#regulusblackdefender

[bitebeforebark]

im like a dog in the way that i love too much and too hard. i wait at the door and when the people i love come back they just sigh. im like a dog in the way that it feels like i don't understand fundamentally how to be human. everyone else understands these little social cues that i have to take notes on and memorize. when they say this they mean that, but not always. im like a dog in the way that my heart has teeth. i learned to bite before i learned to speak. and when i bring them that dead bird they take it and hide it to throw out when im not looking. i find myself frequently wishing i was better at either being a person, or being a dog.

[bitebeforebark]

⭐

Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere

[bitebeforebark]

i will be a year older this saturday. that is two years older than i was when my mother last saw me, and five years older since my dad last saw me. it's hard to grow up in a home filled with ghosts.

[bitebeforebark]

bared teeth. the wolf inside howls and barks. the dog inside chases his tail with blank eyes. you are both, you are neither, you are yourself, you lost who you were in 7th grade. you lost it all when you were 12, you wait to wake up from this nightmare again. seeing clocks make you panic -- if the clocks work normally you're awake. would your younger self approve of who you've become? by your own choice or not? im not even too sure i currently approve of who i am.

[bitebeforebark]

currently mid hair dye, oh lord trusting my own process has never been harder

[bitebeforebark]

ermmm cannibalism as a metaphor for love and intimacy as a media trope. in case you didn't know what my favorite trope was.

[bitebeforebark]

we were like gods at the beginning of the world

everything we touched

was fresh and

filled with the gentle joy

of creation.

had you fallen as hard as i

i'm sure that the blood

leaking from your scraped knees

would be golden.

the outline of you holding me

had i been viewing as another

would've been created in constellation.

you promised me forever

and like a fool

i took your promise.

but neither of us are gods

although you may come close

and my blood is still red

and a promise of forever doesn't mean anything

when you run out of time.

[bitebeforebark]

i say i am all bad. rotten down to my genetics, molding from the day you picked me from the shelf and brought me home. i accept the pain that comes with being inedible, for i believe i deserve it.

but there is a part of me. a golden part, one untouched by the knives and mold and time. one that is still free. one that wants so badly to teach those i can't anymore to make angel cake. one that wants so badly to sit in summer fields and eat mulberries from the tree that was cut down the year my father died. one that is gentle. one that still goes roller skating in her grandmother's kitchen. one that knew not how to find constellations, but loved to tell you obscure star facts.

i may feel rotten and spoiled like milk, but this part, this gentle, soft girl who never got the chance to move on? she's in another universe where she teaches her mother and best friend to make cake. one where she eats mulberries and draws on the back porch with her father. one where she gets to be gentle because nothing has forced her to harden up. one where her grandmother has the perfect kitchen for skating around in her brother's shoes. one where she asks her father where orion is and talks all night to her mother about the stars.

in another universe, i got to be gentle.

[bitebeforebark]

sunset on the river and in a walmart parking lot

[bitebeforebark]

i think i am an okay person. i know i can't be a good person, but i don't think that means i am a terrible person.

grief has rotted away like an apple core in my soul. but that rot is full of seeds, and those seeds are slowly digging their roots down to anchor me in reality. their harvest will be plentiful. i am glad i met who i am after she died.

but the strange thing about her death is that everyone is acting like i died too. we shared the same last name, same eyes, same laugh, same humor, yes. but i am not her. i lost two people that night; my mother, and the girl i was.

after that night, an anger began to boil over inside me. i was claws and teeth, i was knives and blades, i wanted to make people hurt. all that tender hurt was hidden under layers and layers of pressing rage. i did not truly want to hurt people. i just wanted them to hurt me back. it was only when i had bruises blooming like a morbid garden on my arms and legs and was tearing out thorns from my hands after a tumble down a ravine did i realize that. the boy who hurt me didn't get so much as a scratch. i ended up scarred.

i don't want to hurt people. but there is a violence under my skin, a venom in my mouth, that aches to be put away. just because i have said cruel words doesn't make me a cruel person. i did not mean them. they came from a place of ache. i wanted to be yelled at for doing wrong, because without her, who would yell at me anymore? when you are not fed love on silver spoons, you learn to lick it off of knives. and when that love is coated in poison? you find a nostalgic comfort in the pain.

all this to say i don't think im a bad person. i think i am an average person who has been through bad things. i think i am an average person who has done some bad things out of a place of hurt. but i am certainly not a good person.

