Waxing Poetic

what if i'm the one who forgot i'm still alive

getting rain in the desert feels like the sea sent me a kiss to tell me she misses me too

there are so many thoughts in my head that i wish i could tell you

if i was doing this on purpose, then i'd be able to stop, right?

sometimes i feel like it's irresponsible to seek connection

no one works harder at reminding me of people who i wish weren't dead and people i wish were than the birthday notifications from my calendar

i wonder how many of the people who fed me growing up did it bc they knew about my food insecurity…

it’s probably a bad sign that i find monsters who spend their entire existence screaming in pain, begging for death to be such relatable characters

you're only allowed to come to my funeral if you snort a line of my ashes and fire a gun into the air while you scream for at least 30 full seconds

the only period in my life that i haven't consistently had an abuser, has also been the most painfully alone and lonely i've ever been

things i fantasize about hearing: "babe, have you eaten?" "let's go to bed" "we will be ok" "i'm here" "i love you" "you're best is good enough" "i want you to stay" "i miss you" "are you okay?" "come here, babe" "i need you"

at least i'm over the imposter syndrome of wondering if i'm "disabled enough" to call myself that

getting rain in the desert feels like the sea sent me a kiss to tell me she misses me too

standing on a grass patch of a park at midnight in an urban desert while it rains thinking "maybe my purpose in life is to spend as much time barefoot, high and surrounded by trees as i possibly can"

i love standing in the rain i love sitting in the rain i love laying down in the rain i love dancing in the rain i love swimming in the rain i love kissing in the rain i love in the rain i love the rain i love rain i love rain

my mom didn't die in september, but her birthday was in september and she was laid to rest in september and you can wake me up when it ends

i think i need to drift for a while

i'm gonna fight the sun. i think i'd like to be known for plunging the entire solar system into perpetual darkness, because i have personal beef with the sun

“i’m writing to thank you for teaching me the importance of never breaking no contact the last time i did it“ *burns post-it note*

you don't emote when we talk anymore. you call it regulating. it feels like you just don't care

some days i just want a tattoo on my face that says "don't fucken talk to me"

is it ok if i tell you i hate you even though that's a lie, and i actually love you a lot, and i'm just freaking out a bit that you're still here bc the longer you stay the more scared i am that you'll leave?

i wonder if she remembers what i said. i wonder if she knows that she’s the only person who knows that about me…

me vs the urge to push you away bc i don't understand why you're still here, and i'm afraid you'll leave