Muse

Every poem, story, and thought is based on my life. 100% true, and 100% mine. Welcome to my diary.

There’s nothing poetic in the way his hands grip your wrists until they’re blue and raw and the room feels like it’s spinning, there’s nothing beautiful in his angry red eyes that cut you straight in half, there’s nothing lovely about the holes in the walls of his bedroom, but you love him still, you love him even when he’s screaming, even when everything he says feel like knives in your chest, and you hate yourself for it, you hate yourself for the way you love him even when all he ever does is hurt you, you hate yourself for loving that pain.

I know it’s not important anymore, I know it was short lived and too fast and too perfect to be true, but I will never forget the way you made me feel like I was living in a storm, how you kissed me like you and I had the last set of lips on the planet and they desperately needed to be used, I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but I still love you.

To the first boy who sounded too much like home:
I’m sorry that I slept with you on the first night that I met you,
I’m sorry that I pulled your arms around me and inhaled the scent of your cologne deeply, it brings back memories,
I’m sorry that I look the other way when you walk by,
I’m sorry that you aren’t him,
I’m sorry that I am not her,
I’m sorry that we used each other to fill the gaps that we left in another state, that we left with a painful goodbye, that we left with too many pieces of ourselves,
I’m sorry that you’re everything I miss and nothing that I want,
I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more for you.

Feeling homesick :(

Time is a terrible thing to waste on boys with mouths that kiss sweetly and spit fire when they’re angry, boys who use their hands to caress your cheeks or punch the wall beside your head, life’s too short to spend another moment feeling lost and confused and waiting for him to snap.

Sometimes we let poisonous people back into our lives because they remind us of times when we had stability or loyalty or love or something that we miss, and even though we know that these people are toxic we reach out to them because they offer us some type of comfort or remnants of the past, sometimes we just find it too hard to move on.

burnthepromise asked: wow i love your poetry, you're so talented

Thank you so much :)

Sometimes when I was kissing you I’d imagine that my mouth was wrapped around the barrel of a pistol and at any moment you could choose to pull the trigger and ruin my lips for anyone else forever; see that’s the trouble in loving a hand gun boy, you can hold them so easily, but you’ll always be afraid for the day they go off, and you’ll always be afraid that you want them to do it.

The truth about you did not come easy,
You were the boy with an electric smile who made me laugh until my ribs ached, I could feel your touch through my whole body, you were my first, my passion, my muse,
To you, I was just something to pass the time, something to keep your hands busy and your nights booked,
That’s why when you left, you slammed the door and never looked back. I still hear it in my sleep.

I like the way I can always make the smoke stings my lungs and the liquor warm my belly without it ever getting too complicated, I can feel whole and numb and fucked up with a little self medication and absolutely none of you.