magic-mf

[magic-mf]

"Would've, Could've, Should've", Taylor Swift // "First Love/ Late Spring", Mitski // "Motion Sickness", Pheobe Bridgers // "Everyone", Mitski

[magic-mf]

this is so real

[magic-mf]

I’m sitting there and my hair is wet. My hair is wet and my new sort-of bangs are pushed back because that's the only time of day I can get them out of my face. I’ve washed them three times. I can’t tell if they make me ugly, my friends say they don’t. That's not the point. My stomachs are touching each other and my hands are wrapped around my little-bit-more-than prickly ankles. My chest is sinking. There’s a pit inside. I have homework in every subject but I won't do it. Not now at least. No, I’ll just wait until hopefully the pit gets so big it becomes a chasm and I can’t breathe until I’ve somehow figured out exponential rules on my own. Until I turn in my late biology review and read my two chapters and three questions and my chapters 47, 48, and 49 vocabulary. Until the chasm swallows my toes and I fold my laundry and find the hair-clip I absolutely need Tuesday and clean the rest of my room and track my lunch. Sometimes, when my hair is wet and eyelashes touch my knees, I wish I was never made to exist. I don’t have the balls I used to; to try to end it. I want too much now. I want too much and so now I have to live with the dirt inside my chest and the dread woven into my stomach. I have to live with wanting to go to college and wanting to create and dance and see snow again and pet my cat and I have to live with wanting to stop the pain that’s there anyway.

[magic-mf]

must enemies turn into lovers? can't they be the mirror of each other, connected by a defining trait of their character and arc, but ultimately separated by fate or ideology? can't they feel each other's presence in the crowd, a tether, a like calls to like, and at the same time repulsion for the distorted reflection they find in their enemy? can't they be each other's most feared destiny? can't they squash every time they meet the tiny fragment of empathy and connection that refuses to die, despite the opposite ideas, despite the blood, despite and because of the tragedy of it all?

[magic-mf]

the tears that refuse to fall and stay there so long they turn cold 

[magic-mf]

we were good. i just wish being good was enough. it should have been. 

[magic-mf]

I’ve been heavy for 10 years, I think I’m back where I started, With bloodied teeth, I’m spitting them out, They don’t love me the same as when I was sick and complacent, They should have shoved me back in the van and left me cold in the dirt, I wish I could feel the earth but my fingers are too numb, I could boil them but then there would be none of me left.

[magic-mf]

A lost twin flame,

Found herself sunken in an outsiders mattress,

All she can recall is shown by the bruises on her wrists,

And dried mascara covering the sheets,

Crusted into her eyes,

Her fire has fizzled out,

Leaving her twin burnt out too

[magic-mf]

Sadness lies in her grave, Dug by her own cobwebbed skull, She can no longer turn her cheeks the lovely crimson color that her father loved so dearly, She is far too cold, Sadness counts the days in her tomb by minutes, Hoping one day a lonely bistandar may see the overgrown weeds surrounding her soil, And they may sit down and chat with the ants inside of them, After all, Sadness wasn’t always so sad.