HOME | DD

Description
i am busy dying in this house.
you lick your lips and announce that we could run away, but i know you never would. you have things like oil-stained car parts and empty bowls keeping you here.
i'm swallowing keys to all the spaces in my heart that you will never find and i can see the green in your eyes. running hands over hipbones, i am safe inside myself. this half of a girl has collarbones for company - they speak louder than megaphones
- and a phone to remember the ache of distance.

your voice will never be anything but static anymore and i've learned a thing or two about keeping secrets and a hidden heart. i don't know much about trust anymore; even the illusion is gone now. i've been hearings songs in your voice lately and i can't help but clutch pillows and wish i wasn't lacking you.
can't even bleed properly - i wasted that release on minor catastrophes and now all i have left is fireworks to be shoved in-between ribs and the holes you left in me. if you look closely, you could trace me back into the circles under my eyes and sobbing pillowcases, blankets and sheets that have long since lost hope and i've stopped bothering with the lies. convex will turn to concave and back again when the seasons turn; i'll remain hidden under hoods and only scream quietly, and only when i know i am alone. this will not be a problem.

my maternal instinct stopped kicking in when i started dragging my insides through glass and bathing in acids. my hair grows longer while my heart stops functioning altogether; it has not been in proper working order for a while. and hands are always freezing now, you aren't here to hold them and maybe i don't even want you to. i can still rescue myself from the heart-hole i've fallen into if i am very careful, but not with you constantly pulling me further down and closer to oblivion.

this personality is second-rate and you aren't good enough for even that but i keep myself hidden away with the good china and the hard liquor, the kind only used for getting fucked up fast. there are empty boxes full of false warmth stacking up while i'm busy fucking up your life and mine, something you won't let me forget.

i'm wishing to lay down empty eye sockets and fall under trucks for you. looking for anything that won't remind me of you and i don't want these songs in my heart when yours is filled with love for a girl who does not exist but for the rare occasion of recklessness. i'm out on this ledge and you're yelling about how you're afraid of heights, safe on the ground. i'm tired of feeling safe, i need to feel like i'm alive before i'm not. before i can't feel.

losing heartbeats faster than eyelashes and i am needing something more than the sharp angles of an unspoken truth. this is not so much an obstacle as a burden and in brain pathways, people are anything but forgotten.
hurt me, hurt me. i'll remember forever.