it’s been a long time since i wrote to you. i’ve exhausted my heart and my head and my headaches searching for words. for genuine words i can offer you. please stop reading now.
i tried to draw fatigue and etch the moon into my hands. how funny, how i sleep and how i bleed and how tired i am getting.
once — you know — i made a goal to kiss a stranger on my favorite street i’ve never been to. hop freight trains, start a movement. make art and make love and be alive. you remember who i was then, right? so full of wonder and want and wild in few ways but more ways than now.
you scared me yesterday:
i am nothing now, and i don’t want to be your everything. i don’t want to be your hope or good fortune. i do not want to be a person you feel lucky to have found. i know i have hurt you. i know i will keep hurting you. don’t let me be this much.
i made eye contact with a stranger again today, and you’ve known me long enough to know how that goes. but the subtle differences are getting subtler, and he looked lost or fascinated. we touched hands for a moment and paused and it was akin to a movie. it was difficult to understand. he had a tenderness about him that rivaled Z before Z saw too much of me too hungry and in another way became too hungry himself.
do you think Z would’ve fallen in love with me had i not said to him what i did? had i not talked to him that night and let him kiss new scars and tell me i was beautiful even still?
he would’ve been stupid. sparrow would’ve cheated him of strength and energy. i would’ve.
how tired are you? of my emotions of my suicide attempts of my fickle love of my lies of my truths of my personality. i am not your everything, because that is something i cannot be because this — what i am, what i am writing now — is not fair to you, and you should have something, someone, who is at least fair, because you have had too little of that in life.
i would hold you to my heartbeat so you know i still have one but you would hear me breathe and you would know i hardly do.
but you are so far away and my legs can’t close that distance so words will have to work. can you handle this
don’t let me be so much
tagged as: wh.