Confessions Of A Pissed Off Optimist

And baby, you’re like a rain storm and I’m paper thin

And my fingers are the tightropes that words just fall off of

You make me shake like china in the cabinet when the bomb was just dropped and I can’t even explain how good it feels,

Jesus, you’re like heaphones around my throat when I wake up in the morning,

The simplicity that lulled my to sleep wrapped around my life line, cannot be cut.

You make me feel fragile, like the days when the jabs just rattled around underneath my skin and cut from the inside

But now it’s butterflies and lady bugs and you turn my laugh into bubbles

While every sphere floats the next octave higher,

And honey, they don’t teach you how to hold your breath through space while they treat you like a star, baby, you’re a nebula and I’m just a shooting star passing through.

Andrea Gibson said that sometimes the easiest thing to do is remind yourself that other people feel this way too. That is what it is to cope.

Unity. That was the feeling.

With the base reverburating in your lungs and the drums on your thighs, the vocals falling from your fingers like rain drops do, so desperate to hold on but so beautiful to let go

and In the dark that all too often houses fear I found a home, and the curtains held every note to “you are my sunshine” and the shingles were made out of the jagged edges of sheet music that was ripped much to much a much too soon as a result of frustration

And the hand that has become more than a part of myself was warm and dry, reminding me of my eyes on the days when it just didn’t hurt, on the days that the sun shone and we ran down the side walk like the apocalypse wasn’t near, and you were far but so close and I just held you

And I felt the vibration in my head and I realized it was you, humming the lullabye that you prayed would put me to sleep when my heart was to heavy to hold

And our vocal chords screamed like kite strings, and the hearts were beating off rhythm. We had all been hurt. That we all knew. I stayed in the dark with you.

Unity.

And the the bass could be bitten, so thick on the ground like a step to the mike that seems more than a mile long, a mile wide, the numbness in our heads that was a more than welcome change from the day to day stress, unhappiness, unfulfillment.

Other people feel this way too.

We are not children. We are not leaving, nor coming. We are not scared. 

We were falling in love all over again.

Smoke was in the air, manifestos of dreams going up in smoke and for awhile we are not desperate, we are each filling the holes in each other’s chests, left from the girl who never called, the mom who forgot, the boy that didn’t know “no”, the father that pained.

We were falling in love all over again.

And it was invincibility. There was not tomorrow or today. There was not next year or last year. We were there and it was then. There is no past.

We all knew that in three hours we would be gone, and that would be okay. For now we were wrapped in the beats that were more than harmonious, reminding us to sing in the shower and to stop listening to our own heartbeats when we’re falling asleep,

We were falling in love all over again.

Other people feel this way, too.

shesanargonaut:

• Lungs can be punctured by stingrays.
• Socks are an efficient and disturbing abomination.
• Jellyfish exist in hordes.
• And so do stars.
• And sand.
• And birds.
• And insects.
• And people.
• And breaths. Beautiful, beautiful breaths.
• Breathing should be treated as an art form. Each inhalation, a signature from the respiratory system itself.
• When having sex, do not think. Feel. Express. Moan. Fuck voraciously, make love tenderly.
• Trees have their entire lives mapped out within their torsoes just as we have ours mapped along our palms.
• When praying, do not be greedy. Whisper each word like it is your very first whisper, for it is.
• Ramen is and always will be cheap.
• Mornings look better on rooftops or at the edge of something very tall.
• Evenings look better beneath the silhouette of a forest, a crowd of stars shining for your gaze.
• “I love you” is a very simple and complex phrase. Be careful with it.
• Hearts are made out of everything.
• But they are not indestructible.
• Hands and bodies are to be held, gently and with need.
• Scars are to be traced repeatedly.
• Everything we do is insignificant for we are merely particles of the universe, specks of dust traveling through the dark.
• Everything we do is significant for we are the universe to the atoms in our skin, giants who know how to block out the sun with the width of our very hands.

(via squeats)

Skin against skin

childlike fingers prying desperately farther

pushing innocents

whispers wandering aimlessly around the ever present question

“will you still be there in the morning?”

And I imagined that my heart was encased in glass and every beat had to be fragile enough to keep it together.

I am stronger than this.

And stained glass lungs caressed origami thoughts in the form of paper cranes, an exhalation from flying away.

It’s the kind of shakey that makes me swear to god i’ll be somebody after my shot down dreams are electrified again. like watching Nina speak or being shaken by some words on a page.

The number of nights you were saved by the blankets on your bed, and the band aids that held together the summer nights that you still remember now. Feel the childhood leak through your pores and swear to god that you’re not an adult yet. 

My new pants are a size three.

My new dress is a medium.

Something needs to change.