#khakislut

I DON’T REMEMBER, THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS & AT LEAST IT IS HAPPY || ( accepting !! )

           a family. the very word hung around in his ear and burrowed itself there. putting up roots. refusing to budge out of its cementation. – it had once been a word he’d come to fear… to dread… something that had once lived so dark within his soul that the mere mention would send shivers down his bones. a word– he’d more than banished, for lack of a better term. a word that had once ruled a constant melancholy. threatening with a backhand or worse, a twisted horror of the ability to keep letting it perpetuate. scared to death of a cycle he’d once so closely associated.

           time had left its wounds. scarlet, bleeding, hysterical in their encompassment.  forcing his mind to close off. to refute any avenues towards happiness that ever followed the tradition. as if, his father were some ghost sitting on his shoulder. whispering curses in his ear. taunts in the mirror as their features played nearly identical as years grew on his face. mocking their resemblances in long ago reminisced  idle threats that still came back to haunt. a haunting that overtook the discussion – continually denying that one word… family.

           the word held a feared association. that in the name, his horrors may just catch up. that welcoming someone in would risk identical fates.  like a psychic chain. that such a name connected to all the worst parts of them. connecting them to his mother, his father…    giving a foreboding ideology that it would reel them back in; to use a name could mean welcoming something precious into the jaws of their predecessors.  

           leaving him cautious. uncertain. forcing himself to believe that they still sat on his shoulders. WATCHING. just waiting to snatch their familial property back up into the cycle. trapping them in a family name that was damned to begin with. a fear he’d allowed to rule his life… for so long. an irrational one that ate him up in the middle of the night and spat him back out trembling in the daylight.  one… with such vigor had tried to keep holding as tight as it could. pushing him back. pushing them BOTH back. 

           until – he finally slammed the door. cautiously swallowing the key, with his hands gripping the handle. trying to keep it all out–  so they could live a LIFE… ( without the ghosts of his past. )

           NOW– the word left him with salt etching at the corners of his eyes.  trying desperately to blink away. cradling something much deeper. an opening up. a happiness he couldn’t quite define… one that utilized every single worry in his body all at the same time; yet came out in a swelling of his heart. so close to bursting, yet– holding itself together, just well enough, to exude every single piece of love he could offer. a love so different– it didn’t even make sense. a dedication, that felt so inherent, so natural, so paternal. it cut right to the core of who he was.

           the world felt so different now– like he was falling in love all over again. the phone still shaking in his hands. playing the voicemail over and over in his head. until it was the only word he could think of… FAMILY. 

           ‘ after the extensive work that had to be done in evaluations, we have finally decided that we’d like you to proceed to the next step. we would like you both to come to the office early next week, so we can discuss final arrangements and the remaining paperwork.  please callback when you can, so we can settle upon a time and date.  thank you. ’

           lips pursing together tightly, still begging to hold it all in. as he felt his heartstrings pull at his throat.. it was a feeling he could only describe in one word – OVERWHELMING.   it was the call he’d so dreaded to receive, while all at once being the call he’d waited by the phone for months for… the one he was so scared of, yet so ready for. the call he was afraid would break their hearts – came to be the voicemail that left him so engulfed in JOY… in HOPE… that he could no longer hold back the sob cracking out between trembled lips. pulling bobby so close to him – so he was everything he could feel. arms wrapped so tightly about his waist… breaking down in the crook of his neck. overtaken by something so far from a sadness, but a profound joy. the last time he’d ever managed it was watching that same man in his arms walking towards him across that hall – where they’d promised to live their lives together, always.

           letting it all overtake him and just flood out. with a smile ghosting behind it and his heart hammering so fast. he was almost scared he’d wake up – and it would’ve all been a dream. that he’d tricked himself into believing he’d deserved any of this… any single moment of this lifetime they were living – TOGETHER.

           wiping eyes into bobby’s collar, lips pressing gently as he spoke against his skin. how ironically comforting, to feel so small there in his arms– yet so big. words faltered, they failed, yet in that falling out– they said absolutely everything. in the one phrase that held him together, “ i … i … love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. ”

           fingers holding his words together as that overwhelming flush took back his body, just bursting at the seams, spelling out in that simple phrase, “ i just can’t believe it… ”

           only smiling through the downpour. until he could finally allow the reality of the moment to sink in. just enough to allow him to express past the sudden inability of words in the overcoming of tearfully overwhelming joy. shaking hands gently cradling bobby’s cheeks as he found their foreheads touching, before getting lost between his lips.

