foggyghostx

[foggyghostx]

bruise my lips

[foggyghostx]

a void that refuses to be filled

[foggyghostx]

storm drains

There isn’t much else that glimmers the way a city does in the rain. Boston, particularly, with its winding and ruthless roads, has fractals of light everywhere. Especially in the rain. The city lights glisten off the pavement puddles, and with each unique curve in the light, colors bend and warp. This isn’t like New York - gridlined, no. Boston is far more confusing. And the way the chilled, damp wind snaps around the curves of the streets makes you wonder why this isn’t the “Windy City.” It’s charming when it’s not unbearably frigid, similarly when it is not unbearably scorching, it really is a charming city. The only problem is, love has only ever happened here, and love has only ever ended here. This is it. The start, and the end. The same buildings that glisten in the rain and the same fog that rests so low on damp days have watched both the start and the end, over and over and over again. Makes you wonder if they’re mad. The rain, the puddles, the fog. Aren’t they so sick of watching the same failure in this city? When it rains, it gleams, like no other city. So beautiful to me. But each time I fail. Each time, I let them down. I figure it’s my fault. They say they are too busy, or too stressed, but really, it’s me. I love the city, especially when it looks like she is crying; tears of rain streaming down her cheeks made of buildings. And you can hear the crying, the puddles and streams on the road running off into the storm drains. Pitters and patters. The spatter of rainwater onto the sidewalk from cars and buses. I can hear her. Yet I love her this way, because I know she is not really sad, just a bit run down. She too has seen love begin and end. Triumph and failure. Joy and darkness. They are not mad at me - the rain, the puddles, the fog. They are just like me. So, love begins, and so it ends, and so it begins again.

[foggyghostx]

the other end of the phone

hi!

i have too much love to give, its boiling over inside me, and i can't help it!

i can't help it!

it hurts! it really hurts!

please help me! i've had enough! i can't do it anymore!

please! help! stop! make it stop! please!

i can't take it anymore!

stop! stop! stop!

help me, please! it's too much!

[foggyghostx]

a little notebook cleanout ｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

entry one

-

i felt like i was dipped in creativity when i met you, just sopped in it. joyously, all i could do was pour it out.

then, when you left, it all went bone-dry. the only thing left damp were my cheeks from the tears in my eyes. the tap silenced, not even a drop left.

to wonder if it bothers you.

i beg into nothingness to replenish my tap. i bargain with no one to free my mind. because you took something so honest and gentle, and ripped it out, ground it up, even the rind.

i claw at the disaster again, and plead to nothingness. give me my light back.

———

entry two

-

i have a new life in the city now.

took the train past the museum, walked up boylston. just as we did, in the freezing cold.

now it’s hot - a hot, hot august.

going by the museum, i see the ghost of the line that wrapped all the way down the block, i can hear the echos of our conversations.

some of it is faint, and some of it is clear, some things i can’t remember, or make out, some i couldn’t hear.

but i do remember there on the steps, right before we went in. it was where you told me i was beautiful.

and walking down boylston after our first kiss, echos of stupid conversation, debates of the best fast food, you took my bag because it wouldn’t stop slipping off my shoulder.

buildings you pointed out, your favorites that you walk by. they’re still there. but so am i.

it’s ghosts and echos now. and they make me want to cry.

but now i walk and take it in as my own. new job, new apartment, new friends.

it hurts. and you still suck. but this is reclamation. this is now mine.

———

entry three

-

pressed against your car door,

leaning back, the world spins.

my world is about to flip.

will you follow?

[foggyghostx]

i love u oomf

I LOVE U OOOOMF

[foggyghostx]

i took a shower this morning,

but i didn’t wash my hair.

it smelled like cigarettes.

it looks terrible,

but i wanted to keep that lingering bit of you.

[foggyghostx]

i fear i am too vast.

i would rather squeeze into a box than be scrutinized for not belonging to any one of them.

[foggyghostx]

the bouquet hangs like a cross on my wall,

a forged religion left to die.

i left a church once before,

i can’t bring myself to leave this one, even if the cross is all that is left behind.

[foggyghostx]

alternatively.

Looking at the digital clock, red numbers aglow, the light doesn’t outstretch to where the room is graced with a moonlit hum. There, between these two echoing waves of luminescence, a shadow rests. A deep, deep, shadow, that you look into like you look to the bottom of the ocean. Unseen endlessness. These shadows exist in other ways, between other glints and gleams, these shadows pool up, with no discernable depth. There in those shadows, in this void, I indulge in the belief of other existence. Within these voids rests parallels, souls, worlds unknown. Since we cannot see what these shadows conceal, there is no way to say what does or does not lie beyond them. Maybe that is not a fair way to argue it, but what in this world is fair? In this world, lest I can imagine, lest I can enjoy. But in that one - there I can go as I please. There, those multiverses, those lost longings, those creatures I wish to meet. I imagine a warm, overdue greeting when I arrive in those worlds. Maybe in one of them, you still love me. Maybe in another, beloved pets live forever. Another, entities roar and garner a respect lost in this one. And another, there’s two moons in the sky, and each star talks. Universes await, and in each one I am welcomed. Floating in a fleeting world, only to disappear when the sun rises again, or when you turn on a light.

[foggyghostx]

mortal unfairness

"I love you." No, that's not it. "Existence is tiresome without you." Not that either. Think, you silly girl, think. "To exist without you is to forget how to breathe. To forget myself, my soul, my everything. You are a part of me, you are a wound that never closes, you are my scars and my smiles..." Not quite. I need something more, something... Right. "My heart yearns for the impossible. You have started a war I cannot win. And that, mortal enemy of mine, cannot ever be deemed fair." The truth will do nicely. The last of the ink blotted, she watched her words fade, the ink cement itself into the fibres of the parchment as she caressed its edges. Then, she pressed the letter to her lips, and cast it to the fire. The ashes would swallow her words, the fire would consume the guilt that gnawed at her stomach - she hoped.

[foggyghostx]

old and also new

When you found me, I was on a shelf. Dusty, used, longed for, yet forgotten. Then I met you. You plucked me off of the shelf. You brushed the dust off me, patted me on the head, And said, You will be fine my love. You will be mine. You will be loved. You showed me love for a short time. Then, one day, you did what everyone else had done. You found a new doll.  You put me back on the shelf, and soon enough, there she was. Now I shall collect the dust once again. 

[foggyghostx]

sick to my stomach knowing you might be happy

[foggyghostx]

i turn over the dice,

one, four, three,

and you must turn them back - even if you aren’t thinking of me.

[foggyghostx]

i will never forget the color of your eyes.

unfortunately that is only my demise.

[foggyghostx]

I wanted to be like you. Literarily enlightened. Therefore I started reading more,  maybe my vocabulary would be heightened. I wanted to tell you all that I had learned. Then we could talk for all that time would allow. I wanted to write you a note in a book, so sure that we would share our lives now. Now I cant pick up a book without thinking of you. Happy?

[foggyghostx]

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