𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐌𝐄! ༊*·˚

[vi‎ ‎]

ughh

[vi‎ ‎]

hana and i spoke about cat names today
and going to penn state just for fun.
i told her she'd see me in the marching band.
we both know i'm quitting next year, but we laugh anyway

the brush paints your nails a sickly sweet red.
maybe all that matters is cooking in the kitchen for your family
and the names that you'll cross out on your shoes.
sometimes you come across a stupid cat
video. or something sweet like a video of the
northern lights.
and you think. yeah. maybe i've been worrying too much.
maybe all that matters is the way the sky looks tonight.
or
the sound of our
laughter despite
everything
pushing us down
did you catch that on camera?
wow.

[vi‎ ‎]

CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES she writes to me over text. I feel like vomiting. Like bottled up. I don’t want to listen to you anymore, but for now, for now I just have to take it.

Will it matter in a month? A year? Will it matter in ten? Sometimes I sit on the floor at night in the dark and wonder what I’d be like if you didn’t exist. If, despite your non-existence, I somehow found my way into the world, maybe I’d be softer, kinder. Or harder. More confident and less like a deer in the headlights. Less easy to take advantage of. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to wait fifteen extra minutes in line the other day because everyone thought it was okay to cut me.

You sneer at my sorrow. I hate you but I have your face. Your stubborn pride and cursed temper. I hate you but even when she says we’ll patch up and things will be “okay” again, even when I deny it with unshakable conviction, if you asked me to, I’d come back. I had to beg you once, to fight for your softness. I opened like a wound for you and apologized for the blood. I did it once and it almost killed me but maybe, yeah, I could do it again. I'll have to.