I do not want you at my funeral. i hope you find out on accident, i hope they bar you at the door, you do not get to say a final goodbye to me. i will leave the earth the same way you wanted us to live on it, strangers.

I think we’re both like homing pigeons, you’re my home base and i think i’m yours too. for better or for worse, there’s always a road back to you, and there’s always a way back to me.

I think the thing that hurts me the most is how much i would have loved you, with everything, it would’ve been a different life i think, if you had loved me back. I could see a future with you, i didn’t want you to be an experience, i wanted you for good, for keeps.

The sad songs done hurt, the love songs do

Mom, please come back, please reach to the backseat and check that i’m still right here. please carry me to bed, i am so tired. Mom where did you go, why can’t you love me. are my hands too dirty, i swear i’ll wash them before dinner. Am i talking to loudly, am i crying too much? I’ll quiet down, i’ll stop if you’d just hold me. mom i need you, i didn’t mean to grow too big, i didn’t mean to stray too far from the little girl i was, i promise she’s still somewhere here, i’ll dig up her grave, I’ll find her, please it’s me mom.

is she sweet like me? is she the same flavor of red wine as me? is she loud like me? crazy and unpredictable? Does she laugh like me or cry like me? is she anything like me? she couldn’t love you like me, she isn’t me.

i want to curl up and sleep, i want to become the falling autumn leaves.

i am still just a little girl inside this body. i go to work, i do the laundry and the dishes. i cry, i can’t feel anything, i drive around and listen to the same three songs, she still lives inside of my skin, we share one beating heart, let’s go ride bikes or play in the dirt instead of worrying and trying to live this life the right way

how long have you prayed to be loved? how scarred are your knees, how sticky with honeyed wine are your finger tips? how raw is your throat, how ruined are you?

μια κραυγή στο κενό, μια ερώτηση που δεν πρέπει να κάνουμε, το κενό κοιτάζει πίσω, άδειο, ήταν αρκετό; αγάπη μου, τι θα γινόταν αν ήταν πάντα;

Και με ρώτησαν

Με ρώτησαν για εσενα , σου λείπει;

Τι να απαντήσω ;

Απαντησα μου λείπει να χαμογελάω

Δεν ξέρω αν ήταν αρκετο

Δεν ξέρω τι είναι το αρκετο

Ξέρω παντως πως αυτό δεν υπήρξε ποτέ μαζί σου ζητούμενο

_κανένας_

Η αγάπη θα παραμένει πάντα

“nothing ends poetically. it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was was never once beautiful, it was just red. “

no, no, it was beautiful tho wasn’t it? it wasn’t always red, it was pink when i kissed him, and blue when i missed him. it was purple in the mornings i turned to him, and sunrise orange when i met his friends and family. it was yellow when he talked about his favorite things. it may have turned the most striking red i’ve ever seen, ever felt, but it wasn’t always that way. it sits now a pale white, scared over with the lessons, from the healing.

i hold the sorrow so very close

-(six word love story )

i wake from my slumber, kissing your cheek, your jawline, your lips, gazing at you still sound asleep and loving you with my whole being, with my existence, the air isn’t oxygen and carbon dioxide, it’s love, i put it there, it’s passion and care, and determination to love you and the air around you, to turn it into a shell of love that will protect you from this world. you will not be alone, you will not be alone. i will be there, here, i will hold you like the air kissing your skin, i will not leave, even when i am gone. breathe it in, breathe in the love and know, know in your blood that i am here.

Thinking about that knowing look between women, you know, the one when you’re with him, and you’re gazing at him and the world stops, and you are feeling with every cell in your being, then you look away and find your best friends eyes, and the world hasn’t started up again yet, it pauses for this moment too. you do that soft smile at her to let her know. yes i love him says the look, i have fallen, shh, it’s a secret between us, he doesn’t know just yet, although it’s written on my face as clear as the tattoos on my skin.

I’m sobbing in the kitchen floor

you’re prying my hands away from my eyes

please you say, baby please

what’s wrong, what’s wrong

And then you’re holding me

if i could go back to this night i think i would

i need you to be holding me now

nobody is ripping my hands away

nobody is holding me

and even if they are

it’s not you

your flashlight flicks from corner to darkened corner, inspecting this new place, closed books covered in dust, a shelf (empty now) , there is a wretched and ugly thing here aswell. You flee the cavern as it approaches. I, however, stand still. disappointing. oh so slowly, I sit onto the cold floor, my floor. i begin to read an old story, (one of his) my beating heart curls up in my lap. wretched as it is, it is mine.