.. and my dear, we are just sinking deeper into the thorns we tied our hands with. My heart is lined with the carpet of your footsteps. One part echo, two parts disappear. One more goodbye so I know it’s real. This is how ghosts are made–
you thaw a numb heart, then let it go burn somewhere bridges can’t see. Sometimes when I sleep on this bed, I still see you. Sometimes when I breathe, I can still hear your whispers. Sometimes when I long for something that’s twisted, I’ve anchored myself into the seven seas made from your sweetest lies– I’ve been praying that this isn’t the truth, but it is.
Ghosts are made this way. I owe my heart to you, so I’ve been asking where we placed time– we’re lost without each other, but somehow we still found a way out of this maze crafted upon lips that cut me thin. I’m casting my soul off into the deepest parts of space, you once said we were born from the same star. Do you still believe that? I’ve created poetry from these veins, I’ve used your love to paint my roof, I’ve used your apologies to sew my lips shut. I’m going to try at this thing without you and if I ever come to be something you’ve never put any thought into– don’t worry, that line, this life, these feelings– you’ll know it’s for you. This counterfeit heart always pays its dues. This crystallized soul still deep inside your palms, I’ve been made of love letters for far too long, I’m still searching for the truth within the lie. So please baby, tell me once more– was there something wrong with me or was there something wrong with you? Was there something wrong with us? Or was it all rusted down to the iron, were we just trying to make beauty where ugliness made a home? When was the last time you felt pretty? Sometimes when I think about you, I still remember that time you said never say goodbye. I think I’m going crazy, this is what being sober makes us feel– so kiss me into a sleep I’ll never want to wake up from.
I run towards rain, just to feel your touch again. I jumped into hell, just to feel your lips again. This is the end of all things beautiful.
// The Ate &
It’s crazy, because when it comes to you I’m just putty. You simply look at me and I would melt to your every whim- do whatever it took to keep that smile full of sunshine radiating across your face. And, I still can’t figure out how you got me like this, but I haven’t been able to shake this feeling you give me. It’s almost like you’re embedded into my bones. And, God, do I hope you stay.
I could write a thousand stories about your eyes or your laugh or the way your hands start to shake when you get excited. But as soon as my eyes meet yours the words I’ve written again and again disappear into puddles at my feet, ready to be stumbled through by the fear that maybe my stories aren’t your stories too.