yvixtraedoesartthingsxd

[yvixtraedoesartthingsxd]

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Untitled #2

One, two, three heartbeats’ worth of time is how long it takes for me to finally decide to get up and leave my mess of a bed-- or really, just a nest on the floor of my walk-in closet, a barely cohesive pile of blankets pillows and plushies.

I haven’t taken the time to swing by his studio for a few weeks now, and I feel guilty for letting my awkward anxiety tell me that it’s best to stay away and waste the stupid amount of effort that went into outright asking him to be friends, how I almost was visibly shaking as I fumbled over trying to explain being so late to ask even though I’d seen him around a fair amount last academic year.

There’s a sense of pressure to try and look a little more put together before going outside under the excuse of getting my usual order of boba tea when really, I’m mainly hoping to see that he’s there today.

The walk there is both over too fast and too long simultaneously, my body on autopilot as I speedwalk music probably too loud through my singular earbud phone and wallet clutched in a claw grip in one hand whilst the other is on the strap of my bag knuckles white as my legs start to ache and my breathing grows slightly ragged.

I barely spare a glance at any of the people I pass or the park on my way there, making sure to check and double check my mental rehearsal of my order though I’ve gotten the exact same boba for years now: Matcha milk tea, traditional boba, fifty-percent sweetness.

When the destination is within my line of sight essentially just a really solid stick throw away, I take a moment to give a second reminder to myself to ask if it’s okay with him if I make a simple kandi single for him and if he wants anything specific for it but I can’t help the thought that it’s an odd question.

Gingerly stepping through the door I rake my gaze across the restaurant, quickly assessing that he’s not here currently if he’s to be here at all today but still wish to not waste the trip and simply order anyways, unsure on if it helps my anxiety for the moment resigning myself to trying to see him again at least one more time before winter break to talk and ask about the bracelet.

[yvixtraedoesartthingsxd]

Little Cassius

It was only upon some later reflection as I laid in a crumpled sickly heap in my bed nest at some god awful hour in the morning that I found some resemblance of myself in you as I held your frail shaky frame haphazardly swaddled in my own sweater, your body all but maybe the size of my palm, as I brought you back outside to let you rest a little tangled up in the pines of a tree at the nearby park.

You were so loud and yappy as angry and scared as you might've been, akin to how I once was and perhaps sometimes still am-- lamb eyes and bloody wolf maw and all, a spitfire because you didn't know what else to do when faced with such a jolt to the reality you know even for just a little bit, fighting like your life depended on it because maybe it did to you.

I laid with tears stinging at my eyes, heart hammering from my ribcage all the way to my throat, breathing labored and slipping from my grasp, vision spotty and shivering, head heavy and hazy like a really messed up greenout as I thought of you, hoping that my efforts and illness weren't for naught-- that you were okay and weren't just simply snatched away somehow in my absence before I came back to check the tree where I'd left you and saw that you were gone.

You were surely like one of my own, even if it was incredibly temporary, but the claiming of you was immediate regardless and I would do it again in a heartbeat despite the rounds of rabies prevention vaccines and looking like a squashed roach laying on the cold floor of my bathroom fearing how weak I'd felt and so I bestow you the name of Little Cassius.

[yvixtraedoesartthingsxd]

Unhinged Laments of a Depraved Craving

I wish it were easier to sit with

both the old and the new

thoughts and feelings that surface over him

but I suppose that's a bit much for me to ask for

and so the brainrot never ends.

I'm either unable to tear my eyes away

or can hardly stand to even look in his direction

because of how fast the guilt

has swept me away this time around.

I wear my heart on my sleeve

for better and for worse

and never before have I so terribly hated

how open my expressions are

on accident,

how you can see the confession written across my face

like some sort of damning sin,

though it honestly might as well be.

I am but a humble and hopeless devotee

to a god that I cannot reach

and therefore cannot receive answers,

cannot find a home for my teeth

in his flesh as it parts beneath the force

of my hungry bite,

cannot lap up and savor

the crimson essence that consequentially

beads up from the wound after,

cannot plead for him to do the same

in kind and tear me asunder,

my blood smeared across his teeth

and dripping down his lips and chin

mirroring just how I crave to wear his red,

cannot beg for him to devour my heart whole

as it beats

served on a silver platter--served just for him.

Only for him.

In a desperate offering to be known,

to be loved at where I'm most surrounded by ruin,

to be able to have even a hope at tasting

the salvation I just know his kisses would grant me.

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Untitled #1

I would say that I told the stars about him on nights that somehow manage to feel even lonelier than what should be humanly possible within the walls of my new home as I stare blankly out of the window up at the abysmal expanse of the sky above but it stares back, empty and my words fall on no one's ears but my own.

The now lit up archways that line down the street out in front are perhaps the closest light I have to ramble uselessly to, vomiting up words most of which I dare not repeat otherwise unless in the safety of my own isolation.

[yvixtraedoesartthingsxd]

Flailing Around with Shifting Interests and Guilt

There's a dull ache that feels bone deep permeating even the furthest reaches of my marrow as I curl in on myself on the floor of my closet feeling swallowed up by my thoughts.

Unspoken apologies rest heavy on my tongue as I think of him, the weight crushing down upon my airway as I realize that yet again I'm my own biggest barrier in this annoying ass cycle of interest and I find myself reaching towards my brother for comfort, advice, or even to be scolded like a child because I never outgrew wanting him in times of turmoil.

The clock ticks past three, four, five in the morning and I've lost yet another night of sleep without distraction as I reflect and try to learn something, gleam anything, from my time around Starshine to try and better navigate these messy feelings.