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20.8.15

what kind of man loves like this.

bitter to the deep end of my chest
because my mother's milk is not as sweet
then find i could not feed you from my breast
a mouth too full to suckle this new teet

the smallest hand to hold inside the crib
the softest home to find in this girl's lap
a starving boy will fast forget the bib
then try to scrape away his cradle cap

with silver shears too sharp to cut the cord
before this stillborn heaves its final breath
a door for us to leave the labour ward
would then become our sudden infant death

16.8.15

by midnight tonight.

I stitched my heart together just in time to rip it apart again.
How many times in a season can a heart possibly break?
I'm thinking back and wishing I never spent so much time with you.
I wish we never climbed that hill and watched the sun rise.
I wish I never held your hand in the middle of camp, with everyone around us and having no cares.
I wish I never stared at the stars with you for hours that last night.
I wish you never asked me to bed that night. I almost went to my own. I said good night and hugged you for what I thought would be the last time. Then you asked me to your bed and I swayed.
I wish you never sent me those words.
"i'll pick you up."

No wonder I have feelings now. Fuck.

But I am proud of myself today.
Because I made an adult decision.
I am not going to continue this with you.
There is no way this could end well on the path it's going.
I need to cut this cord.
I need to end this hurt.
I hope I don't see you before I go.
I hope I don't have to tell you this is over. 
I hope you just know.
Because if you try to keep this going, I don't know how strong I will be.
As much as I stare at my phone with wide-eyed anticipation when I hear it buzz, I hope you don't text. 
This is the last night I read your messages of love.
This is the last night I think of our bodies together. 
This is not love.
This is not the love I'm meant for.
This is the last time I make this mistake.


15.8.15

I am above you and in you. My ecstasy is in yours. My joy is to see your joy.

a broken girl in pieces approaches an open door.


If all you do is give your love to people who don't want it, how are you left?

Does your love just come back to be passed on to the next? Or do you become emptier with each loss and with less to give as time passes?

Once I felt I had a lot of love to give. And no one I gave it to wanted it.
But I always had it, waiting to be handed over.

Now that it's never been returned I fear I truly have nothing left to barter with.
I've lost on every bet.

I can't believe this is happening again.
One day I will learn to stop giving my love to people who give their love to someone else.
This is the last time.
The last fucking time.
This will not work out.
It never ever does.
This will not be different.

I really miss being happy.
I miss having all my pieces.

I lost my bag with my wallet, my keys, my rubiks cube, my tools and my earplugs at the last festival. I'm almost certain it was stolen. And all I could think of was how honestly I deserved it.

I deserve all of this.
I deserve every ounce of pain in my glass.
I have deserved every time my heart was broken into so many pieces that I couldn't find them all.
And once I picked up my broken parts, I'd walk into another man who would help me put them half together before he smashed them out of my hands.

Now I'm so fucking broken that I don't see the point in trying to put anything together.
This is the last time I try.
All that love I thought I had to give is going away.
I'm burying it deep.
Because everytime I share it, it hurts.
And I am done with hurt.


1.8.15

you won't see me fall apart.

the tallest boy is welcomed into the circle
he's moved to the center
then fed the ripest fruit.

the saddest girl becomes the offering
to sacrifice, to satisfy
to replenish this sanctuary of our strife.

and in this hollow there is what is destined
a girl never fed
a boy never starved.



I know you said no expectations. But think back to what you said and what you did.
You treated me as if you liked me. Your actions did not reflect your words.
And you will believe you are innocent and I am wrong and insane.
It is you who is insane.
You shook your head no while saying yes.
And now you're lost wondering how you could set yourself up for a strike and hit none of the pins.
You know what yes, I do hate you.
I didn't even like you when we first touched, I just wanted to feel a body.
You told me not to fall for you and in saying so, I did.
I told you I wanted to leave. I didnt want to cuddle.
You made me stay.
You made me stay so you could break me.
So yes, I hate you for it.
Now you're happy and you don't like me, and it's fine because only sad boys like me.
I get it now, I fucking get it and I'll leave you be forever.
And I don't want to be your fucking friend.
You still need to learn to take responsibility for the things you say and do.
Your defense is trite and absolves you of nothing.