Blue Girl Grey
@withinwhile
An offering of letters to no one, all the while, calmly drowning in this sea of words. Interpret as you wish. Sometimes @Ababy183
Thanks for reading, going to pause on this account indefinitely. 💙
How do I do this? Again. Me: "There are so many people here." Her: "Where were all of these people when she was so lonely, so depressed?" Me: "Depression pushes people away, Mom." Her: "Well, she brought them all together today." She asks me who everyone is. I don't know.
Dressed two hours early to lay her to rest. More death. Always death. Sipping my coffee and watching the birds, watching for life. Searching for life. Hating you for writing her like me. And the next moment, not caring. Love her harder. While I bury another.
He loved me quietly. Kept his distance. Then from afar. He loved me smaller and smaller. Until all he could hear was my silence. And all he could see were my fingerprints left on his skin.
A list of wants whittled to one. A want for the deep, dark of the sea.
I scratch this skin trying to quiet the want only he seems to be able to soothe. The sting of his hand on the flesh of my need. I beg. I beg. He won't hear me, until I deserve. Daddy, I ache...
I understand now. I can hear it. San Diego, your mirror, that feeling I had, and how I was nothing.
I show him my vulnerability. He tells me I'm beautiful. What a simple way to live. What a perfect kiss.
I loved the way you called me yours. You said I was made for you. But possession was for a moment. Just a toy. To break when you were bored.
My garden, unattended. Now a cathedral of decay.
Digging through the grave of us. Picking up bones and saying "let this death be now our life"
I've dropped the pen. It was her you chose. And her. I'm no Gatsby. I see that light wasn't mine to reach.
They take pieces of me like souvenirs A song I showed them A poem I wrote once A part of me they’ll give to someone else.. who will never know whose mouth it came from
I wanted to be breath like air the deep inhale you take in the morning to move to face it all to get through it to remind you you’re still here alive and awake even if you don’t desire it anymore to fill your lungs to capacity would be to occupy a space inside you like love.
I have never been quite right for anyone. And I'm always wrong. And it's always my fault. So, I go to bed, pull layers of covers on top of me, weighing me down, tuck my arms under, hands beneath my chin, knees bent to my heart, ocean sounds, and hope the nightmares go easy.
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