i’m spitting up little bits of myself. it’s okay. i don’t know why they call it breaking a heart. it feels like you took it in your fist and tore it apart. like if you squeeze something too much it pops. it’s good. i knew you would do this, i just forgot. something about you made me forget. i knew you would break me. i just wanted to pretend.

wide open

you caught me on a bad day

do you know how my chest caved in with each breath when i found out my baby cousin died? how his tiny fingers curled into a fist as he fought so fucking hard for his last breath? did you know how i, years later, still hear his screams on the 3rd of october?

you caught me on a bad day

did you know how at 4 years old, i knelt at the feet of my father, tears leaving bitter trails down my cheeks as i begged him to stay? did you know i changed? did you know how i dug my nails on my thighs leaving bloody moons to suppress and swallow back any protest when he left? how i, years later, stopped begging anyone to stay?

you caught me on a bad day

did you know at 13, i learned what puppy love is? did you know he gave me white roses and explained it reminded him of me, something pure, something innocent, something unbroken? did you know he gave me a ring before he left? did you know how i threw it away because he became too close? how i, years later, learned no one is going to stay therefore, i had to leave them first?

you caught me on a bad day

did you know how i would abandon all my friends in exchange for a temporary fix for my wanderlust? how i would switch schools every two years just because i learned i should never love anyone too much, never let anyone close enough, never let anyone hold me down? how i, years later, realized i’m thinking about breaking that habit?

you caught me on a bad day

did you know you actually gave me a reason to stay despite all the shit you’ve done? did you know how that makes me so fucking angry at myself because i know each time, i’d forgive you? did you know how i, for the first time in fucking years, wanted to stay in one place so bad because you’d be here?

do you know how much that scares me? do you know how much it hurt to know that you’re leaving? did you know my thighs have bloody crescents whenever you bring up leaving? did you know how i’d have to choke on my words, convincing you you’ll be happier there? did you know those words were the truth but i wanted to take them back, wanted to be selfish for once? did you know i have to distance myself from you, make you hate me, make you want someone else just so i’d feel the heartbreak sooner than later? how i go out everyday just to take my mind off you, off the thought of another important person leaving me once again? did you know i’ve been writing everyday to you just so i could breathe okay? did you know how i plan to give this notebook to you the day you’d finally leave so i wouldn’t hurt myself longer by seeing you again?

isn’t it better this way? isn’t it better for you to have a blank canvas when you leave so you could fill it up with more beautiful colors? isn’t it better to cut off ties, to hurt ourselves now and to save ourselves from heartbreak? how i pray everyday it only hurts this much now, only to find myself uttering this for a week now and realizing the pain is the only thing that’s going to stay, long after you’ll leave.

did you know i miss you but it’s better this way, you know that, right?

you caught me on a bad life. maybe we’ll see each other on the next one.

I’m telling myself it’s okay. I loved you with my everything and you just needed something different than I could put together. I’m saying I was a building sandcastles kind of person and you always asked why I bothered when it was going to wash away. I think we did our best. I’m saying I know she’ll be better than me in the end but I tried so hard I broke myself for it. That’s what I’ve been saying to myself, I guess: at least you tried. It’s just that you needed something different.

it’s getting messy. lex calls me on tuesday and leaves a voicemail. “i know you’re ignoring calls right now but we miss you.” i listen to that six times in a row and almost text back. everything sounds fake. what am i gonna say. sorry yet again i made you feel like you don’t matter to me. even the sun doesn’t matter to me. even my own body. i mark the message as “unseen” and hope i one day have the energy. getting back is always so many steps, so many apologies. the little things pile up. sorry about that time i let you down. oh and the other one. oh and those small things you never mentioned but we both know bother you. i want to fix things. i do. but i just don’t know how to.

a world where you and i didnt coexist

i dreamed of a world without you,where i was emptied like a fish, my skin unfamiliar when it was untouched by you. i dreamed of a world where we were not one, where you never kissed me by accident and then again on purpose, where the two of us never got caught up in the moment. was i happier there? was i happier not knowing the ending? all i know is that it was a late morning, and i woke up sweating, and i live in the world where i cannot kiss you anymore. it’s okay, almost. i’m figuring out how that works. it’s just that i drank coffee. it’s just i don’t want to go to bed. it’s just i don’t know how to be better off without you. i can’t get you out of my head.

//the sun dreams of murder

‘You’ll kill him,’ Poseidon tells him, with the calm of a sea at its most dangerous. ‘You love him and you won’t mean to, but you will.’

Apollo glances at him sharply, ‘You’re the one who drowns him.’

Poseidon’s smile is smug and serene, and he hates it, ‘Yes.’ Then he’s leaning forward, lips brushing his ear in a caress of salt-wind-wet that would feel too intimate if Apollo didn’t know it to be anything other than spite. ‘But out of ruinous love for you,’ murmurs the sea, ‘it’s into my arms he’ll fall.’

A strangled shout—

A crash of waves against the shore—

and Poseidon is gone.

Apollo remains there, hollowed out and worn because he can picture it all too well. The boy with a heart overfull and yet still so hungry. His eyes, how they’ll turn from ecstasy to agony as he learns that you can be destroyed by what you love. A small eternity of falling, the despair of it and the longing.

He thinks of Icarus’ back, the supple curve he’s so often traced, and the marks he’s put there. Because if the boy is greedy, then oh how the sun is too.

He thinks of Icarus breaking upon the waves and—

an ocean embrace putting him back together, a smile of triumph against soft skin, hands and lips soothing the burns on his back with a pleasure to hide the pain.

Those hands and lips are not his own, and Apollo finds he can barely breathe.

— the sun dreams of murder // (c.ruth)

#421 Icarus with burns on his back

//furor

today i kissed a god. he of bitter rage and tears staining gold-tracks right down his face, hands gripping my shoulders, eyes open, open and staring. what did it feel like? he asked. how does it feel like to kiss something so holy, to feel your insides burning up, every single angel screaming in perfect, damning chorus? today i kissed a god, and told him that nothing he ever did would make him human. today i kissed a god and made him weep.