bubble gum

i’m gonna do it / i’m gonna stretch myself to the limit / and blow bubbles in my gum / red-high tops and a leather jacket / i’m gonna be cool / and calm / ’cause i’m not dying inside / feathers sprouting from cold tissue / tickling my stomach / freezing my heart in place / and something just tells me that hope / was not supposed to feel this way / but wouldn’t it be fun / if i was your tragic hero / if i wore dark colours / bent and stretched myself to fit inside the role / and obsessed over the smallest details / until my little baby heart shattered like glass / wouldn’t it be so pretty / if we all got cut on the pieces / bleeding out on tile floor / cause that’s how this works, right? / i’m the damsel in distress, fell right off the tower / and broke a couple bones / but i’m sure my prince is gonna come if i just wait around a little longer / let resentment ferment in my ribcage a little stronger / so what if i eat when no one’s looking / what if i hoarded cheap makeup in the bathroom / and wore it when no one was home / and everything i said was dripping in irony / and ignorance / but it’s nostalgic, so the valley sings my name / and the birds help me get ready / for some handsome stranger to carry me off / to another fucking castle / where i will vow to him to always always always / stay / but i’m starting to think / maybe i’m getting fed up of being swept away

how to plan for the future

  1. lie awake at night. you have to go to school tomorrow, and then you have to make lunch, and then you have to work, and you should really do the dishes. and after that, you have blog posts and chores and emails to answer and it’s never good enough, no matter how hard you work. is it?
  2. exchange a few more sentences than usual with your friend, about that apartment you might get, or the cities you could live in before you both start to panic. change the topic to characters in a story, or the clothing hanger someone left on the bus this morning. because god, it’s so fragile in my palms, able to shatter at the slightest touch.
  3. try to sketch it out on paper, even though it always comes out wrong. shoot down your dreams like birds in the sky, and watch them bleed out on freshly-mown grass. because that’s how this goes, right?
  4. type out google searches and never press enter. think about the years ahead of you, and start to panic because it’s so much, and so little, all at once. and i know what it’s gonna feel like deep down in my bones, when the music stops. and i’ve got nowhere to go.
  5. think about death: old folk’s homes, cough syrup, an IV in my wrist, the uncomfortable prick carefully numbed out. it’ll make me nauseous, i know it will. and what if there are people there beside me? what if i am the monster, the tree in the forest? what if—
  6. so now i try to stop. try to think about what i want and take deep breaths, knowing i’m already planning out a work schedule, and a budget. and isn’t it funny, how you can spend your whole life bracing for adulthood, but still get nauseated by the idea of paying bills?
  7. what if the cycle breaks me first? what if there’s nowhere to go?
  8. open a spreadsheet, and close out of your browser. shut down your computer, and run back and forth in the backyard until you can’t think clearly.
  9. what if i fuck everything up completely? what if i never have the courage to try? what if i look at myself in the mirror on a sunday morning, and can’t meet her eyes?
  10. but for whatever it’s worth, i would traverse a surburban hellscape at your side. settle down, and walk down the boardwalk, watching the sun rise. if that was what you wanted. and when our neighbours and their plastic children grow sharp, bleeding teeth, i’ve seen enough tv shows that i’ll probably know what to do, if i don’t freeze up under pressure, because that happens sometimes. and yeah, it sucks, but what are you gonna do?


we’ll spend hours, wandering around your neighborhood, stretching out boundaries and borders, wondering how far they could possibly go. and we’ll laugh about stories, and people who don’t exist, but they do in our minds, so it’s all right. rant about the world, and our days, the things we love, the things we fucking hate; and who we might be someday, not far from now. yearn for 2023, and fear its arrival in the same breath. we’ll stay up late watching tv, trying not to think about death, and its inevitability. and i will hold your hand as we cross the street, and try to take friendship for granted, for the sake of my own sanity, but i just can’t stop thinking that someday, this is all gonna be taken away from me. and god, when did i stop living like a movie? when did i grow into this, this weird fake-reality, of hoodies and sneakers and secrets, crumpled up in my palm, because i’m not ready now. but someday, when i am, i’ll read them out before a crowd. we’ll show them all, won’t we?

reasons to stay alive (2)

reasons to stay alive 2

  1. the stars glimmering in the sky. the way apartment buildings look right before the sun dies.
  2. when you’re driving home and your brain is a still, flat expanse around you, and your skin does not crawl as it sits on you, and it’s only a moment but in that moment everything is all right. and your mind only exists outside of you.
  3. i have a voice. i am in control of what it says. and i can use it to impact other people.
  4. words that i can spark from my fingertips lighting cities from oblivion. and maybe that’s the closest i’ll ever get to magic, but i’ll take it. i’ll take it.
  5. a collection of squiggly lines forming letters shaking continents and even if it’s only for a second i think i understand a little piece of what it’s like inside your mind and so maybe you can understand what it’s like inside mine.
  6. you make me laugh so hard my stomach hurts but it’s nothing compared to the weight in my chest you’ve lifted. and even if it’s only a moment, in that moment, i can breathe without my lungs feeling like a capsizing city. and that’s something, right? maybe?
  7. i am falling but i think maybe i’m getting closer to being able to trust you to hold the entire weight of me and maybe you can’t lift me out of this void but you can climb down and hold my hand and bring every ounce of your light. and i know you’ll have to go sometime soon for a while, but it’s not your battle. and it’s all right.
  8. the colours flashing black and white and the confusion crawling in through your tired eyes, and your heart is pounding, and you’re sure it’s gonna fall apart. and sometimes it does. but sometimes it doesn’t. and that’s something, right?
  9. your arms wrapped around me and your arms wrapped around me your heart pounding against me and everything for a second is all right because you know me and you’re still here. and i think you care whether or not i’m all right.
  10.  because i want you to be okay so bad it burns in my chest sometimes and even though i know i can’t i wish i could yank your brain out of your skull and make it stop hurting you. and make them stop hurting you. because you don’t deserve all of the shit that’s happened to you. and maybe someday, i’ll figure out how to apply the same logic to myself, too.

if you need to talk to anyone, find a crisis line in your area by clicking on the word here.

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did you know fun fact your perfect product comes at the cost of my mental well being? example: today, i realize at 9:30 i decide i need to finish two units of french for no apparent reason other than my skin is crawling and to leave anything half-broken makes me feel nervous. i finish a lesson. work harder, because my stomach is jumping out of my chest, and it’s hard to think clearly when your body works like this. it’s hard to sift through the lies desperately carving myself to the finish line because part of me just wants to keep moving, and part of me wants to do big things, but part of me just wants to grab your hand and never let go of it but even i know it’s more complicated than that. i’m trying to care of myself and stuff like my friends tell me to and stuff because i know they want me to be happy and stuff but it’s difficult to fill an empty mind with only other people’s love. and try to hold onto the good memories like lifelines, when the storm is telling you a hundred thousand lies. and i’m not a machine but i kind of wish i could be. but i also don’t because i think it would break me. seeing everything i could achieve, and still having to let go of all of it. so i chase after these concepts late into the night, over and over and over again. and yeah. it’s never gonna happen. but i still want it more than anything. i still sacrifice my mental well-being at the altar of my insecurity every night and every morning. it takes a long time to put the monsters to bed and now it’s too late at night. and the weight is blinding, and the only thought left in my empty head is that i don’t want to be normal or emotionless or whatever it is, not when it comes down to it. i just want to be accepted.

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