insecurity, vanity

stupid art and stupid words

Theme by Theme Static

last night i made a mistake

and

he was everything 

you said i needed 

but

i still don’t understand

why

you said no

when i begged you to stay with me

and 

he said no 

when i begged him to let me leave

I can’t help but frown when you look me in the eye

and say

I don’t think you understand

I can’t just stop having feelings for him

because

 suddenly

I am confronted with the bitter taste

of the exact words I just swallowed.

I could name a million reasons why

you can’t stop

(the face he makes when he hears

something shocking, the sigh he does before

he laughs,

dear god, you know)

but I think it is more helpful to say

 that even

someday when you think you have given up

(on him, or on love, or whatever)

you might still see that spark in his eye

(I know you

know the one)

that keeps a smaller version

of this fire you know now

burning. 

She likes to fill her bath up with water, as hot as the heating system can muster, and then slowly collapse into it.  When the searing water touches her skin, the bitter numbness subsides.  For moments, the perpetual pins and needles are replaced by the sensation of being boiled alive.  Her frail skin bursts with flushes of red.  She will emerge later with a brief feeling of cleanliness and warmth.  It won’t last.  Easy come, easy go. 

“You don’t love anything besides yourself,” she says to him.  She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands, streaking mascara on them.

“At least I love myself,” he says.  “You don’t love anything at all.”

She considers this.  She loves nothing at all.  Usually she would disagree, knowing that she loves him—but that is not true, tonight.  Tonight she hates him, and he is right.  She loves nothing at all.