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Feb. 12, 2018
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We would all rest together after a long day, the taste of our parents' liquor on our tongues, our bodies sticky and pressed together, the smell of sweet, tangy sweat creating a familiar cloud in the air. Love was a thing we could taste. It was thick with promise and abundant with forgiveness. It was ours to hold and to savor on our tongues.

I'm sure it was easy for you to cast me aside as someone who would always come running back, but I'm through running. After a while, lies catch up to you. I'm left thinking, "Well, what do you say about me when I'm not around?"

Self-destruction is a lonely endeavor. In order to successfully pull yourself down, you must disassociate from anything and everything that gives you a sense of self-awareness. If you are completely isolated, it's easy to slip away.

She sat in her chair, her mind trailing off, biting her thumbnail nervously. She worked her teeth around the malleable cuticle until it bled, and she kept the tip of her finger in her mouth, letting the tangy taste spread throughout her tongue.

Her small frame bouncing submissively upon the seat, the wheels bumping noisily along the unkept road, the radio hissing out its repetitive song: "You aren't really here, you aren't really here."

I am numb and tender
I feel empty and welled up
I am a million contradictions
All bundled up and tied together
With a pink ribbon