oceanhead.

it feels like it’s hard to breathe with all of you underneath. i tried my best to let you go, but got caught up in the undertow so lock me eyes and tell me straight, can we get out of this any other way?

https://ryndhoff.wordpress.com/

i knew you had scars the first time i saw you. and i don’t mean the one on your arms or the ones on your face. you’re only here because you faced the devil and got burned in the process, got high off the fumes of your shame in the process, picked at the sores in your soul in the process. i mean, the universe is a lot to process, especially when it’s held inside the raspberry caught in your throat every time the words “are you okay?” are tossed your way with every new nurse, new aide, new dr., new psych- don’t psych yourself out, love; none of us are okay

i didn't want to write about you because i know it means it's over. i know last night was the last night you'll hold me in your arms like you'll never let go. i never wanted to let you go but how can i expect you to hold this wound that never managed to heal, this shipwreck body with graveyard souls and blood in all the wrong spots; only blood in the place where it rots; broken bones in places i meant to build homes and they say everything that rises must converge but, love, we're sinking and i don't think there's any good way around this hurt