Love is vivid

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just girly things: 

“Love breaks my bones and I laugh”

“Falling in love with you wasn’t some big statement, I just remember waking up one day and knowing you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

I’m still trying to convince myself that im a better person when I’m high, but the truth always finds a way back to me And when the drugs are gone, and the day is done I can still feel the sadness lingering.

Tell me about the days where your body feels nothing like a body: where it feels like a place soldiers lay down arms and forget to come back for them. Tell me what it’s like holding yourself at the barrel of someone else’s gun without pulling the trigger or what you intend to do with all these hand-me-down war relics when the fighting is over. Tell me how love never did you any favors. Tell me about all the temples you burned and rebuilt again and how no one’s ever thanked you for a hard day’s work. Tell me about your therapist when he diagnosed your depression: tell me about the softness he carried in his shoulders or the way he held his hands like an apology. Maybe if we keep falling for every weary, doe-eyed soul we ever meet, one of them is bound to love us back, eventually. Accuracy by volume. They’ve leveled cities that way: that’s how you handle machine guns and atom bombs (and you and me). We’ll just keep loving. We’ll just keep shooting. We’ll just keep hurting (ourselves) till it works.

You smell like home to me.

RECITING THE BIBLE FROM IMAGINATION

Jesus has a tattoo of La Virgen De Guadalupe covering his back. turns out he’s your cousin Jesus from the block. turns out he gets reincarnated every day & no one on Earth cares all that much.

Out of My System

HOW TO SAY GOODBYE

You will try to make it work you will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and tangle them back together with a lace bra and his favorite perfume and you’ll kiss him like he wasn’t the one aiming the gun at your chest, bullets flying from his mouth into every part of your body a few months ago and you’ll feel like god and you’ll think “thank fucking god I don’t have to miss him anymore” because he’s yours again but just for the night tomorrow you’ll wake up in a whirlpool of sweat and numbness and the taste of heartbreak will be fresh in your mouth, it’ll come slowly at first, like the first few drops of rain, before the storm that tears everything apart and leaves you drowning and soaks through everything you love and he’ll love you again but never at the right time never when it could work and sometimes you’ll think you’ve almost got it but it’ll slip through your fingers and break all over again like it did the first time and the time before that and you will be okay but you will never be okay the same way you were when you were eleven and you were nothing but skinned knees and smiles and he did not ruin you but he could. he fucking could.

the things that hurt the most aren’t the things you would expect to hurt it’s not waking up in the middle of the night to touch you and realizing you’re not there and shaking until my bones break it’s not crying myself to sleep and drowning in my own tears because your voice won’t get out of my head it’s not collapsing on the ground in shallow breaths and a head spilling over with memories of you because I’m being choked by your absence and how much I miss you those things hurt too, of course but the things that really fucking kill are the little things like the list of things in my head that I can’t wait to tell you later but I know they will stay locked in my chest, piling up and never come tumbling out of my mouth like they used to and it’s listening to one radio station the whole car ride without your fingers hitting all the buttons and the static between each station until you find a song you can sing along to. It’s the way dust is quietly settling on top of all my things because you used to clean everything all the time, you couldn’t stand messes. It’s the few tangles in my hair when I wake up because I’ve been tossing and turning in my sleep more than I ever did when you loved me. It’s the slight crack in my voice on the rare occasions that you call because I’m not really sure how to talk to you anymore.