consistency? barely even knew her

twenty four & headstrong

coffee and american spirit cigarettes are the only consistent beings in my life

chasing pavement,

the smell of my grandmother’s perfume

and my self-esteem

all i can do now is

wait for winter

with my suitcase packed, stuffed underneath my bed

in hopes that it will take me

somewhere new

i like to collect wine corks empty lighters

they remind me of you

 

 

 

 

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and it never waves goodbye

still in motionless flow

hand stretched out into the promise of hope

fingers touching the edge of tomorrow

I do not fear the unknown

recklessness and change are one in the same

chasing the second hand of the clock

my biggest fear is falling through the cracks of history books on dusty shelves

or

getting lost in between the pages of calendars, forgotten

still in motionless flow

hand stretched out into the promise of home

fingers touching the edge of yesterday

I do not fear the unknown

I guess,

if home is where the heart is

mine lays scattered across the roads

and the interstates of the towns I haven’t been yet

goodbyes and broken clocks

time never waits for anyone

especially me

it ain’t pretty

when I get lost inside myself

and the weeks and the months

and the different colors

and the calendar

blur together

the sound of my feet hitting the gravel

brings me back to life as we know it

 

at night, when the streets are empty

i feel like the last woman on earth

gravity grounds me

 

but,

lately,  i’ve been waking up and putting on my running shoes

5am

the morning sun slowly peaks above the horizon

and  i feel brand new, sins forgiven

 

if home is where the heart is…

mine

is

 

 

 

 

 

Tired so tired so tired 

lovers who love to love me, or so they say

You wanna get married, you wanna procreate.

Take a look outside, the leaves are starting to turn, and the taste of your lies, aged.

Evolving, continuing.

The truth will set me free.

Her name is Lauren, she’s pretty oh so pretty.

Here I am, waking up next to you.

Shame on me.

Life is beautiful ain’t it? 

Mirrors.

The curvatures of my body shake the walls of my insides and bring me to tears. The strength of the mountains of my shoulders lay crumbled, forgotten.

Mirrors.

I don’t want to be who I am anymore.

I know there is more to beauty than meets the eye, I just wish there was a different person staring back, in the bathroom mirror, in the mornings, and at night before bed.

Mirrors.

I lean over the toilet seat, discarding guilt and chocolate cake, burning holes in my throat in exchange for gratification. Life is beautiful ain’t it?