magnitude of rejection.

it was a stark realisation –
no magnitude of rejection
could outweigh –
not her body,
not her face,
not her laughter,
or intellect,
or humour,
or interests,
or skills;
in fact,
it was her love
they didn’t want.

it was too much,
it wasn’t enough,
it was too late,
it wasn’t the right time.

in fact, they didn’t want
to be loved by her.

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amore.

La la
La la la la
La la
La la la
I like your smile
I like your vibe
I like your style
But that’s not why I love you

And I, I like the way
You’re such a star
But that’s not why I love you
Hey
Do you feel, do you feel me?
Do you feel what I feel, too?
Do you need, do you need me?
Do you need me?

You’re so beautiful
But that’s not why I love you
I’m not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we’ve been through
And that’s why I love you

La la
La la la la
La la
La la la
I like the way you misbehave
When we get wasted
But that’s not why I love you
And how you keep your cool
When I am complicated
But that’s not why I love you

Hey
Do you feel, do you feel me?
Do you feel what I feel, too?
Do you need, do you need me?

Do you need me?

You’re so beautiful
But that’s not why I love you
And I’m not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we’ve been through
And that’s why I love you

Yeah – Oh.
Oh.

Even though we didn’t make it through
I am always here for you
Yeah, yeah, yeah

You’re so beautiful
But that’s not why I love you
I’m not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we’ve been through
And that’s why I love you

La la
La la la la (oh oh)
La la
La la la (That’s why I love you)

La la
La la la la (oh oh)
La la
La la la (That’s why I love you)

~ Avril.


paralysis.

it is a deep panicked paralysis
i can not move
yet staying still is torture.

how the moment
is yearned for,
but to be finally enveloped
fills me with disgust.

self-loathing is a cliche,
self-hatred is a given,
pour yourself into a glass
of milk and watch
the peasants drink.


innate.

i feel it pulling
[me] in;
is that how it is
for [you]?

not even
begging, but
knowing i will
surrender.

follow it,
feel it,
obsess and
crave the purge.

i can almost
feel the pain
before i embrace it;
almost etched
into my skin
before i collapse
into the sharp
embrace.

i envy
her willpower
and control.
i envy his
distortion.
i envy the complete
surrender
to a distinction
of control.

this innate;
this blood
that tears through me;
this tremor and
insatiable
imagination.


i n k.

i am giddy
with the thought:
pierce my skin,
release the ink –
again, again, again.

this addictive pain:
let them see it
saturate my bloody
and scar my skin –
again, again, again.

i am giddy
with the thought:
a secret life,
of torture and release and secrets –
again, again, again.

the spy lives on.


sunburn.

it happens
when you leave
yourself exposed:
one ray of light
– one image –
and then a harsh awakening
to the facts.

inescapable pain
and wounds
you can’t hide.
there is a shame attached –
you should have known
this would happen.

if only
i had taken
earlier advice;
heeded the warnings
and stayed away
from danger.

it happens
when you leave
yourself exposed:
betrayal and sunburn –
just one in the same,
right?


[o n e d a y] (ii).

in those days
you made me feel
so safe
and i let you
keep me warm.

these days
i beg the universe
to [one day]
allow me
to repay the favour.

[one day]
i’ll get the chance
to show you
i love you –
so much
my heart bleeds.


heat.

back in the hot room,
she remembers:
it’s been 11 years
since he walked out;
10 years
since she ran;
7 years
since he begged her back;
6 years
since she was home again.

back in the hot room,
it all came back:
as the warmth
embraced her body,
so too did the sweet
memories of a love
once unknown
and similarly suffocating.

just like the hot room:
you let it break you,
because you think it’s worth it.


request.

there is the realisation,
that this is your life:
and you’ve spent more than half of it
wishing it was over.

take me now,
the tearful plea each night;

take me now,
the gutless desperation;

take me now,
so i can forget;

take me now,
before the game unravels;

take me now,
let this be the last time.


implode.

because
it feels like,
my heart
is still breaking
multiple times
in the day.

because
the pain
and grief
continue
to obliterate
my lungs.

because
every step
outside the shell
is opportunity
for panicked
collapse.

because
i have only
two gears:
self-destruction
or
cowering solitude.

because
why sleep
when the hours
are an anxious monotony
of every terrorising fear
and every disappointing flaw.

because
everything hurts
but “so it goes”:
still my heart beats
still my lungs inflate
still my brain implodes.