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.

14/05/15 02:14

ik verander mezelf nu in een oplossing

een antwoord op een vraag die je uit wanhoop aan de lucht stelt

met je handen in het haar, elke nooduitgang verkent 

en misschien raak ik mezelf wel op die manier kwijt

langzaam, stukje voor stukje, verwrongen en verkreukeld

tot zelfs jij me niet meer herkent. 

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.

 

nog even

kom, ik heb nu tijd
kom voor het te laat is
voor ik me het ergste ga bedenken
voor mijn hoofd me weer verraad

kom nu, snel
haast je, je kunt nu naar binnen glippen
me vast houden voor ik je naam weer vergeet
en het alarm weer aan wordt gezet

grijp je kans, ik smeek het je
want het is zo lang geleden
sinds we voor elkaar konden zitten
en ik je zag zoals je was.

nu kunnen we elkaar aanraken,
je bent nu geen roofdier,
ik zal me niet terugtrekken voor jou.
je zult me geen pijn doen.

haast je, want met de tijd glip je weg.
ik wil niet dat je gaat
kunnen we gewoon nog even zitten?
kun je me voor nu beloven
dat je me zult terughalen als het moet?
dat je zult blijven als ik zeg dat je moet gaan?

nu ben ik er nog, alsjeblieft,
blijf nog even.
blijf nog heel even.

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.