nor the gilded monuments.

"turn up the lights, i don't want to go home in the dark"
                                                                              -o. henry



time is not going to be loyal to your statues.


they're going to collect dust; everything you've worked for will collect dust.
nobody's going to remember it.

i want people to remember it.
i want you to remember me. 

polyamory.

"therefore i lie with her and she with me
and in our faults by lies we flattered be"
                                                            -william shakespeare, sonnet 138



sometimes i wonder what it'd be like if i had kept it hidden.
would either of them be satisfied or would they be at each others throats?

i am here now. i have done what i have done.
the ball's out of my court for the last time. 

veins.

"there are a lot of things i wish i would have done, instead of sitting around and complaining about having a boring life"
                           -kurt cobain




yesterday a friend of mine broke down in front of me on the stairs in my school. the staircase was opposite the basketball ground and there were giant fourteen year olds screaming bloody murder when they couldn't shoot a hoop.

her eyes turned red and watery and before i knew it, she was sobbing with her sleeves furiously rubbing at her face while i was stood there wondering what to do. her parents aren't very good people, she said. they aren't going to pay for her college, they don't care about what she does once she finishes 12th grade. i don't want to mention the rest.

day before that, another friend of mine came to me sniffling about about how much stress she was under. granted, there were quite a few people that day who were close to tears because of the amount of work we got that day but she was all trembling hands and shaky knees. it broke my heart.

i came back home and kind of had a slump myself.
and i couldn't bring myself to go to school today.

the fact that they trust me enough to cry in front of me is really touching but the fact that i'm still stuck wanting to rip my skin off half the time and still not speak out hurts. it doesn't hurt anyone else, it just hurts me.

i'm going to take a nap.
being awake doesn't seem appealing right now.

closure.

"you will always be fond of me. i represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit"
                                                          -oscar wilde; the picture of dorian gray



i'm one step closer.

after all this time, i'm one tiny step closer.

and i haven't felt this free in so long, i guess i really had to let you go to reach out to all the people i've reached out to. there's no spite left, no malice. just pity.

i'm glad.

i'm glad you're gone.

enemy.

"they don't like you, they don't bring you coffee. they knife you in the back instead"
                                                                                               
                                                                                                                -lee child




p.e; a friend of mine overheard two girls whispering about my recent haircut. one of them said i did it to impress someone.

homeroom; a girl came up to me in the bus and told me she wanted to look like me.

i didn't know what to say both times. i kept quiet.

i probably greet everything with derision, i've figured that out now.
how do i fix it?

heat of the moment.

"rage was sometimes a useful ally in the heat of a fight, but it was a trickster.
it made everything seem possible"
                                                       -jonathan maberry, dust and decay





it's ironic how pure sadness makes your fingertips go numb and unadulterated rage makes your fingertips simmer.

i'm kind of stuck in a limbo between the two, and i can't say that they cancel each other out. if anything, they multiply in exponents and make your knees go weak. i'm not trying to get lyrical, that's quite literally the case.

i woke up at 10am after drifting off to sleep at 7am. i didn't try moving until half hour later, after i had closed my eyes and calmed myself the best i could. i was all wobbly legs and scorching palms and it's taking everything in me not to let out my anger the way i used to.

 playing the victim when you're at fault is just sick. not being able to genuinely own up to something- thinking an empty apology is enough- that's sick. guilt tripping someone and killing every bit of good they had in themselves is the sickest thing anyone can do.

but at least now i know what happened with everyone else. now, after so long, i can see their point of view.

but let me tell you, the grass really is greener on the other side.
and i'm not ever coming back.

graphite.

''nostalgia is a seductive liar"
                                       -george ball





there's something about the way nostalgia creeps up on you at the weirdest times in the weirdest places.
i was standing in front of the art room in my school yesterday and i realized i hadn't been there in months. i hadn't picked up a pencil and drawn something for myself in months.
nor had i attempted to sketch out something simple; not an eye, not a hand, not even a quirk of someone's lips.

then i remembered summer of 2011, the year i ruined my table by splattering paint on it.  i remember getting my first sketchbook- a small, simple one. it didn't even have a cover, it was just a couple of pages bound together with glue and cardboard. i remember finding a box of 6 fabric paints and using them until they dried up.


nostalgia is bittersweet.

guitar riffs.

"to avoid criticism,
say nothing
do nothing
be nothing''
                 -elbert hubbard





reflecting on the past few years, maybe i've arrived at this realization too late but the sole reason everything happened the way it did is because i wanted to be myself.
not to sound edgy or anything, but the fact that they had called me satanic over my music choices seems pretty laughable now but back then as a barely corrupt 11 year old, it was like everything i had ever built for myself came crumbling down.

of course, i wish that was the end of it.

things happened as i came closer to figuring out who i wanted to be. most of them weren't necessarily good but there were a few instances here and there that propelled me just a little bit forward.
i guess im grateful for that.

but now, i've been in the same class as them for two years. it hasn't gotten to me as much as i thought it would. thing is, even though i had drifted off to a fitful sleep the first few months after screaming the energy out of myself, it's slightly better now.

i barely notice them. i can look up, look past them, look at the teacher and pay attention. i'm not shit scared about having to face them everyday. i doubt that slight dread that settles at the bottom of my stomach won't leave until i've completely restarted everything but at least, it's better.


maybe it's because i'm nothing.