"You just have to pick the sin you can live with."

(inside our hearts) there are oceans in which we are constantly drowning here we are shipwrecked lovers struggling to keep our heads above water here we are mermaids whose necks never formed gills here we are suffering by the hands of our own incapability incrementally suiciding with words like yes | okay | this is the final time and so the essence of our existence gets washed away in a tidal wave as we are worn down slowly to the bone because we have lost the last of our self control among seaweed and sweet words and the memories of soft hands on our waists we are drowning (inside ourselves) and   there is      nowhere          to go              but down

I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.