pseudo•fanta

scotty, you’re not the villain, neither of us are

your text read, “would it be easier if I was dead?” I was frozen, with a craned neck shoes still on, standing in my parent's kitchen heart in a race against the image that I wish I could unpicture you on the burnside bridge in the city that undid you peering over the edge with blurry vision, broken glasses plummet into the Willamette swallowed by the water, almost as dark and poisoned as your thoughts

at the mention I light the ignition top my tank off, then I take off knowing that I shouldn't flying over a mile a minute on the 5, not even singing

is heartache love’s payout or is pain just my default? whether my hearts broken or beating it still feels like bleeding out

my fatal flaw of wanting, needing, never breathing right seeing spots, numb extremities limbs drop limp to my side racing heart, blood rush to the head

i’ve seen you needing more refusal jumping out you don’t need help you can do this yourself

do I want to live my life being someone’s perfection?

pouring plastic glitter into my expression, you buy it. you can’t even see my eyebags beneath a pound of concealer!..

another hour of all in my head.

leave… now… before they come back around… run… hide… afraid I’m in a bind… friend… of mine… stop searching for a sign..

what changed? am I just a coward?

what’s wrong with me?

is it all my fault?

watching the moonfall stretch the crescent’s light over the horizon yellow fishhook, sinking out of view

ash from another long-dead planet skirts the stratosphere, dragging light across the sky

I wish to wake up, free to the sound of birdsong before dawn, and saltwater mist on my tongue

fire breathes between crackling ribs this tender, caged thing could singe, or swallow skeletons whole

hands seek warmth, and it provides but come too close it grabs hold, to scorch softness to the bone, alive reduced to a trembling, charred frame

if this flame is fed, it will destroy everything and I can do nothing but watch

is it my fists, alone closed around my throat? forcing me to swallow my tongue any feeling that I know

I followed the bus two blocks down, till 17th and state hit a red light on the way, choking on my own laughter as I pull up beside tears fall, before the green light

I wonder if we both cried the whole way home or if you couldn’t

I say I said it, didn’t i?

what a bold faced fuckin lie sitting on a fault line it’ll break at any time

haven't made up my mind keep thinking I do and then the tears run down my cheeks before I can hit send.

i put it off again, don't want to dim your light, check the time

0000, 05232025

i say goodnight-- why is it when I’m not in the same room I wish I could kiss you? I’m so confused

I don't want to be the someone they'll never get over. They insist and then re-insist that I am their end-all. I'm sure they'll be okay, eventually… at least, that’s what they say, too.

I'll be okay. Always am.

including you, my rose

I cannot respond with the same enthusiasm, and I can already see them counting every second I wait to respond.

all i manage is thank you