Just things that I see and think and write and want. Just
me.
Ode to a dear dear
friend - S
I don’t know why they call it
having your heart stolen. It’s not. And that’s the problem. It’s still very
much there, in your chest, beating, beating, beating.
Maybe if it was stolen it
would be better.
Maybe you wouldn’t feel the
ache of loneliness with every contraction.
Maybe you could finally get
some uninterrupted sleep, without the ghost of them.
Maybe every time your phone
went off your heart wouldn’t lurch to the front of your ribs like it is trying
to escape.
Maybe you wouldn’t feel like
grabbing a carving knife and cutting the damn thing out. Putting it in a box
with a bow. Neatly addressing it with loopy cursive writing that you reserve
for special occasions. And sending it to them.
Maybe they shouldn’t call it
getting your heart stolen. They should call it keeping your heart. For that is
far worse.
PS. I love you Toots. I’m
always here
And as I am sitting there at the creek bed, bawling my
eyes out because of the injustice and prejudice and hate, my mom simply states “maybe
you aren’t gay” like it could possibly solve all my problems.
Last night I
dreamed that you wanted me.
Wanted to hold
me.
Wanted to kiss
me.
Wanted to lay
with me.
Wanted to just be
with me.
But then I woke
up. The longing was pain.
Because you don’t
want me. You want her.
I've never been somebody's first. I've never been the first one they call, or their favorite, or the person they day dream about. That was normal. But I've always had a number one. My Hope perse. But now that I don't even have that, it makes no one wanting me oh so much worse.
I've never been somebody's first. I've never been the first one they call, or their favorite, or the person they day dream about. That was normal. But I've always had a number one. My Hope perse. But now that I don't even have that, it makes no one wanting me oh so much worse.
So this guy just
out of nowhere decides that he doesn’t want to work near me anymore because I’m
gay and then he apologizes today. I guess I’m just supposed to be okay with
that because I’m the coordinator and should forgive him but fuck he made me cry
and I think he deserves to know how much it hurts to be persecuted for
something that you have no control over.
My desire to hold
your hand was so bad that I had to sit on my own.
We are the clouds
that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the
darkness radiantly!—yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:
Or like forgotten
lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail
frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest.—A dream
has power to poison sleep;
We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive
or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond foe, or cast our cares away:
It is the
same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man’s yesterday
may ne’er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
I'm sorry that I repulse people.
I'm sorry that people leave and by the time they remember me I don't want them anymore.
I'm sorry I've been a bitch and pushed people away.
I'm sorry I'm so forgettable.
But I'm not sorry for being me. I love me, even if you don't.
I'm sorry that people leave and by the time they remember me I don't want them anymore.
I'm sorry I've been a bitch and pushed people away.
I'm sorry I'm so forgettable.
But I'm not sorry for being me. I love me, even if you don't.
I can’t change me
I can’t change the
way I feel.
All I know is I
need you.
Or I need you to
stay away. If you come back to this town I just know I will lose it.
You know that I'm at the end of my rope, so what do you do? You push me.
You know that I'm at the end of my rope, so what do you do? You push me.
Look at me like
that again and I will be forced to kiss your fucking adorable little face.
Tonight I almost
killed myself. How did no one notce? While washing tables and refillng juice I
was contemplating my death.
But throw on a
fake smile and no one notices.
Even when my old ABF
starts talking about his boyfriend he doesn’t see it.
When my new ABF complains about being fat she doesn't see it.
When my new ABF complains about being fat she doesn't see it.
My crush doesn’t
see it.
My mom didn’t see
it even after I told her.
My boss didn’t see
it even after I told him I needed a break and the rest of the night off.
Nobody sees
it.
Nobody sees
me.
Sorry for the gut spilling. Sometimes you just need to let it all out. Love you guys.
-Dupree
You’re Never Over- Eminem
"So God just help me out while I fight through this grievin’ process
Tryna process this loss is makin’ me nauseous
But this depression ain’t takin me hostage
I’ve been patiently watchin’ this game, pacin’ these hallways
You had faith in me always"
Speeding Cars- Imogen Heap
"The paper cuts, the cheating lovers
The coffee’s never strong enough
I know you think it’s more than just bad luck
I’ve watched you slowly winding down for years
You can’t keep on like this
Now is as bad of time as any
There, there, baby
It’s just text book stuff
It’s in the ABC of growing up
Now, now, darlin’
Oh don’t kill yourself
'Cause none of us were angels
And you know I love you, yeah"
Gut spilling is important and I'm glad you have a place to do it here. If you need to call me, anytime, you have my number. Take care of yourself and find a good way to recharge.
ReplyDeleteYou are wonderful, beautiful, memorable YOU. Love ya kid, you're great.
Dear Dupree, I love you. Love, Jo.
ReplyDelete