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alt. i wasted my summer wanting you

last night i guzzled down all my strawberry liquor to wash away the thoughts of you.

for the first time in my life

i find myself longing for summer

so that i may lose myself in the daisies and sunflowers

just to keep you from planting your carnations in my mind.

i can only hope my cacti and weeds keep you at bay.

i'll bury myself under eden

so that one day

you'll unearth me and recognize my rot,

you'll see what lack of tending can do.

on nights like these i can only forget you

at the hands of my own vices.

only at the hands of things you would never do.

things that remind me of how different

my filth looks

in the reflection of your holy light.

please forgive me

when i mistake you leaving the bedroom light on

while i howl from the doghouse,

as a sign i do not belong here.

please forgive me

when the hole under the fence is just big enough on both sides

for me to signal a return i hope never comes.

and please forgive me

when i leave a mess in your flower bed

from digging myself up,

i hope only to show you the fool i've become.

i promise to leave everything the way it was before

which is to say it had changed at all.

that morning, i finished your bottle of strawberry liquor just to steal a hint of your taste,

you kissed him on my couch right after.

i scavenged the ocean floor and came back as someone new

you longed for someone with a heart of aquamarine, not just for someone blue

years of diving has left my topaz skin brittle, cracked, and raw, yet no pearl nor diamond nor ruby will do my love has always been precious, but not precious enough for you.

pull the leash tighter,

nourish me with Your empty words

and praise me for my silent hunger.

when i howl as it storms,

focus on keeping Your bed warm.

the feral lightning stands no chance against my soul's ravenous state.

i am not the type of dog You are used to caring for,

but i find myself deeply devoted to You all the same.

and although my barking prayers sound like hail

and my begging roars sway the house,

the Goddess' hound is nothing

but expendable,

just another dutiful follower,

just another mumbling devotee in the crowd,

another bleeding, wounded hand to command.

and yet, no matter how intense or often my pleas are,

She receives the worship all the same.

maybe She knows,

and maybe there is sick enjoyment to be found

in glancing at me from the bedroom window,

in keeping me distant

while i wait on Her words.

or maybe,

i pray that

just maybe,

this is the only way She knows

how to treat me like the mutt i am.

You keep me chained to the lawn,

but the lawn keeps me closer to You.

12/02/2023 ~1:30 am

i have deduced that at the end of the day what i feel is pure experience-based envy. after a very brief discussion, it seems that this envy stems from a childish hope to have a close-knit group of friends i've known for most of my life. however i was not granted this luxury, and i have found myself as an addition to a group of people who have exactly that. i know that there would be nothing i could change in the past that would provide me with an outcome that would place me in a better overall position than where i am now (which is depressing at best). constantly referring to people as ____'s friends because i am essentially an accessory to the subject the group surrounds has gotten tiring, and i find myself once again returning to the cyclical pattern and role i've fulfilled my entire life.

maybe i just feel envious that i don't have a friend who's--for lack of better words--solely MINE. i know that none of those i will meet moving forward will ever feel the same devotion i do to something as seemingly unimportant as a platonic friendship.

i wish i could break the pattern, i wish i could escape this bittersweet and tormenting narrative i find myself in. i long for a faraway land where i know there will be a place where i truly belong without these horrendous feelings of guilt and jealousy. maybe i'm truly an idiot, maybe i'm too far gone into my own head, maybe i will always be the problem--a glitch or an error that should not be in this to begin with--or maybe this will always be my place and i am meant for this suffering.

maybe i'm just pathetically throwing myself a pity party that no one i am close to could care less about or are tired of.

what else is there left for me? is all i am capable of doing taking? sure i give myself up entirely and i would sacrifice everything sacred to me, but for what? a selfish hope that i may be listened to without the subject immediately changing? to not be able to sneak away without notice and selfishly wait for people to find me knowing they'll do it reluctantly or take forever to do so? i cannot decide what is the right course of action, so i am doing what i have learned is best to do in these situations--absolutely nothing. i must sit and grin and bare my teeth and pretend i don't feel agonizing emotional discomfort and pain every time something minuscule seems off or reminiscent of my abandonee-past.

some days

i catch myself tossing coins into the well

where i laid you to rest

in the back of my mind,

and though i wish

that in another world

i am not always evil

and you are not always leaving,

i know these are things that wishing cannot fix.

you will always be a coward

and i will always be perceived,

and i find my wishes have changed.

i have begun to collect my coins,

and i have enough to ensure all is granted

when i wish

you gone,

when i wish

to move on,

when i wish

nothing but the worst for you,

when i wish

to stay with those i know love me,

when i wish

you never forget,

when i wish

to spend my life in peace.

aka ((it's been five years))

dear You,

a friend recently told me

that you giggle the same way

you used to.

however,

my dreams have tainted your image,

and in place of laughter

a sick silhouette whispers:

"i am not who you remember or want me to be,

and i will never be again.

you keep lingering on words

i will never speak to you,

but my eyes will tell you

i wish i had

when i could."

and though i recognize you from here,

you do not look like yourself anymore.

a stranger has been superimposed over

what used to be my friend.

i beg you,

please stop following me

with another face.

goodnight.

every time you fall

i can’t help but make a wish

and hope it comes true.

