Vodkaley and BulMya, my best friends….

I thought one day I would grow out of all this self destruction. We age and realize these emotions are for the teenagers, the twenty somethings… the foolish souls. Not me, not when I am finally so wise. In march I will turn 30, and I still drink to much, and I still throw up most of almost every meal I eat. I still wanna ruin good things, and break apart the parts that should make me happy. Sometimes I see my self and I just punch the reflection, and other times,I am okay.

For real okay. Not the okay you whisper to stop the questions. The kind that feel content and warm. The truthfully OKAY we can smile when we say…

Today I keep allowing the pain to come. MY eyes are so close to tears and yet I sort of feel grateful today, and also angry, and a little disgusted.

My throat is raw from throwing up, but I don’t feel bogged down by the nuts I ate, because they are no longer there. They get stuck coming back and remind me one day this shit could kill me, but when I puke it’s like hitting the back space. I get to rewind and make a new reality. The only reminder is my flushed face and watery eyes.
Its control, its freedom.

Like the wine I drink to much of. Like the smokes I watch light up the night and there sweet foul smell that I hide under perfume when I sneak back inside.

I wonder what its like to feel normal. To not feel like a character you barely know sometimes. The walls and secrets I keep to get threw the day… They could fill libraries. I should be so lucky… To live here, and yet I still wait for more.

To the age of a galaxy and back

You have served me well my beautiful teeth. I will love you still when you all fall out. 

You have always been so lovely hair. I will think of you often when you live no more. 

Oh skin, sweet olive skin. I will never damn you again so long as I live. You may wrinkle and crack at will. I remain ever grateful for your protection. The sun will still kiss you good morning… and may love hold you goodnight.

 Even when my eyes can no longer see, the dark rivers of truth will always flow out. I can never damn time it’s self… I can only love now and love everything. From the tips of my heart, to my cranial nerves. I  estimate it’s worth, not a society, a magazine, a rejection of affection. I decide how to age… grace, let there be grace, and I will forgive the lack of grace when we become humans once more. Falter. I will love you all as I love my self.

Perfect creations of explosions. We are the children of passionate combustion. Our ends are as well our beginnings. Is there a lovelier story then that? 

So the broken girl fell in love.


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Everything gets better, and everything gets harder. I can not breath sometimes because I know where I want to end. I found you. I can see you standing there. At the end with me, but like everything I love the fear of loss is overwhelming. I don’t want to live without you, I can’t imagine not wanting to protect you, the way you protect me. It is the same and yet so different.


I see her and I know I have to always be hers and that my heart will stop beating without her, but you… you choose to stand near me. To think I am not such shit. She was forced into my life. She had no choice in the matter. She has to deal with me forever, and I have to try to be good enough for her… but you think I am. You think I am more then Ill ever be. You love me back, and for once I believe it, but when we are apart, I am afraid that you are never going to come back. I am afraid we will never get to laugh again, in that dark room where no one exists but us. 



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I genuinely need an up. A buzz, a hug, an amazing song, something shiny, something that makes everything else not look sober, and sad. 


I feel like I am fishing for something… wrong bate? wrong lake? Knowing me Its the wrong season…. 


Come on, just a little bite, I am not that picky. Ill take anything today.

Although I could really just use some drugs… 

On guard with allegory.


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My proverbial heart is like a viking sword. It has been bent and folded over so many times that the Iron is too strong to ever really break anymore. Every Time it is put into the fire it only grows stronger. I am much to quick to cut with it now. I wield it at the first sign of danger… No one is safe, but here I am wishing someone might just be kind enough to let her rest. 

I don’t want a stronger sword, I wanna be vulnerable, but in this war, I just can’t seem to relax. My shields are always on high alert. Everything is the beginning of the end, and I plan to survive. It gets lonely back here, but atleast I never cry anymore. 

In this fort of redemption I remain, waiting for someone who knows the passwords, the right words, and never leaves me waiting to long. 


Fucking and santa.


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I think I only want to get laid. I think this feeling is biological… but then when I saw him holding his boyfriends hand why did I get that feeling you get after you do cocain… Want.. She made him laugh… Want… He said her name… 


If anyone could, for all intensive purposes want anyone else in the entire world, and they technically speaking could easily want you back… Then why can’t there be something there… Someone that wants to hear your voice? Pay for your beer… 


Why does love feel like Santa Claus? A fairy tale I was told as a child, to make me behave… Is love just the santa clause that makes little girls not be sluts? 


To all the lights in the windows.


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It’s never going to be how it was. I think everyone and everything is just the ghost of the love or life you knew before, a never ending comparison of the past. 

It happens in almost the same sequence of events with slight variations. The end result is often the same. Like an asteroid collision, or an imploding galaxie the scars and carcases are left behind. Forever changing the universe; But I think change is good. Change is nature. Change is constant. Good or bad, inevitably both. Something dies, somethings born. The scales will always level out. 

I will kiss you like the first time, but I now know the truth… There will always be a last time. Everything must change.