wildfire

set me ablaze is what you did to me,
fired up my insides until they shrivelled up and crumbled
like a smoldering house of cards.

i guess this is what happens
when you stare straight into the light
you take the sun home with you
until it melts straight through your chest.

and i know you said liked the sparks
whenever your hands lit up a cigarette
but you didn't have to burn me to the ground
to prove it.

i guess i should have looked away from the start
instead of letting you so near my eyes
or maybe your parents should have put a warning label on you

caution: burns through hearts like wildfire.

ex

i'm nineteen years old, but you bring out the child in me some days

  1. when we speak you mention names foreign to me, 

       inside jokes i don't understand.

  2. your bedroom wall is covered in photos of people holding you,
      of smiles so wide they could crack your face right open.

  3. i'm no longer your profile picture.

  4. you tell me no one compares to me, to what we've gone through.
      i tell you i feel the same. i do.

  5. i feel like maybe you're lying to me.

  6. i only talk to you during the day because at night i feel like i'm made of porcelain,
      one word from you might be the hit i need to break into a thousand pieces.

  7. i love you, more than anything i've ever loved.

  8. i'm putting my seatbelt on, bracing for a crash.
      you're going to realize there's people worth more than me.

  9. (don't, don't, don't)

  10. i hope you know, because i don't have the energy to tell you.

i'm trying to be a grownup about this, but the truth is
          i'm just jealous, and annoying,
          and afraid of losing you.

life in a jar

shame is the silence when she asks you

what you've done in the five weeks you haven't spoken.

i got dressed, you want to say,

took a shower every day and didn't forget to eat.

i raised my hand in class once, didn't stutter. andsometimes,

sometimes i wore a dress with high heels underneath,

walked with my head held so high,

i felt like royalty.

 

but i haven't seen the sunset while someone held my hand,

and i can't remember the last time a boy kissed me.

and most of the time, i'm so tired

breathing feels like a full-time job i'm just not good at.

 

so there's the truth in a five-second pause, in a laugh

and a shrug and a little white lie.

so there's the shame, the shame in running out of words,

realising you've been living in an airtight jar, and not knowing how to explain

 

 

the whole world seems so big from down here.

 

antinous

do not let him catch you staring
because in your face he might read
your sleepless nights,
hear the prayers of the days where it gets so dark
you try to believe in anything
other than cracked glass
and nicotine.

do not let your looks wander,
because he will see the truth
in the shadows beneath your eyelids
he will hear the telltale slur in your words
slip up and call him a god to his face
(he will not remember,
he will not, he will not remember
you.)

he is a figure of light,
a creature of good and truth
and like an oil spill,
you will rob him off his shine
eventually.

do not let him see you stare
if he sees, he will know
you would bleed for him,
die for him.
(and you will,
you will.)

but he will never look your  way,
like a magnet he sticks to the worthy
polishes his words on the brave and willing
and like an anchor that pulls a ship to shore
your hands cling to a bottle again
and again.


here's another drink to last the night,
without him, a drink to keep it
all at bay.

break, broke, broken

when i came home that night

i broke a mirror.

picked it off my bedside

and smashed it.

i did it so i didn't have to

face myself again

but i ended up seeing myself

everywhere, scattered around

the floor.

it's not the first time

i tried to set my flaws on fire

and ended up sitting

on the burns

i've often reached for my own

happy ending, but ended up

snapping my wrists and

breaking my nails.

so tape my hands to my back

and glue my knees together

because maybe if i don't move

i won't break and if i don't break

i'll be able to breathe without

bringing the mountains down.

van god los

keten je vast en door de gaten zul je wegglippen

de dood werkt zo, weet ik nu, tussen de regels in

van god los -- en het neemt je naar plekken

waar ik je niet kan volgen.

schreeuwen, huilen, in tweeën scheuren

laat me niet alleen - smeken

maar mijn toestemming heb je niet nodig

en gister liet je het me weten

met je ogen, in de donkere stilte

laat me gaan, het is wel mooi zo,

je kunt zonder mij verder.

it's 4 am and i need you to tell me you're alive

listen,

i know she’s the one for you

and there’s romance in a girl

who doesn’t look over her shoulders.

a sort of magic to the way

she leaves you behind,

and comes to find you when

she’s deemed you worthy again.

listen, i know she’s everything

you’ve ever dreamed of having

but it’s been four years and i’m

tired of picking up your pieces

while you crush mine, chasing after

her shadows.

i know when i said no,

you stopped listening.

but it didn’t stop me from

speaking and worrying

wondering if tonight

is the last time i see you.

ashes to ashes

a peculiar thing, grief

has a way of catching you off-guard.

i really thought i was okay today

but when i shut the door behind me

and sought you out in the blur

i was blindsided by the silence 

that wrapped around my shoulders

like a thick blanket of ash.

i was doing fine just minutes ago

and i felt like i had your face locked away

(safe from harm -- and mostly, safe from me)

but now, now i just feel stabbed in the back

by your memory and the gaping hole

that you left when your body burnt up

all the love you'd stored for me.

a peculiar thing, grief

manages to slip out of your hands

straight back into your heart

right when you thought you had it handled.

blaze