i want you to say no. i want to tell you to say no because i hate that you are realizing love in this. that you stay because he makes you cry. that this is everything.
and i know this. to know nothing else, to need pain that is not even worth while. a sickly desire disguised as... hope? the disgust in yourself makes you ignore disgust at him.
don't do this. don't do this.
but i will never say this to you because i love you.


i can't feel the ground beneath me sometimes.

are you angry? you're just annoyed. but i'm just looking for something to hold onto and hoping i don't find anything. i want to at once eat too much and nothing at all. i want to feel stuffed and starved. it's the same sometimes. both are suffocating. and sometimes all i want is to be stifled. and your annoyance hurts more than your anger.
will you be patient with me? you're the only thing that can hurt me.

he doesn't eat butter with his pancakes. i always do, and steal his tiny paper cup of it, hoping he doesn't notice. i like a lot of syrup too. too much. and milk and sugar in my coffee. a lot of coffee. and salt and pepper and ketchup on the hashbrown. i wish i had eggs too, but i wouldn't ever in front of you. that would be too gross, right? how could you stand eating with me?

she says it like she doesn't mean it. she doesn't care about it anymore. but it still means so much. the pancakes with the butter and the hashbrowns and pie. where do you want to go? do you want to go home? do you want to go out? sometimes, it's easier to be alone. easier to be unhappy.


it's fall. the sun and the frost scold each other every morning. i exchange short sleeves for coughs and pinch off cotton balls from last year's tights. i find myself constantly wishing for something. c says small towns are places for big dreams, but i find myself sleepless.