A brother’s worst nightmare
Finger slipped around a loop
Tugging closer towards freckles.
You shake.
Are you nervous?
Do I make you-

Interrupted by a smirking mouth.
As suave as a sheep
And you’ve entered my wolf den.

But my love is ice cream.
Brain-freezing.
Better straight to your head,
Than your hips.

Forgive forward thinking.
It’s just that
Planners like fences and 2.5
Puppies of course.

It’s my nature.
What’s next?
What now?
You’re out of your fucking mind.

I promise
I’m as in as a boy’s first time.
At least kind of.
But I’m drinking the kool-aid.
Less offended with every sip.

Proudly flaunting a pink mustache
For a spot in your distractions.

Using this as my diary…

I don’t do well with change. I am possibly making a huge change. I am definitely making some smaller changes. I have this horrible tendency to keep doing the same thing even when I’m unhappy because I fear any alternative. This causes me to get stuck in ruts. This causes me to waste precious time on permanently broken relationships. This sends me into the same patterns of up and down with my mama. 

There have been very few occasions where I’ve done anything out of the ordinary. It’s not that I’m a boring person. I like to think that there are some people that might even find me intriguing. I’m just not one for the unknown. I’m a compulsive planner. I need to know what’s next.

 

More importantly, I need to stop needing to know. I’m trying to recognize and appreciate that I am a forward thinker, but also not to decide that anything other than a planned path that I have already investigated will end in death and agony. I live my life with one foot in the nest. I’m always ready to jump back in, to go home, to snuggle with my puppy. 

I need to learn how to just- be. 

 

Breathing. Feeling. Experiencing. It’s so hard for me to let things be easy. I’m going to try very hard to start letting go- to start giving myself a little more slack.

 

It’s all going to work out. Eventually.

Here’s a thing that I wrote.

Draw me.

Run finger tips and small lips

Over a landscape of twisted bones.

 

Don’t worry.

And I exhale.

A song plays with a chorus of ‘run’.

But my eyes are closing,

My heavy head is falling.

 

Let’s just rest here for a while.

 

You know I could go if I wanted to!

But what’s an empty threat

To a room full of patient embraces?

Fine.

But you can’t make me say it.

 

I’ll hint, infer, and lead you to believe,

But fear is a disease.

Emotions induce choking.

Do you really want to kill me?

 

Know in my voice.

Feel in my trembling.

When cheeks turn pink and eyes are down,

Imagine my lips making those sounds.

A New Year

Remember all those things that I thought I knew? 

Turns out I was wrong.

 

I find myself slipping into a terrifying, yet comfortable unknown. He was my friend. Now he’s more. I feel safe. I have never felt so safe. I mean that as the world’s biggest compliment. 

I just wish that there was less explaining to do. I don’t want to have to defend how I feel. I don’t want to upset other people. I just want to escape to an island with him, and a bunch of journals, and brussel sprouts, and beer, and sour patch kids, and just live. 

Other people SERIOUSLY bother me.