Rotten - Part II

Some people are lying, cheating, selfish, entitled, dirty, disrespectful, dishonest, greedy, gold digging whores who will never achieve or amount to anything on their own. So instead, they suck every last drop and twist every last inch from anyone genuinely kind enough to offer anything, everything, constantly and without question. You know who you are and also how completely filthy and worthless you are. I hope to the gods that at night you are haunted viciously and consumingly by the empty bitterness and heavy recognition of your own true, inadequate, pathetic self. And I hope that your dreams taunt you and wake you with sweats from an image so horrific and ugly enough to match that of your own. Rotten and mirrored, the putrid picture of your failed self staring back at you which you have so disturbingly managed to fake during the hours you are awake. Anyone that possesses even an inch of depth of a fragment of soul will -if they have not already- see clearly, soon enough, your despicable ways and that make-believe pedestal you have built for yourself will surely come crumbling down. Leaving you in tatters which is exactly where you belong. Then...  slowly, painfully and destructively, shall you continue to fail and fall with the same immoral, corrupt nature you have already so magnificently mastered.

Build A Home

I had to go and pick up a cable I left at the old place tonight... It's so empty now... So ready for someone new to come and love it as much as we did. And I couldn't help but remember everything that had happened there. It was like every moment, feeling, good time and bad time flashed before my eyes right as I went to close the door to leave. Every creek in the floor, every crack of light in that place, every corner and every inch I know almost as well as I knew the person I shared all those moments with. Every dinner, every fight, every laugh, every bit of love... And every Sunday afternoon we built it together. It's funny how memories can do that to you. On the way home I bought some watermelon and coconut water... It's getting to be that time of the year again. And I couldn't help but remember how excited we were the last time I saw that place so empty... At the possibilities that stood before us and what the idea of making that our home meant. I'm sentimental, I know. But coming home tonight, to my new home... I couldn't help but to choose to remember only the good things that happened at 130 south 1st street. It was a beautiful home, and it was ours. I'll always remember it, love it, just as I did and do you. Thank you for all of it, the good and the bad... And for sharing such a special time and place with me. We built a home, for you... for me... and now it's time to leave and turn to dust. 

x

To love... 

And the people we find along our journey that show us, make us, challenge us, hold us, feel us and nurture us... 

To the feeling of having love, experiencing it, exploring it and nourishing it.... 

To loving.... 

To having been loved... 

To giving and receiving it... 

To the bountiful ways in which we are able to share in it.... 

To two kids who fell in love and jumped off the cliff with their eyes shut tight... 

Because they believed in it.... 

Maybe we should have known better... 

But then we'd never have all the beautiful memories to look back on... 

And who could ever be mad at that? 

To young, free, beautiful love... 

And to the human who I have always loved the very most.

x

Seventeen Shapes (But I only need this one)

I keep asking where you are
For no reason at all because who really cares
Six months we have been done
And yet, every now and then
I think of you and wonder where you are
Because there's no one who knows me quite like you do
Knows the lines and shapes of my body
And those quiet moments of "us"
Usually in some sort of tightly entangled spoon position
Made up for all the loudness that is this city
And even if those moments became rare
Or were short lived at the end
I miss those moments that our shapes fit
So perfectly together
And I can't help but think
How nice it would be to have two shapes fit again
In that way that you and I did
Every now and again
When nothing else quite makes sense
I'd give an arm and a leg to feel the shape that is you
Fit behind the shape that is me
And lay for just a moment
In a second so honest and well known
So still to this day and "always" on seventeen
I wish for the comfort of your body against mine
Because making shapes with you
Is a feeling I'll maybe, possibly, probably
"Always" miss.