When they leave, what happens to you?
Do you go too?
do you move apartments
cut your hair in an ugly bob
do you switch countries
try another yoga studio, or two, or three (anything just to keep him comfortable)
get a new job
go on endless dates with random people from the internet
pretend they are fun
pretend you are fun
and keep scrolling
keep scrolling
Do you start writing?
poems, novels - do you start journaling?
Would you ever read all that? Probably not! I am making myself cry, he said. Sometimes I do. He is right again. What happens to the poems? Do you start a blog? Do you start getting likes; is someone even reading that shit? Does he know I started a blog? Does he occasionally visit it? On Tuesdays, in that little free slot he has between work and his basketball game (to be loved is to be known). Around six pm. Is he flattered; does he think I'm crazy? Is he aware I know? Does he want me to know? Does he think I am pathetic and lame? Is it all in my head? Did I make him up? Did I make it up?
All of it.
That we met in my favourite spot, on a random day in June; that I was 15 minutes early and he was 15 minutes late. Very foreshadowing! That one night I was sad and texted him that I was glad that I had met him; that he waited a second to reply and said that he was also very glad. Which turned out to be crucial for the story. Is it just a story? Would it still be important down the road? Then, another night, years later, I was sad again, and I texted him asking whether it was him. He waited half an hour to reply with a soulless “Huh?” That I had to apologise for disturbing his “peace” and not making sense (to be loved is to be known); that I was very conscious of what the distance has done to us; that I said I was sorry for invading his whatsapp privacy when really I meant I was sorry for everything. Did he catch that? << or >> Was he glorifying the moment of my defeat? ‘cause I was defeated, drowning in my own tears, to which he’d say, it’s not that deep.
I was sad a lot, and every time I’d reach for the phone to text him, I’d write long rambling sentences about all the things I should have said, but only phrased in the shower or at yoga, never in the moment. Was he sad a lot too? << or >> Was that him not giving up the joy? The joy of singlehood. Funny, 'cause when I asked how he felt about me, he said, “Don’t you know? We spend our weekends together” - and those Wednesdays when we’d f*ck during our lunch break. Now it just feels like a warning sign I missed on purpose - at some point, he would want his weekends back, whole weeks.
I was so afraid of finding out that he had moved on that I actually vanished - or was I driven away? Hence, in some universe we are still friends, but in all honesty, what kind of friendship is that if you’re still sad? Ever since then, he’s been avoiding me like the plague. As if he knew. He must have (we are only as blind as we want to be). How else would you explain that he took his weekends back? The Wednesdays too.
When they leave, you stay and grow out your hair.
The last 3 letters of the spring
Just call it what you want.
-
-
Where are you going
now that the kids are sleeping
and the boys are cheating on themselves?
Is the yearning fading
‘cause the hell is burning?
I might miss your face, yk.
Had you seen the lights dimming
when the hope was shrinking;
when the week was ending and the month, and then the year?
I heard the glasses clinking
almost there
there forever
there to feed all the hungry ferals?
Had it mattered?
There is no way to know
now that the lights are blinking
and all your shades are slinking
I didn't even notice but
there I was
there I was
drowning
sinking
there I was
inking
pointless words in senseless quotes
Had he noticed I was falling backwards?
Choking on my own hope.
Had he noticed I was slipping
on my own thoughts?
She never missed a thing, she said
he’d waste the love
for all the scrunchies of the world.
Is the yearning lasting
‘cause the heaven's freezing? -
So when you said that you loved me too
and when I said that I didn't want to see you anymore
and when I said that I wasn't your friend
and when I said that you weren't allowed to remember me
and when you said that you needed out
and the urgency of it, made me cry, you cried too
and when we looked at each other without saying anything
and when you said that you didn't want to kiss me
that you didn't even want to touch me
and when I said that I was so very scared
and you said you couldn't help me
so, please know
in that very moment all the bridges burnt
with a brief flame wavering like a light blinking
whispering weary hatred
we were
mirroring each other's shame
outshining the bigger picture
and when I said that I was so very angry
and you said you couldn't change it
I had taken all the blame and turned into ashes
rain
stardust
who cares
by the time it reached you, it was already dead
Please miss me a little more so I can miss you a little less -
Everyone you know is going through something
Everything you know is lost
Everyone you know is losing someone
either a stranger or themselves
It does happen on a random Thursday, and it does hurt like a son of a bitch
It is the blood. It bleaches, and
It's the cotton that's bleached.
