puddlethecat

some days i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.” and my brain says back, “good; eat.” and i have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and my brain says, “you are human, you are human, you are human, and this is what humans do.” and i feel okay and i do not think much about why this is strange. it is cereal at nine, a sandwich at half past twelve, and supper at a quarter to seven. on these days, my stomach is quiet and polite. my brain is also quiet, but with the intensity of one who is preparing for war. still, i never see it coming. then some days, i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.”

Maybe I should have questioned why your teeth always chattered like fingers clicking on a typewriter, and why your fingernails looked as though faint, blue ink had bled through but who questions anything but hair, makeup, and boys at the age of sixteen and maybe I should have noticed the lunches you spent doing homework, or listening to music, as you gave away your lunch, because you said you were not hungry- and I silently thought more for me and maybe I should have wondered why you walked through the hallways with pockets of graphite under your eyes, as your knees knocked together like keys on a lanyard: clink clink clank and maybe t

House of Cards 12/7/13 I was built to break. My heart was made to ache. These bones are broken still. I've lost my path and will. My breath is shallow, it's getting hard to swallow this bitter pill of my demise, looking at this life I despise. A night that keeps getting darker. A bright star that fades away. My grim reality is getting starker desolate day by desolate day. The vivid colors all blend to grey and bleed on the canvas Earth. It's okay if you don't want to stay, for I have been cursed since birth. My feeble mind can grope and fumble for a reason to crack a smile. I've been forced to be humble and have been all the while. I h

House of Cards 12/7/13 I was built to break. My heart was made to ache. These bones are broken still. I've lost my path and will. My breath is shallow, it's getting hard to swallow this bitter pill of my demise, looking at this life I despise. A night that keeps getting darker. A bright star that fades away. My grim reality is getting starker desolate day by desolate day. The vivid colors all blend to grey and bleed on the canvas Earth. It's okay if you don't want to stay, for I have been cursed since birth. My feeble mind can grope and fumble for a reason to crack a smile. I've been forced to be humble and have been all the while. I h

some days i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.” and my brain says back, “good; eat.” and i have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and my brain says, “you are human, you are human, you are human, and this is what humans do.” and i feel okay and i do not think much about why this is strange. it is cereal at nine, a sandwich at half past twelve, and supper at a quarter to seven. on these days, my stomach is quiet and polite. my brain is also quiet, but with the intensity of one who is preparing for war. still, i never see it coming. then some days, i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.”

I have had many things stolen from me. From the simplest things. When I was 5 my first play station. 7, my first kiss. And when I was 14, my first time. Most people imagine their first time as this beautiful moment, Candles on the side of the bed. Marvin Gaye playing in the background. And this perfect collision of bodies. Like during a sunset, The way purple and pink clash so beautifully. And that absolute moment of pleasure. But instead of screaming his name, I was screaming for help.