anya, ohioan, 19. artist, admirer of words, learning to be self-secure, in love with a boy.

(Source: v-isceral)

five things being in love has taught me

i. 

everyone is a monster
until you fall for one.

ii.

learn to fill the spaces in your heart
for when he isn’t there;
his heart is not your home.

iii.

you will receive kisses
you do not deserve;
he will give you his heart
even after tearing it up again.

iv.

your limbs will drop
waiting for him.

v.

one day his name 
will not fit in your mouth
anymore.

Nothing

You will wake up one morning with no one beside you and suddenly the emptiness all around and inside you caves in upon itself. You will clutch the sheets as if grasping for the scent of her again even though she walked out two weeks ago.

Her mascara is still smudged on your pillowcase but the imprint of her body against the mattress is long gone. She carried this heaviness with her that you felt drowned in, but you’re lighter than air now and you’re floating, floating, floating. Nothing is in your reach.

At least when you were drowning, you felt something in your lungs, something to weigh you down and keep your feet down on the ground.

You were happy to not be the one that had to walk away first. You were relieved, maybe even a little giddy, that you didn’t have anything anymore. And you realize that she gave you every atom of her heart, filled you with so much love to mend a tattered you, that when she ripped it all out, when you took it all back, you had nothing of your own to take back. You had nothing of your own to give her.

You are nothing without her.

there is a light that has gone out in me;
i’ve raised thunderstorm to strike you
and shaken your bedroom walls for you
to touch me somewhere besides my body.

something inside me is swollen and wilted;
plant your seeds where you will nourish them.

puddle

i wake up with eyelids swollen of you
and limbs too heavy to lift.
you are the anchor and the ocean,
the bubbles that carry my pleas
to the surface.

my lungs collapse and the hollowness 
bring a sweet pleasure 
and i feel you 
carry me home.

existence is a heavy thing

for moment i forgot
i lived in my own skin
and leaped out of the dust
of my own heaviness.

the world is quiet again
when my eyelids creak
like door hinges opening
for me to jump back
into reality from
my daydreams.

1:49 AM

You could never see
how lonely you make me feel
when I am with you.

wishes

i wish you loved me
the way i love you;

i wish you loved me
with a man’s heart
instead of a boy’s,

or maybe it’s my own
that’s too empty.

boys

I grew up with boys who worried
about the size of their penises
while the girls starved, whittled away
to make room for them.

I came home in tears to my mother
one afternoon from school;
dirt was kicked into my eyes
and my braids pulled undone,
but she said, “boys will be boys.”

I spent evenings emptying my dinner
into the toilet bowl and I couldn’t decide
whether my throat hurt burned more
than fist shaped bruises on my arms did.
I let him ink my skin because simply
he needed to erase away my flesh.
I felt him inside my throbbing veins.

They painted over the walls with white
to hide the lipstick and blood
the same way he made it known
that “boys will be boys.”

home

i’m falling ceaselessly out of time
and you lift my chin, tell me
not to be too sad today.

i hear them singing all around me
of songs about loveless love,
and they hook their anchors
on my heart to send me away.

i woke up next to a ghost of sheets.
they took you away, and i realized 
i’m only missing a home.
give me a reason to stay
when i hear the ticking
but the hands don’t spin.

if this is love,
take me back home.