peace is coming.

sun., aug. 16th — 12:59am no matter how sunny the days are, that grey cloud forever looms over my shoulder, making impact at my most vulnerable hour. why am i the way that i am? what god have i forsaken that has crippled me so? i just want to believe i am good. i am worthy. i am enough. i want.

there once was a clawing at my esophagus; the booming of love deep inside of me, begging to be released. and then there was you. the only ache i feel now is the absence of your hand in mine because of the hundred miles between us. i carry these scars, but forever with you has healed me.

i choose you and me, religiously.

i’ve forgotten what loneliness feels like because of you. even in silence, there is a comforting hum in my mind.

it had to be you.

wed., aug. 5th — 1:55am who was i before this love? all the nights spent in grief and tears, wondering if it were possible to be loved as wholly as i love. as devoted as i am. as intense, feral, beautiful, and raw as i am. in my dreams, your very blood runs through my veins. i’m at peace, at last.

her warmth is more comforting than the sun itself, and i’ll forever be safe from the coldness of my own mind.

i’ve been writing my eulogy for years; now i write of you and your sweetness as poetry.

mon., aug. 3rd — 7:56pm you’re hundred of miles away from me, we’ve never touched, yet i can feel the ghost of your hands caressing my face; as if i were the most delicate thing you’ve ever held. we’ve met through many moons, eyes connecting with a knowing gaze that we were meant for one another.

suddenly, every color on earth became brighter overnight. my body is overcome with a serene, weightless calm. i was preparing to live this entire life in a motionless spiral, and yet, here i am. awake. aware. you were my dream. you are my dream.

and there you were, all along. oh, how blind i’ve been. here, beauty stands before me. the wool had been pulled over my eyes, but i see now. my girl, my girl, my girl.

tues., july 28th — 5:13pm who am i when you strip away the yearning for love? what have i become, if anything at all? i wonder — when did it begin to spiral downward? i thought i knew what i wanted, but for years i have sat in this empty box. when did i become so uncomfortable with discomfort?

my love erupts deeply in my abdomen, bursting at the seams, and yet i cannot bear the consequences of speaking them aloud. you and i exist only in my mind, and there we are safe. there, there are no doubts, no guessing, no uncertainty.

i can’t find the words, even though they’re swirling in my mind like a tidal wave. each day, i become more and more of a shell. perhaps i'm not disappearing. perhaps this is my hibernation period. surely i will heal. surely…

i see you in my dreams — my punishment for loving you so deeply, i think. a siren song.

wed., june 22nd — 9:17pm seven deadly sins brew inside of me. i see them every time i look in a mirror. why can't i rid myself of this disgust? this... intensity? this pain that courses through every vein, second-guessing every movement i make. i want to believe i am good. i want to believe.

i’m sure there are others that have felt this way before (or still do), so i’d like to share where my heart and mind have been for… longer than i’d like to admit. i love you all, i’m sorry i haven’t been around much. it’s… hard. ❤️‍🩹 thank you for reading. (alt text available)

my brain is poison, and i am haunted by the belief that i will never know who i truly am. something inside me began to rot long before i noticed the smell.

sun., july 19th — 4:31am i am too much, yet not enough.

my nail beds bleed from clinging relentlessly to all that i have ever loved.

it was never going to be me, and that truth will outlive me.

there is no finish line, because there was never a beginning. there is no sobbing confession that will ever arrive. my heart reaches for a wound that was never allowed to happen. i will forever mourn what could've been. what i envisioned so clearly—it must've been real. i am a wounded dog.

thurs., july 16th — 3:19am these days, i only exist in my fantasies. longing to dream when i sleep, because it's the only place where i feel i belong. i wake to a body that carries a life my soul has yet to touch. i can't help but wonder if any of it was ever meant to become real.

when i am rotting flesh and bones, the overwhelming love i feel for you will linger there — long after eternity.

why must my adoration feel so sinful?

tues., july 14th — 3:31pm my confessions claw at my throat, begging to be freed. in my head, i’m spiraling; on the outside, i am a blank canvas — unable to be read. but, god, how i wish someone would see past this mask.