Belief-ing.

I want to believe I'm believable.

I want the wind to take the last drag off of this cigarette.

So I don't have to spend my nights

believing I'm addicted to this.

I don't want to believe I've come undone.

I spend nights staring at my ceilings,

waiting for them to cave in,

I can never stop smiling

the nights I feel the plaster hitting my skin.

Here I go,

blaming the walls that keep me confined.

While I hold the axe.

and hesitate to resist becoming another speck.

I know now,

I don't believe in anything.

not even myself.

dust

I can float through walls.

and plant my graces

in between the words that have stuck in the wooden paneling.

I like it best here,

alone.

I like being dust.

shipment: marked unshippable

There's a heavy scent of misleading charm in the air.

it chokes the passer-byers.

they fan their faces and glare at the source.

I never knew

they were glaring at me.

I guess I'm not vain enough to think

anyone would take the time to hate me.

Then again,

I'm vain enough to assume

they wouldn't.

I am an addictive riot.

taking place in the library

filled with wit, and silent punches.

They must know-

I want to take great pride in destroying beautiful things.

and when I'm at the peak of my destruction

I grow a concieous.

and it tells me,

I'm no good.

and while it whispers unspoken truths

I am the girl

you want to rescue.

but I just want to sink.

They flutter to me like misguided misfits.

and I am just sick enough to be worshipped.

I can see you all.

you can stop shaking your heads.

you can stop telling me

why you're qualified to fuck me.

because that's all this small talk is,

right?

I wake up to your voices

I wake up to your laughter.

Explain to me who I was last night.

Because I swear on everything,

I have no clue where I've been.

I heard them knocking on that door last night.

I heard him calling my name-

while he was.

while he was tilting his head

to match the lean of my own.

but I can hear them all clawing at the door.

"But wait, we're 24 hour soulmates."

They call my name,

and soon enough,

it's the soundtrack of the night.

I never knew

the symphonic synching

of two voices

screaming my name

could be the choral death of my ego.

I lay in rusty sheets,

and shake the dust off my lust.

and all I wanted to do

was be queen for the night.

be the talk of the town

for all the wrong reasons again.

"you're perfect."

I know.

"You're enchanting."

I know.

"You're captivating."

I know.

trust me.

I didn't want to find out this way.

I didn't want you to either.

but remember when you walked in on me

shouting at the mirror?

that was me,

that was me.

"You're out of control."

I know.

"You're losing it."

I know.

"You're a liar."

I know.

Undress me with one zip.

Define my life by that one look that said it all.

forgetting to zip up my pants,

simply because I thought this was the kind of love

that was best experienced naked.

The wild fire that burned down my childhood home

is burning down the wooden doors my heart stands behind.

it beats alone.

I held my hand out to you, wooden stranger.

and you splintered my soft childish skin.

I remain dumbfounded by the pain of losing something,

the pain of losing you...

it beats me when I'm alone.

I keep calling to you,

but you have forgotten your own name.

the skin you cling too, clings to you, because it is afraid.

you will never be alone.

dynamic

between the y shaped tree and me,

there are four neighbors arguing.

they are ugly for shouting,

and I think that maybe

they are all just yelling.

not to be heard,

but to yell.