keep my mind at bay

“There's an empty space inside my heart

Where the weeds take root

And now I'll set you free”

i take pictures of flowers at rest stops. i am the happiest when i’m showering. i like to touch everything i see. i have a love-hate relationship with human touch. i fixate on and romanticize every detail about people i like. i hate pants. i talk to my cactus. i sleep only on one side of the bed. i smile at strangers. i smile at those flowers at the rest stops. i count cracks in the ceiling.

i am unfathomable, organized and chaotic all at once. maybe he just couldn’t handle that; couldn’t handle those quirks and all of that personality. maybe he just prefers someone that passes by the flowers without a glance. someone that doesn’t touch things for the sole purpose of feeling something new. someone who doesn’t talk to their cactus, or, even worse, someone who doesn’t have one. maybe someone easy to fathom or someone less chaotic than me is what is appealing to him. we accept what we think we deserve and he knew good and well that he didn’t deserve my organized chaos, my smiles at flowers, my habits, my fixations and my quirks.

i am unfathomable, organized, chaotic and beautiful. and that is more than i could ever say for him

i painted every inch of his body in hopes that maybe he would view himself as the art he truly is. he does not paint me physically, but instead, when he speaks of me, he paints a picture of the most beautiful art he had ever seen. but i am falling apart; chipped paint and a yellowed canvas, all the while he is the most stunning piece i have seen and ever will see. he sees himself as crumbling. i know him as beautiful. he sees me as beautiful, chipped paint and all. we are each other’s master pieces and each other’s definitive beauty slathered on a skin canvas.