It wasn't a greeting
It wasn't a “lovely seeing you too”
It was
If my skin has touched your skin
smattering a soulless form
It was
the last one of us, still standing, you poor thing, keep bleeding
maybe it’s worth dying for, or
bother to tell the difference if it didn’t matter
It was
all of me remembers the howling, and
all the feral dogs
scared
It wasn't a brief greeting
rather a softening gasp of the once children
by the look at their steps, shrinking
walking homeward cold
and defeated -
It’s nice to dream about the hypothetical kids and hypothetical advice I’d give them
I want the hypothesises not the children
didn’t you hear? I am shallow -
my eyes are red and swollen from all the leather tears I’ve forced on you
skilfully pretending my intentions were good
I’ve mastered lying when I was six - he told me to keep quite
nobody had to know how much he “cared” -
it was top secret, so it “thrived” between us
my arms - a cage, a warm brown, pale yellow token of love
my words - a trap
scheming the fastest way to get under your skin when you only wanted to be free
my legs - a deceptive snare, not open, concealed, patiently waiting to use you as bait
my home - my home is sweet like the deadly nightshade
I bite, tear the layers of your deeds with my teeth, I bite
my lips - your lips poison
my inner thighs
oh well
you wouldn’t remember
didn’t you hear? She's the best and I am crazy! how dare you be honest
how dare you shed your leather tears
I know you’ve mastered lying when you were six
I could use a wise, safe mother right about now if I may -
tell me lies
pretty ones
like the dress I was wearing on that random summer evening
I remember thinking
oh god, this man, this man is going to be it
(I tried to sell it on Vinted)
tell me lies
shiny ones
like my long black hair - I got a new haircut today (something big is about to happen)
I remember seeing it all written on your face
oh god, this girl, this girl is going to be it
tell me lies
veracious!
I left because, well
because of him - don’t worry, he doesn't know who you are, he built Legos and played house with me
In my diaries he’s saved me; in the Real World he said I was not the one
tell me lies
silly ones
I haven’t called because you haven’t called
I wanted to, but then, then I, because, well - I heard
In my diaries you were building Legos and playing house
In the Real World I remember fantasizing about you fantasizing about me
oh god, it's on me from now on
It's always going to be on me
I needed your soul, you fucking asshole
be sad, go mad, punch a wall
feel something!
We loved each other, didn’t we (?)
You can’t really sell that on Vinted, can you?
Some Polish chick, vgkds14, was her name, spent hours haggling over it
She said I should better keep it; nobody wants my stupid cursed dress anyway -
I need a wise serious man to tell me what to do
I need a mother
A scholar
Someone who knows the truest truth
I need someone else to carry my death for me
Tell me Please
Am I going to make it? Make…what? You are stuck in it like the rest of us.
I need the other cheek to stop turning
I need the paint to stop staining
all of the days we have left
If I knew I'd be sinking now I would have never…Never what? Never kissed his closed eyes? Never cooked him dinners? Never watched him slowly falling out of love with you?
Fawning
Scrolling through
all the tarot readings
Go deeper
Do not think you aren't faking
all the distance inwards—another way of escaping the closest you’ll ever get to God.
I need to know what's underneath
His colours weren't really colourful
It's either this or
life is a black and white dump show playing pretend might need a wise serious man to tell me otherwise
Can I please
be wrong
this time
‘cause I swear there is nothing left to say
It was the realest thing—you do not leave the ones you love -
5:
Gray sky washing over months of living
slowly dying really
truly insane
but let's not think about tomorrow
the future’s bright for those who aren't ready
A man in a white shirt, looking familiar; didn't see his face watching from above; pictured a sharp jawline under his umbrella
Breadcrumbs on my sweater sticking up for closure—what does that even mean? Is this really over? Okay.
18:13 almost 14 I should head off to yoga. Can I please “accidentally” run into you? Can I please
Ugly building across the street. We had drinks there once—espresso martinis. I couldn't sleep until the morning. You said it was my fault. I am obviously not talking about the martinis
4:
My chest squeezed like a lemon over greenish leaves in a summer salad
Weight in my head
unbearable
uncaring
The last thing I wanted was to get hurt, but it hurts
tell me how it makes no sense for me to feel this way
My glasses
keeping it all together as if I had a choice; Where does the guilt feel in your body?
3:
The wind howling in the narrow space between the panels of this office window
The quiet voice now screaming it's all your fault how dare you think you’re innocent. You must be perfect to be loved, but even then it's all dismissive “you are making yourself cry”
The tram
2:
Someone's lunch
Cheap replicas of le labo matcha 26 everywhere
1:
Fear -
I didn't go outside for eight months (tomorrow) didn't realise how long it’s been since I left the you of me between the realms they love to joke, it's where them the trolls live Bet it's funny bet it's rude to scream even are we? I heard you went and searched for all those things were missing I heard You went, and sold all the life was given They said it's been 8 months, and counting the way you make your bed, and go to work, and search for all those things that aren't things but more yet never sleep, and never dream you never seem to find them anywhere Somehow it shows Sometimes it's rude I bet it's funny now the way I knew: It's always getting quieter before the storm you haven't closed the door you do that now It's where the trolls are they don't forgive they do remember you
-
I remember the night I died to wonder
the darkness has been taking over since then
like a bastard child
craving for a father’s favor
bless me
father
he would beg
bless me
father
I’m your only child
see me
lend me your ear
have me yours
over and over
one day in, and
one day out
and then stop
like a little boy scared of the neighbor's dog
barking at me with all its fury
suddenly
at nothing, and
without warning
I see I smell I taste
open! I am here...downstairs
the blinds closed, the cotton soothing shelter, and the silk
I can hear your voice "I need to see your face"
Is there something left to say?
I see I smell I taste
The last 3 letters of the spring 