Surprise

You think that you were hurting me,

but I promise I was letting you.

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Could be strong like the moon

But we burn like the sun.

Washed into the ocean in waves

Buried alive in the sand.

I want you to be a part of me, so much so that without you breathing would be like breathing under water, but instead I feel your hands wrapped around my neck; breathing fire down my back, widening the holes where many before you have stabbed me before…

How many times can I say that I want this chaos to be peaceful?

That I know how to win the war but I choose to let you succeed in complaining, sitting quietly?

Mhm…

Look up baby
Because I am watching you and not the television screen
Reading you like a book written in sign language
Playing it safe until I know that you’re ready for me
Taking notes of poetry each time you doubt the kind of love you’ve received…

The expectation of perfection only pulls me in; my kiss to your lips are laced with flavors of your past sins, I want to drive you crazy so you learn the real meaning of love without boundaries…

I do it all to watch you squirm…

Day 1- cab ride from the airport -I10

 

NEW ORLEANS, LA- HALLOWEEN, 2015

FLYING AWAY FROM SAN DIEGO

SAN DIEGO IS SO BRIGHT. THE SUN SHINES EVEN WHEN THE RAIN IS FALLING, THE PEOPLE ARE WASTING AWAY INTO SOCIAL MEDIA MADNESS. BUT, I CAN APPRECIATE THE BLESSINGS THAT ARE BEYOND THE WORLDLY MADNESS.
I PUT MY PHONE INTO MY BAG AND LOOK OUTSIDE OF MY PLANE WINDOW…TIME TO SEE BEAUTY, SEE THE UGLY, AND REMINISCE ABOUT THE POWER OF BOTH.

 

 

As we rise on the highway 10 towards hotel ste helene, I look at the superdome and feel an immediate sense of sad nostalgia. Just a few years ago there were victims of nature floating across misplaced bodies of water, anonymous in name but at one point someone’s child, parent, sibling. I close my eyes and imagine this place looking like a third war country, torn into bits and pieces with humans lying around and an entire earth of people surrounding them to offer very little assistance. Hotel Katrina and Louisiana, I come to visit you, and I can still feel the pain.

Proverbial paradox

I don’t even know who you are.
After a year has passed, and multiple clashes have existed between us, the same question plagues me like a mental illness. Who are you?

I can put together vague descriptions, a puerile yet beautiful human playing reprisals as if it were a game of chess, never understanding that I had given up a long time ago, standing by idly and waiting for the light bulb to turn on above your head…surely that would be the expectation since you’re still around me begging for another chance to redeem your questionable behavior, after the initial feeling of anger I laugh at our relationships nature, we are -nowhere- near the same, our differences so drastic that I am surprised that we have even last as long as we did, our issues an epitome of lesbian stereotypes, placing ourselves in the center of a proverbial paradox- suffering in this relationship of a pseudo love to say that we have a lover, yeah I know…it confuses me too.

I thought that I wanted answers, but I don’t. I thought that…maybe a little more time would address what didn’t make sense inside of me, how chemistry could seem so promising but really it has always been me promising myself that I wouldn’t have to be alone again mentally, that the void previously filled so sporadically would soon be a distant memory, along with the many other things that have hurt me, but no…I was wrong about this one too. Now, I miss those lonely days because at least they were not angry, they weren’t questioning…every move of the person laying next to me, I didn’t care and that is a beautiful feeling, one that is misunderstood and taken lightly.

Oh well. Back to the basics, right?

K

3 pills in

I’ve forgotten that I had to breathe just like the rest of them. That, I had to live just not like the rest of them. Never happy, just surviving. Unaware of what is the best of me. It is Friday, 9:33 pm. 3 pills in and I am waiting for my head to start spinning, For my heart to stop racing, slow pace it’s way back to human speed

I am far from a being. Or yet maybe a being with anxiety so ritualistic that it’s like my chest has dubstep on repeat… waiting for the unknown moment anxiously. To get away from this feeling because it is destroying all things around me.