I think I finally understand the word unconditional– because when you look at me, I forget where you begin and I end, and there was never a time when I wasn’t as much a part of you as you are of me. I want to live in that moment forever, and I know, as long as we stand side by side, I can.
He says “I will devour you.”
And his smile glints with the malice of all the times he’s kept that promise.
She looks straight into the depths of fatality and leaps anyway.
(she’s alone come morning, absent even a heartbeat).
And when you ask me if I love you, I want to tell you that I miss the color of your eyes– but that’s a half-truth in a world of lies.
I still don’t know how to say:I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.
You can map the sprawl
of city life in the twist of
veins beneath my skin,
trace my blood flow like the shifting of the earth.
The rhythm in my chest matches
the beat of your wanderlust; the blaze of
lights and the familiar hum of crowded streets.
The oceans in my eyes are nothing
compared to the constellations
on my lashes, the curve of the
mountains in my smile.
Nature is attached to the very breath from
my lungs, the heady scent of earth and
rain clinging to my fingertips.
I am a crystal clear day.
I am a thunderstorm.
You just press kisses to
my rivers and valleys,
whether violently raging
or eerily calm.
your head rests against the branches
of my heart, your arms entangle in
the roots that span my ribcage.
(I can’t help but wonder:
are you in love with the metropolis
that sings beneath your hand or the girl?)
I keep racking my brain, trying to figure out the best way to rid myself of you. There have been countless words, unending tears, random boys and girls, and more heartbreak than I thought possible since I left your life.
History has always been a hard thing for me to walk away from. And although we were together for such a short time, you’ve been a part of me since before, before this beginning, before this life.
I always focus on the wrong thing when it comes to you. The wrong moment in time. As soon as I start thinking about the beginning, it’s already ending.
That’s the thing about history; it can deceive you. It’s so easy to get caught up in the way the past connects you. It’s so easy to become blind to the way the present is tearing you apart. I think I always knew how we were going to end, the quiet strangle of our demise. After all, how could it have ended any other way?
I was always going to walk away.
You were always going to be the better person.
What I didn’t predict or expect was just how hard I would fall for you, how deep the rabbit hole would go. I never expected to give you all of me. I have grown in that absence, grown hard, grown weary. I forgot how to love after you. You left a fissure so large I separated. You took something from me, you took my love and my trust.
I wonder, every day, if you ever loved me. Did I mean anything to you at all?
It doesn’t matter. I’ve been looking at this wrong the whole time. I don’t need to move on from you, I need to move forward from the girl that loved you. I need to let go of the pieces of myself that I let you infect. I need to cut myself down, until I can rebuild myself. I need to completely dismantle myself and start from scratch. I need to carve out the heart that learned your rhythm. But even knowing what I need to do, even with you worlds away and back to a better place, I don’t want to lose you completely. (I can’t lose you, because you never mine to lose. You were never mine).
I know that someday my logic will rule out over my emotion. I know that someday this fresh new scar will bloom into a new person, that this pain is just the healing itch.
I gave you all of me. And I want to thank you for taking me. I have no regrets.
I hope you’re really happy. Because I’m going to be.
i’m just waiting for you to tell me
all the ways love isn’t enough.
i don’t think i’d blame you.
after all, i was the one who ate the apple;
you were just the man that loved me
without knowing what love was.
see the fruit in my hand and remember
adam and eve. persephone and hades.
remember the ways that I betray you,
remember my fascination with the snake in the grass,
remember that I am just a girl with pomegranate lips
and I will continue to poison you.
we are the same constellation in the sky,
but i am just a nebula and you are still
living, breathing, existing; you are
light entering my eyes–
we exist within the same sphere,
we are already a billion light years
and a whole galaxy apart.
Why does the beginning always feel like the end?
every breath you take is just foreshadowing the moment your lungs cease.
every beat of your heart is a beat closer to slowing.
every word from your mouth might be the last to touch your lips.
when you touch my skin I feel like a dying star, moments away from supernova.
when you enter my bloodstream, I feel the way my pulse changes to accommodate you.
why does it feel like every time we’re ending, we’re just breaths away from the next heartbeat?