I just feel restricted by the human body. So many imposed limits, so fragile you can feel every injury no matter how slight. What other creature can be incapacitated by stubbing one toe? None. What other organism can send itself into a flurry of anxiety and fear by simply considering future events? None. We can make ourselves sick by thought. We’re weak, thin skinned, and helpless. The only time we do not feel so vulnerable is with extreme jolts of adrenaline and heightened senses; but this only comes at the instinctual “fight or flight” scenario that many never feel in their entire lives. I’m not certain what I’m comparing this to, I don’t claim to have experienced any other forms, but deep down I feel a severe disconnect with the petty chores we spend every moment completing; such loathsome activities we refer to as “errands”. I don’t like it in here. I want a different form. I want out of this weak and codependent body. I want out of this stupid society, it’s an absurdity in all the animal kingdom. Humans. Painted, essentially useless, flighty thinkers. I cannot exist on my own and neither can you. If one of us did scratch it out and survive, we would be very different indeed. “Animalistic”, “wild”. “Crazy”. For being capable of feeding ourselves. I’m not sorry, I’d rather be the latter. But once again, I’m a human product of “Western” society. I can’t even walk somewhere without shoes on. I will die without clothing. I need society and I don’t want it. Irony. On the internet. Also very human.
Someone holds you for the first time in a long time and you are bound to think it is true love. The thing that it takes years to learn is that isn’t anything close to love. Love happens when they aren’t holding you.
It happens when they are washing dishes while whistling pop songs, or chewing on the end of a pen doing the crossword, or falling asleep in a chair reading a book. It is stories told in the dark, at 3 AM with your eyes closed. It is hating the way they say your name when you are fighting, how they tell you everything can be fixed when you are convinced it can’t.
Love is what happens when you aren’t touching but your heart still swells for them like a wave in a storm. Love is what happens during all the moments you blink.
As women, we are taught to be tiny. To have small bodies, to never be imposing. The ideal of our gender are thin and childlike, hairless and dainty. We are defined by our bodies; defined by our control over them. We are taught to obsess over our physicality and to be repulsed by our desires and intelligences. We are taught to walk scared late at night. We cradle our keys between our perfectly manicured fingers, walking gracefully like a baby antelope in a herd of lions. That our virginity defines our character. That I am a frigid bitch if I do not fuck him, and a dirty slut if I do.
Everyone keeps asking me
what I’m doing with myself,
how I’m passing the time,
what I’m doing with my legs now
that they’re not swinging on the
train to your place.
I am waiting for you to come back to me, that’s what I’m doing.
I am waiting for you to pick up the phone
and call me.
I am pulling teeth.
I am plucking them one by one
and trying to forget what they looked
like pressed into your shoulder
or clinging to your neck.
The truth was an ugly thing
that I kicked out of our bed,
only to watch it climb back in
and take you from me.
I think you’re a coward
for letting it.
I think I could have loved you
better than anybody,
and I can’t stop making lists
of all the times I almost told you that.
That’s what I’m doing.
I’m twisting our story until
it stops remembering you
just so I can sleep at night.
But I’ll always be here,
hands like a broken record that skips
at the sleepless night before you
crawled back into yourself for good.
Just know that I’ve been waiting.
Know that you’re the first time I ever
swallowed my pride and then spit
it back up.
I hope you remember what your
bed felt like with me laying
honest in it.
That is what brave looked like.
Go inside and listen to your body, because your body will never lie to you. Your mind will play tricks, but the way you feel in your heart, in your guts, is the truth.
In one moment I was feeling everything and I was feeling nothing.
There are some things in life that don’t go the way you want them to or the way you think they should, but you can’t dwell on these because you’ll miss out on other opportunities. Don’t give up one something just because you don’t think things will work, you won’t know unless you give it a try. But don’t hold onto something that left a long time ago, because sooner or later you’ll realize some things just aren’t meant to be.
Stop. You can’t love me because you’re lonely, or because I am the only one who doesn’t piss you off. I want to piss you off, I want to get on your fucking nerves. I don’t want the responsibility of always being your rock. I will try, but I’m a mess, too. I lie, I sleep too much and I don’t like children under the age of 6, really. I don’t even know if I want kids because I’m selfish, and mothers can’t be selfish once they decide to carry another life. I’m always looking for the rain to come so I trip over my own feet. I know exactly what the air smells like before a storm. Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that I cry a lot because it feels good, and I masturbate at least 4 times a week, and you might fall out of love with me before either of us are ready for it. I have no experience with this. I’m trying to be brave and smart but its almost impossible to be both at the same time. You can’t love me like a fire escape. Sometimes I will be the match, or the smoke under the door. I don’t know what I’m doing, all I know is that we all catch fire sometimes, before we even get warm. Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that there’s a 50% chance that this won’t work, that one of us will wind up hating the other. I will try to keep your head above water, but sometimes I’ll need help, too. I can’t be your savior, and I don’t expect you to be mine. Just watch me unfold and I’ll watch you unfold, too. We’ll get drunk and tell each other everything. I know that’s cheating but maybe it’ll be alright. Maybe we won’t wake up embarrassed. I am going to fall in love with you, too, feet first. Maybe we’ll slow dance off a building together, maybe we’ll have forgotten each other’s names by this time next year. I don’t care, the sky is gray with or without you, so I’m not going to look up anymore, I’m going to look ahead.
Don’t you dare, for one minute,
believe that my kindness makes me
anything but insurmountable.
I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
and stagger back, wounded and alive,
just to hear you call me weak for trying.
I opened my door to Heartache—
I gave her the fucking key.
My softness for wayward strangers
has made me nothing less
than a halfway house for aching soles.
So when you open your mouth
and call me ‘baby’
understand that I am not your next victim
in a laundry list of broken girls.
You think I don’t know you? People like you?
People with mouths for hands.
I’ve got skin like topsoil
and your teeth could never take root.
So when you go looking to make a plaything
of a sunburst,
you better look for someone with less fire
Because softness or no,
I will eat you alive
before I let you make a meal of me.
There’s like a million different ways to say “I love you”
“put your seat belt on”
“watch your step”
“get some rest”
..you just gotta listen
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