i crave physical touch like a drug. i crave skin to skin, soul to soul kind of touch. i crave interlocking pinkies because i need a little hit. i crave to hug people that do little things for me because it’s the only way i know how to say thank you.
people tell me i will survive. that i won’t be able to remember this one day. that i will get over it. and maybe i will. but i will not forget. my blood, and my bones, and my cells, and my sprint won’t let me. they will never let me recover from you.
you remember that my favorite color is orange. and no organs like a sunset, but orange like a papaya. you remember that my favorite food is pasta and that i hate the taste of steak. you remember my two childhood dogs and nickname my mother told you on a random weekend back home. you remember me in a way i only wish to remember myself. you remember me beautiful.
”how did you fall in love with him?”
“a hundred days of longing.”
cold air hits my lungs and i finally feel alive again.
my brothers are not my blood, but they are mine. we have been through tragedy and triumph together. they have been my shoulder to cry on, and i have wiped away many of their tears myself. my soul will always be tied with theirs.
pick what you want. i don’t even care if it’s me. please just choose. you know the back and forth is breaking me.
heaven is over now. the party got shut down. the amphitheater is empty. the bars deserted. usually so full of life but now; deathly silent. but they’re waiting.
i am so terribly sad. someone must be watching the movie of my life for a good cry.