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
The last 3 letters of the spring
Just call it what you want.
-
-
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 -
It's been one of those days that you wouldn't remember years later
Funny how sometimes life is
All the important dates seem to blur in one full, dry sentence
It's been so long, like it never happened
but it
did. -
yellow flowers in my vase losing petals Was it so hard to say: I am sorry, I want you back I was always ashamed of my imagination The blueprint—my father He was a lonely child visibly annoyed whenever I'd refuse to be one reality of two It was you and me Is it too late to be stating the obvious? Tell me, child, what does that teach you?
falling in reverse as if I were that man who once promised her the world as if I were the butterflies dying in her stomach the stomach you've laid your forehead on relying on the resilience of a woman’s womb
undervalued
I always knew that life would kill me, I just never thought it would take so long
Can I say something? How much rejection is there to swallow?
I know you miss it too. I know nobody does it like that
I know you were always ashamed of my special
gift
I know you know I am
no shitThe blueprint—my mother
She has always needed a parent of her own
visibly annoyed whenever I'd refuse to be oneWhat does that teach a child?
Everybody knows I've always loved the yellow flowers
-
It drives me crazy. He seemed honest. I don’t know anymore. What would you think? If one day you just randomly find a scrunchie on the “everything” shelf in your boyfriend’s apartment? Not yours. You never wear your hair tied up. I’d think the worst. Yes, I know, his friends stayed there…four months ago…and he has a cleaning lady coming every two weeks on Wednesdays. And ofc, ofc it is possible that one of them...but idk, something’s wrong. Yeah, I get it. It felt so real back then. I'd still think the worst. It smelled like really shitty shampoo, the cheap kind. Hair ties DO NOT reek of cheap shampoo unless recently worn. I keep telling myself that it was the cleaning lady, one of his friends, someone from before, but what kind of cleaning lady leaves behind scrunchies at work? Again, we can’t know for sure.
Well, there is more. We weren’t using anything. Like at all. After we came back from my “birthday trip” I noticed three condoms on that very “everything” shelf. They were always there, I just never paid attention to things like that. Seven days later, one of them was missing. Fuck. I am sorry. When I asked him whether he yk, when he’s yk alone—I mean, I get it nobody likes to get dirty, he said no.
Also, around that time, I remember there was blonde hair on his nightstand. It was a woman’s hair. I asked about his cleaning lady. Was she blonde? Yes, he said, I think so…I really didn’t want to know. I really didn’t want to know. Just lie to me, just lie. You really wanted that to work. He left two weeks after that.
Sometime between the “birthday trip” and the “condom story”, he went out with a coworker of his. I only noticed because it was my favorite bar that they went to. It was a completely different neighbourhood, thirty minutes away. Why would you bother to travel…thirty minutes…on two different lines…for a lousy ginger drink? Ginger—that’s the name of the bar. I said to myself it was nothing. I remember having that sinking feeling, like when I was seven or nine and mom said she hadn’t been crying, even though I’d heard the water running in the bathroom for half an hour. She changed the subject after that, exactly like him.
We tried to stay friends, yk. I tried. I remember once he said a guy from his office wasn't speaking to him anymore. This conversation happened in September, almost two years ago. I never thought much about it, but then in March he said he’d slept with someone from work, a marketing girl. He got unintentionally involved in a love triangle. He was innocent ofc. At least now we know why that random guy wasn’t speaking to him anymore.
Wait, there is more. I think it is the same girl. They met in the kitchen or maybe during the Christmas party. Went for drinks in my favorite bar, thirty minutes away by two different train lines. Casually. As friends. He was still with me, but yk he wasn’t ready. During THE TALK, he said he wanted to flirt; fuck around. He probably meant her. You don’t say stuff like that unless you have someone real in mind. Am I crazy, or does this actually make sense? This makes sense. It does. You’re not crazy. Not at all, it’s just deeply sad, tbh. I am so sorry.
Yeah. Me too.
Anyway, I am strongly convinced he dated her. This happened after we broke up, when we were trying to stay friends, when I was trying. I mentioned something about rewatching some lengthy show for the two hundredth time. Also, Doctor House, he said. I never watched Doctor House. He streamed Doctor House for someone else. She watched it from his bed, wearing his shirt, covering herself with my scent. We never finished watching Twin Peaks.
Now I get this burning feeling in my chest whenever I see Hugh Laurie on TV. No offense to Hugh Laurie’s face, but I’d avoid watching any of his shows. Unwittingly witnessing the fall of our love; mine. I was the whole relationship. He was just there.
-
Is it ok that I want to throw up when I look at old pictures of us? Is that normal? Is there someone to ask? I don’t even need an answer, only to ask Is it ok that I feel like being run over
When I get off at your stop? Inevitably pulling an Anna Karenina. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Except, you wouldn't understand what that means…I am the villain in both our stories. I am so sorry I am so sorry. Ofc ofc, come over, let's talk, let me tell you all of the whys, the whens, and the hows. Has it been the same for me? ofc, I am in hell on Thursdays, sobbing on the stupid sidewalk, crossing the street would mean giving up—I was never a runner I was never a runner, now I run I run.
Is it this bad for you, too? I need someone to tell me the truth—just this once, can you be honest? Is it this bad, or are you all liars? I am so sorry I am so sorry, the realer the threat, the redder the string. Am I a mastermind, or do you only avoid the ones you actually want? Cool cool. Can you relate to my platitudes? All the rushed thoughts, but make them sober. If I think about it, that’s deeper than Dante. It is not, but how would you know what that means?
Did it make you wanna throw up when I, when you, when she…did you cover your face with your hands? The face I loved, the hands I loved Remember November? Not just a random day, the entire month, yeah Remember the first time in my apartment? I was a love novel in another life. In this, I was I was something
With that in mind, may you burn in hell over nothing—we only have now. let's not do this let's not stay over
let's hope that's what loving is
It will go away sometime in October Will I hoard them in a pile of oldies, or or toss away the excitement? There is no reason to get angry - I never sent the birthday cards, btw, sorry for that
-
The way birds stop chirping The way even the forest freezes The way your home isn’t home anymore, but a jungle there is no way I am actually gone
I am still here, I am still here
They, the lost boys, are forever lonely one-time pass for the bygone meaning disclosure: If I tell you the truth, can you promise to keep it true?
And I might miss the mischievous young boy ‘cause all I needed to know I learned from your smile gold-coloured coin has missed its toss Would I draw the luck? Maybe in another life Peter Pan is finally growing up what the fuck is the actual difference?
The last 3 letters of the spring 