[bitebeforebark]

there's something so raw and beautiful about humanity in love. i am a mosaic of people who have been in love, and it ends with me. i have my mother's eyes, my father's need for spontaneity, my grandmother's patience, my aunt's love of space, etc. and mixed and molded together it created me.

one of humanity's biggest continual theme is the fear of being forgotten. hands chip away at marble to create statues that beg to not be forgotten. brushes held by people, every stroke a constant prayer to be remembered at all. we forget as time goes on and nobody wants to forget. nobody wants to be forgotten. we want the world to remain in vivid colors in memory, remember their touch, his eyes, her breathy whispers, his dimples. i want to be remembered. as a poet and artist, sure, but more for simply being human. there is no criteria a person should have to meet for being memorable. i remember everyone for as long as i can. my mother died in May, but i still remember her laugh. i have her laugh.

when are the dead really gone? of course, when their heart stops and they aren't breathing. but, under the hopeful assumption that we have souls or spirits, why then does their presence linger? my mother's soul is stained on my hands and hangs in my hair like the smoke from her cigarettes. my father's soul is nestled in the deepest crevice of my heart, hidden away in my primitive urge to forget him. i won't forget him.

i wouldn't be a good mother. i am from a family of bad parents and even worse kids. as a girl with a tendency to bite affectionately, it's a shame my teeth are coated in poison. i am a mother figure already, to my three younger siblings. they are scared of me. i have breakdowns if nothing works. i can't stand infants. i have, on multiple occasions, hit my youngest sister for not cooperating. i come from a family of control. really, all i want is tenderness and domesticness. but instead every aspect of my life is a fight for control. i want to live without fighting for it.

humanity in love is stupid. it's beautiful. we create poetry, songs, plays, novels, movies, musicals, art, etc. to show our devotion. i hope i never fall out of love. i hope i never lose my humanity.

[bitebeforebark]

i can bear my teeth. i can claw and scratch and bite and bruise but i can never go back. i am forced to remember what i wish i could change and cursed to forget that of which i want to remember perfectly forever. i can remember the exact order of events that happened the night my mother died, but i can't recall her voice. and that is what i have to live with.

[bitebeforebark]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60572614/chapters/154649998

link drop! please go read my fic, ive been working on it :) second chapter soon, it'll be from James' perspective!!

[bitebeforebark]

"Just two more years, he internally pleaded. Begging a deaf god for time that wasn't his."

excerpt from my wip fic, "welcome home, patroclus (or, how to mend a sibling bond with a cigarette and a potions book)"! first chapter dropping soon, keep an eye on my blog for the link x

[bitebeforebark]

there is a space between "i miss you" and "i want you". when the dust finally settles and you're standing there alone, left to imagine all the silly trivial things that would happen in another reality with them. i remember it all, and maybe time will make you forget but i still remember. i won't forget. i can be a living time capsule, evidence that there was love here once between us, but i cannot have you again. in every other universe maybe it was us, but there is only one, and there is nothing for us now.

[bitebeforebark]

it's been almost exactly two months since we stopped talking, and yet i still miss you. did you know that? that every poem ive ever written has been about you, even the ones that weren't meant to be? i loved you rawly. i loved you for 4 years, 2 of which we didn't speak. that is the role of the lover. to wait. i would wait until the earth was absorbed by the sun, until the moon drifts away from this planet, until you remembered me. i remember the sting, when you didn't remember who i was. did you say it to hurt me? i know you didn't. you don't hurt people on purpose until they're drowning in you. i still have the beanie you knit me. i promised to wear it forever and now it feels like grief. nobody tells you your first love will hurt this bad for this long. but i still love.