Walk further... Further still. No move back slightly.... Yes. That's where I love you. I love you right there. Don't move.
Look down at all the glitter you're wearing!
Look back at all the alcohol you swallowed.
When you float silently into the gym tomorrow,
Recognize that you are simultaneously playing villain and hero,
Burning yourself up every night
And watering yourself back to life every morning,
A scorched earth puppet show with a GPA.
Half an appetite for success,
Half a hunger for rock bottom.
Fucking think about this.
Rewind your VHS tape mind until you start making the whirring sound that you hear when you're not letting any other sounds in. We all think you can do better but none of us care enough to keep watching.
"It's ok. Cry. It's ok if you do," they hurried me into a rushed kind of emotion; I was struggling to choke it back.
"You have a lot of holes."
"So...?"
"So people with holes rarely hold water."
When I met you, I was spending time staying together for the sake of my parents. And now you're still my "something for the pain".
And now everyone I've ever met is crouched in a closet at home waiting for me to enter so they can jump out and yell "surprise". I'm taking each stair like a newborn takes a breath, step, step, finish line, step, (fidget). Chasing something, but can only see the back of its head. Effort for little, liquor is quicker. If I wanted to try hard and then have nothing at the end I'd get myself a kid. I'd get ourselves a kid. All ten fingers, all ten toes.
Parents learn together that "me too" is simultaneously the most empathetic yet self-indulgent phrase in all of language.