I. In Which I Can Only Recall The Monster I Previously Was

II. In Which I Refuse To Let Go

III. In Which I No Longer Care For Myself

IV. In Which I Meet You and Hope For a New Start

V. In Which We and Everyone Else Disappear For A Year

VI. In Which I Become Your Hound Dog, Once Again

VII. In Which You Find Someone Better

VIII. In Which I Am At a Standstill Watching Everyone Move Ahead Without Me

IX. In Which I Begin to Lose It

X. In Which I Stray Away From You To Save Myself

XI. In Which I Am Truly Alone Again

XII. In Which You Will Never Understand Me

XIII. In Which Neither of Us Will Ever Know How My Story Will End

XIV. In Which I Convince Myself I Was The Only One At Fault

XV. In Which I Can Only Recall The Monster I Previously Was II

soon

the muse i dream of,

i long for,

i write for,

will waltz

into my life

and as we dance

to life’s melancholy tune

step

after

tragic step

-stepping on toes

in attempt to maintain

our suffocating embrace-

the world will stop moving just enough

for us to hum the melody in unison.

my dear friend with no name,

the heavenly beam of light in my banished existence,

my blistering sun on those frost-bitten days,

words in any language due no justice

to praises i sing of you to those who

choose to listen

and those who do not.

it never dawns upon me,

wether people have the picture you painted of me

stroke by stroke

using your clever depictions.

i only seek to be the shadow in your everlasting image

burying myself away from the spotlight

so only you shall shine.

i spend my hours writing to you in my head--there’s no difference if i were to message you,

the lack of response stays and stings the same.

my mouth gift wraps my words to you:

how could you do this to me again

becomes

don’t you dare worry about me

your absence cuts me deeper than i ever could

becomes

you could do nothing that would hurt me

i can only wait for so long

becomes

i’ll stand by your side until the day i die

i changed all my passwords to your birthday.

how can you expect someone to guess

your importance

if it was never reciprocated?

ignored.

save for pity.

frivolous to those rushing past.

the living concern themselves not

with what it was,

what it looked like,

or how it behaved.

only it’s death,

and lack of future being.

the rugged red

that screams of should-have-seen-it-coming’s.

the rotten ruby

that fills your nose with what-could-have-been’s.

the bittersweet raspberry

taste of remember-when’s and i-miss-the-time’s.

roadkill presents no concrete image.

only existing in imagination,

as it is impossible to remember something

that was never seen alive.

i deliver bulletproof-vest-padded hugs,

and speak shock-blanket-covered words,

handing out a life’s worth of help lines and safety centers that i myself cannot access.

i stand, knight in shining armor,

awaiting a command.

i listen for my cue,

pretending to save you

from feats you have already conquered.

you have no need for what i offer,

and yet you bestow upon me

the illusion of my deluded assistance.

aka “A Cinematic Masterpiece”

the way Their eyes twinkle.

the way i become a camera

capturing Their most mesmerizing scene

on the big screen.

the way the dust slows in the sunlight

and i wish upon all those stars that

surround Them.

the way the Universe holds her breath

to keep from disrupting this moment.

the way that in a split second

the spark starts up the soundtrack of songs that will never exist but make me at

home nonetheless.

the way i keep these rolls of film locked

in the shelves of my mind.

the way that i, the lonely narrator,

guard these moments i love through vicariously.

the way the camera can only recount but never feel.

the way i do not need to exist within the plot

to feel the joy of those who do.

the way i fear the inevitable rolling of credits.

the way the camera no longer exists

when the screen fades to black.

the way i know the story can and will

continue without a teller.

the way my purpose can be fulfilled.

the way i find peace in accepting my

temporary role.

the way i will hold Their eternal joy

far beyond The End because of

the way it is all i have.

there is a picture i long to capture:

a friend.

the beach.

i imagine them looking back from the water

at me, their louise,

nothing else matters, white fabrics sway,

and we are. we will be. at peace.