spilled ink – Page 23

Silence is not always peaceful, and peace is not always found in silence.

but once you are at peace in yourself, your soul will always be still // a.s.m

the floor of my room is
covered in color-coded
boxes with labels
and yet i can’t quite fit
myself into one.

i am between two universes:
not quite home, not quite
ready to build a new one.
not quite me, not quite
sure who ‘me’ even is.

embracing ambiguity
was never my strong suit;
i’ll fold my body into a box
of my winter clothes
in hopes that
i will dig myself
out in
a few months.

finding me, leaving home. how can i pack my entire childhood into a box? // a.s.m

a 19-year-old virgin,
i am broken because
the cover of ‘Cosmo’ says
“20 tips for the best sex ever"
and instead of it sparking
curiosity, i cringe.

a 19-year-old something–
something that i’m not quite
sure of yet–
i am broken because i am the only one
in my group of friends
who hasn’t given a blow job,
i am the only one who doesn’t understand
what ‘horny’ feels like.

a 19-year-old something:
something i am growing to hate and
to be embarrassed of
i am broken because the words
on the magazines don’t talk about
soul mates or "20 tips for the best
heart-to-heart 3-am pillow fort
conversations with your partner
ever."
instead of wanting what is sold,
i am longing for something that doesn’t
seem to exist.

a 19-year-old someone
who has learned that
words can steal the roof off your home
and leave you
exposed
i am broken because
they can pull you apart,
they can dissect you and stick you
under a microscope,
they can make you feel less than
whole.

a 20-year old demisexual,
i am learning
i am not broken because
ten letters can be the foundation
of a home, a family,
to knowing you are not
alone.
ten letters can help you
find yourself.

for people who say labels are stupid: i want you to understand why sometimes they aren’t // a.s.m

where your life’s supposed to start
to fall apart
to see the world
to burn the one i made for myself
to find home
to leave the only one i’ve ever known
to start a life
has nothing before this counted as ‘life’?
to figure out
you can’t figure it all out
there’s nothing new after this
it’s the same life in a different light
you’ll be fine.

scarlet skies shout
bloody
rage
at the sci-fi
horror story human society
has become.
there is
no more peace in the blackness
of night. only gunshots,
only cries for
justice
and the children who
are gone now.
in a time where
empty hands aren’t a crime
unless those hands aren’t white.

sooty-black skies
yell one hundred and thirty five names in the night
you say their names, you say their names
but don’t tell them their rights.
in a time where living in
the Land of the Free means
people must fight for their lives.

these sidewalks are not
battlefields and
these streets were not paved to be
cemeteries.
who will protect you from the ones
who were supposed to be
protecting us?
in a time where we preach equality
but continue to sweep
injustice under the rug.

for every unarmed black man and woman who has been killed by police, for their families and friends, for all people of color who have to fight for the basic human right to live when they shouldn’t have to. black lives matter. // a.s.m

my heart hangs
from the ceiling fan; a kite
i never really learned
how to fly.
a bloody carousel
i paid too much
to ride.
an exhibit
to be displayed for the rest
of my life, my remains sit
behind plastic wrap walls
that
leave no handprints,
eternally orbiting
emptiness.

modern art bleeding heart // a.s.m

i am running
in circles from
one dead end to another
with nothing to pour myself
into but the corners of these walls
that silently scream with
termites from within.

and i’m suffocating myself
with warm whispers
in ziploc bags. little
presents; promises
that were made to be broken

by gentle arms and
gentler lips.

i am inhaling stale air.

what was once
fresh is now foul,
no longer breathable, no longer able
to sustain life.

dead (end) // a.s.m

birthdays,
thunderstorms, new relationships,
flowers blooming,
last goodbyes,
tears,
kisses,
weddings,
leaves falling,
sun setting,

first hello’s,
deep laughs that make your eyes
water and your stomach hurt,
sun rising,

long hugs,
flowers withering,

learning self love,
a small orb in a vast
universe spinning
on its axis three hundred and sixty six times
and me
learning to live
without you.

things that happen in a year // a.s.m

Do not forget that you are a flower, my love. You require both sunlight and rain in order to bloom.

you cannot grow with only sunlight: there is a reason the universe puts us through hard times; allow yourself to learn and grow from them.

You started off as an addiction with an exhilarating high, but you’ve dwindled into more of a habit.

inspired by the shins: “so affections fade away, and do adults just learn to play the most ridiculous repulsive games?” // a.s.m