What hurt the most was knowing

You’re the person I’d want to call

moments – untitled 2

Vancouver, May 2016:

a late spring night,
watching the city lights
reflect on the water
discovering
a tall dark stranger
$2 soft-serve from McDonald’s for dinner

his kiss tastes like vanilla

Once I get home,
I’m watching my phone
waiting
refreshing
waiting

alone

nothing.

once again, it meant nothing

I roll over in my borrowed bed
Book a bus ticket for this weekend instead

What does it matter?
This isn’t my home
I set off to the next place
alone

transit – temporal

mornings are good times to travel
because everything is new & full of potential

conquering the world in the dark and unknown
is only okay when you’re traveling home

Light 3 – Sun

January 2018 – Costa Rica

The light disappeared slowly, then all at once over the horizon. It was like in the middle of the day when all I wanted was for the sun to go away because it was too strong and I didn’t want to burn but then it was gone

and I’m only left with stars

well, the fluorescent lights that replace them in the city night
that I thought were so pretty from afar
but they aren’t warm like you are

moments – our love is not God

February 2017

“This Town” – Niall Horan / “Suburbia” – Troye Sivan

//

after feeling it all fall apart with the boy upstairs, visions of Heathers dance in my head

as I lie in the darkness, alone in bed. 
So scared of losing the God I used to idealize 

I know I’m supposed to draw, or sleep, but all I can do is wait and play these two songs on repeat 
Snow falls on the cold city outside my window 

where everyone I care about 

is out 

without me

Night lights

blue black and purple-grey clouds

obscure the illusory love with fog and doubt

Nostalgia embedded in every street of the blue neighborhood in California I used to inhabit

Was it ever real? The love Lana sings about? The one that matters, the one that I so badly want to feel

I always think I have it

until a month goes by, and it’s no longer ride-or-die. 
they were never what I wanted; it’s the idea I’ve always been in love with. 

desperately mourning something that never was

moments – untitled

March 16, 2017

It’s dark in your bed, but outside the window there’s city lights

Our hands clasped

On the edge of a cliff, I’m holding on for dear life

What does it mean? What matters?

And love? It’s alright

Sharing soft words I didn’t know you knew,

You ask me things I don’t let myself think in the daylight