i ever experience,

then i am thankful for that.

ONE DAY I WILL BE PROUD OF WHAT ALL THIS PAIN HAS MADE

a part of me

is always going to

love you.

and

it’s the part of me

i hate most about myself.

corpse-watcher

this is not an apology,

but,

you know,

i let us rot after you left

and that was really fucked up.

i watched our love

fall apart and collapse in

on itself

and never buried the body.

i just let it sit for months

and wondered why anybody

would let something so alive

and so beautiful die.

i never wondered why anybody

would decide to not give it

a proper funeral

because i was the one deciding

not to give it a proper funeral.

this is not an apology

by any means

for what i did with the corpse

you left.

you

left me

a corpse.

a shell of something that once beat

and breathed and moved,

a shell of something that once

loved you so much it forgot itself—

i forgot myself.

so yeah,

maybe i should have buried us

when i had the chance to grieve

in a normal way

but the way i loved you wasn’t normal

and the way you broke me wasn’t either so

i watched a corpse rot

and i can still taste your mouth

and i’m not sorry for this.

i’m not sorry for this.

i’m not sorry for this.

some version of stockholm

i am no longer in a place

that lets me think of you

and that feels

wrong

i have forgotten how to

blink

breathe

speak

sleep

without first wondering

what you’d say about it

and now i am retraining

myself to just

be

to exist in a way

that does not ask you first

i am no longer in a place

that lets me think of you

and it’s

right

i just don’t know what

that feels like

anymore

i am staring at a cracked door

i ask myself,

how many times have i been here,

in this exact spot?

how many times have i stared this moment

in the face?

how many times have i walked away;

how many times have i told myself

i wasn’t ready to let this go?

and what has that gotten me?

a two-ton grudge and a mountain of bitterness,

and not one ounce of understanding.

not one sliver of closure.

i ask myself,

was this worth it?

was trying to find an answer that didn’t wish to be found

worth it?

i think this time, i’ll close the door.

maybe some questions are better left

unanswered.

small-mouthed love

i am not the girl if you want a small-mouthed love. i love big

and open, wide and swallowing. you could pluck promises from

between my teeth. my heart will crawl out of my throat and fall

into your lap. it will curl up there and stay, always coming back

no matter how many times you push it off. i am not the girl if you