Today, I Stood At The Edge Of The World. I Leaned Against The Chipped And Discolored Paint, Bathed In

Today, I stood at the edge of the world. I leaned against the chipped and discolored paint, bathed in the light of the setting sun and I dug my toes into the soft grass before the cliff. The waves lapped at the shore below me and I inhaled as the wind whipped my hair about my face.

There, beside a lighthouse before the sea, I decided I could stay for all eternity. I could be alone on that cliffs edge in the twilight of the setting sun forever, frozen in my quiet solitude, and I would be happy.

I-was-happy, because for one moment I did stand on that cliff for eternity, hidden from the world but saturated by it. It was all I knew for those couple minutes as my present stretched to infinity.

I was a lone goddess on my solitary and ever setting shore, and I was happy.

-Other, July 2023

(s.m.)

I long for an explosive, violent, love. The kind that leaves us both bloody and broken but utterly alive.

I want to take a chunk out of my lover with my teeth and for them to grin at my bloody lips because they never wanted me docile, I never have been docile, and I am so tired of being nice.

Maybe that's because my last love bled me dry slowly over time. Now, I want my violence up front, if I am going to break I refuse to softly fade away, I want to go down swinging.

-After, July 2023

(s.m.)

"You're my person," has the same ring as, "I love you." It's just fucking habit at this point. -About the Before, June 2023 (s.m.)

Sometimes, I wonder if I made a deeply terrible mistake in forsaking you, because I know if I asked you would take me back, because you told my mother there will never be another girl for you, because you still believe in us, in me, and I sit here, mourning something I ended, heart bloody though I hold the knife, and I wonder what the fuck I am doing. I am scared, in my bones, that I set fire to something good. I feel like the broken one, too much, too volatile, the one searching for something that will never come, the one that makes the poor decisions, the monster that was able to turn away your love. I burned down our home, I pushed you away, I was the one that imploded and I am scared that it was not because you trapped me like a hurricane in a jar, I am scared that it was not because it was a matter of time before the glass shattered, I am scared that it was because I am merely broken glass, unable to be molded into something which can fit together with another human being. For now, the fear is only momentarily assuaged by reminders, by mantras, by how easy it was to let you go, how free I feel now, and how much the idea of you scares me now that we are apart. I hope for the day, when my fear is no longer placated but let go of, and I no longer feel like broken glass, but a balloon floating in the wind, loved for my ability to fly.

-After, July 2023

(s.m.)

We had such a sweet beginning, and I wish we had a sweet end. We started in such a cliche, a meet-cute, a rom-com. A fucking mission trip. We flirted like children because we were, and you held my hand in the back of the van when I pretended to be sleepy so you would offer your shoulder, and you were secretly satisfied because you had been looking for an excuse to. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep for two hours because my heart couldn't handle the way your hand felt in mine and when we got out of the van and you smiled at me my mom said she heard angels singing. Fucking angels and then so many tears and now I don't hear any angels singing and I wish everything still sparkled as it did I wish my heart fluttered as it did but it doesn't and all of me hurts and all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

-After, July 2023 (s.m.)

I'm mad at her because she told me I could do it, She told me I could jump off the cliff, she had done it, we would fall together and it would all be better, so, I jumped and when I hit the ground I looked up broken and bloody, and there she was cradled in strong arms, safe from the impact caught, while I looked up from the dirt bone poking through my skin, alone. -After; "Fuer meine Schwester" July 2023 (s.m.)