It's strange to come here. To let my heart bleed out onto the pages, knowing that they will likely both read it.
I've been blessed to feel magic in my life. To find two souls who turn me upside down and inside out.
I've been cursed to feel magic in my life. To find two souls who turn me upside down and inside out.
I have never felt so loved and so entirely alone at the same time.
When I walked back in the door, wearing the edges of my heartache, he was a million miles away.
When I walked back in the door, wearing the memories that weren't mine, I still felt them both in the dark, so close with a million miles between.
When I walked back in the door wearing her on my skin, in my hair, on my lips, in my soul, I was broken, she wasn't whole, and his eyes were so so cold.
He made me wash her off, and so I did, feeling the water running down my skin, my tears melting in the warm rain, feeling more than a little insane. Knowing that I could wash her scent of my skin, but not her dreams from my mind, not the pain from his eyes.
I'm a puzzle with missing pieces, inspiring heartache in my wake. A conglomeration of beautiful dreams always reaching for unseen things, a beautiful mess who is so much less than they see me to be.
I accidentally handed her pieces of my heart, and she gave me pictures from her soul.
I am that hurricane of a girl, the quiet raging storm, the calm and empty home, and I caught them both, breaking pieces of their whole, tearing a million tiny pieces in my soul.
I am that fucking hurricane, that little bit of insane, the memories of lives long since gone.
She was right when she said I stepped like I expected to feel dirt beneath my feet, like one steps in the woods so as not to disturb the quiet of the earth.
I am that hurricane, that empty home, the inspiration of heartache without place lost in broken grace.
When I walked back in the door, wearing her eyes in my mind, their memories outside of time, I realized I had broken three hearts, not just mine.
I washed her scent off, but I couldn't wash off the pieces of her heart that I wanted so badly to keep. Watching the water run down old scars on my arms, cuts I made long ago to drown out the pain, yes a little bit insane. The knives can cut it away. For a moment in time. For a moment in my mind. And I have long looked to him for the pain which keeps me sane.
When I walked back in the door, I knew he wanted to hurt me, and I wanted to ask knowing myself to be fragile as glass, watching the shatter in slow motion, like a gently raging ocean. But there was a cold anger in his eyes, one that precludes giving pain in avoidance of the cruelty I could feel he wanted to inflict upon me.
Three hearts in one go, that's a lot for one twisted little old soul.
Somehow I managed to make us each alone.
I knew it wasn't fair to him who has always stuck by my side, on this long long ride.
I knew it wasn't fair to her, the girl with magic in her eyes.
For all that they see of me, I don't know how they avoid seeing the reality
that I am merely a sweet tasting poison
I am the wind in the trees, the water in the river, the grass beneath their feet
I am that quietly raging misery in my chest
a sweet tasting poison wanting to drown in two souls, never able to make each whole.
If that was the one thing I could make them both see, it would be that my beautiful mess is merely a sweet tasting poison.
And I am sorry.