I DON’T REMEMBER, THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS || ( accepting !! )

         there was a pause. a hand drifting to lace up his lips with his fingers. almost as if to conceal the steady pull at a laugh. a breathless choke back, strong enough to send his head tilting back– struggling to supply it as a springboard right to the back of his throat. there was no hitch of sarcasm; no cruelty intended behind such reaction… he just genuinely found the statement entirely misleading && misinformed. 

         there was a well-cemented certainty in the fact that, it was quite the opposite really. he was the one much less than deserving. strained from any belief that there was any part of him that was worthy of any such affection. this ability that he had to just– look into him, to SEE him. to pull back scar tissue– to shed light on the most vulnerable parts of him. to somehow find them beautiful – no matter how he doubted. a soul so caring, it felt almost sinful to have him… like it was some infraction. that someone so broken– could ever have something so whole. 

 I DON’T REMEMBER, THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS & IT HURTS || ( accepting !! )

       there was a constant ring; inhabiting his ears and crawling through his insides. like a hoard of parasites– embedding themselves within the mind. taking pleasure from stripping free will. taking away the voice of reason in your head– waving it around like some prize game to be hung on the wall. out for DISPLAY. like a puppet following the commands of strings. victim to their own disabilities. things removed, patched back together, disintegrating at the simple touch of light. unable to hold up without the inhabitance of ghosts. leering in their self-indulgence. until the trigger found home in the impulsivity of self-destruction. 

       held together by mere physicality. bandages could only glue together so much. until it all came crashing back down. rivaled by the cementation of self-hatred; shattering glass. something deeper, not only embedded but embodied. something that not even running away could cut away. it still echoed. claiming parts of his life in its wake-- until... he found he felt nothing at all. but the stale, stagnant reality of sadness. one that never stopped. but kept growing. no matter how happy the world became-- it still LIVED and BREATHED, right there... in the wrapped, frayed medical remains of its carnage.

       teeth chewing at the ends of dead skin, leading a leak to spring from chapped, mistreated lips. allowing the metallic taste of blood to touch his tongue. disassociated eyes wandering the sterile walls of his latest stay. as the RIGHT voice finally echoed in. pulling his eyes to escape the desensitizing effect of white on white... he could never stop feeling. he felt all the time. so extremely, so enduringly. 

       maybe that’s exactly why his sadness kept trying to take him away... it wanted to be the only thing left to feel. “ i... ” words always failed. as salt began to sting skin-- etching into his cheekbones. leaving all too visible scars of an invisible war... that was sick of hiding-- one he didn’t even know how to fight. because suddenly, even those pieces of light-- failed within the realm of those dark embodiments of the demons that always managed to find a foot hole. making him even unable to face the one person he held most dear... whispering in hoarse tones-- trying to conceal the inevitable breaking down -- “ but - why can’t you ?? ... i’ve already lost. ”  unable to catch his breath, never able to meet his gaze. as blood shot eyes closed. hiding desperately in the depths of that cotton pillow, drenched in sweat.

       his opposite hand, left to the elements-- long lost scars playing future mirror to its bandaged counterpart.  --  bobby gave him light. he wanted to be better. live better. get to feel that warmth... all the time. but he couldn’t do it by himself-- as all things once had been. he couldn’t even just explain them to bobby... all he knew, was it couldn’t fix itself, but-- he didn’t even know where to look to find the patches. 

oh and smc productions tend to be in the round. liek. always.

the disneyland parking lot why am i not surprised

im cryin