i think it's funny
how we met in the most ordinary way.
you always said you would die for me
and i never believed you.
you always said i was beautiful
and i never believed you.
you always said i wasn't worthless
and i never believed you.
you always said i wasn't useless
and i never believed you.
you always said you were grateful for me
and i never believed you.
you always said i deserved a happy ending
and i never believed you.
you always said i deserve to be happy
and i never believed you.
you said once
that i deserved better.
and i never believed you
you said all those things
and i still don't believe you.
i don't understand how i could be of value to someone
i can't grasp the concept of someone feeling lucky to have me in their life
i don't get how someone could love me
i don't get why you appreciated me
i don't understand these things
i never have
it doesn't feel real
you never did.
you always said just because it's too good to be true, doesn't mean it is.
and i've never believed you.
do you remember when i told you i'd self harmed?
do you remember when i told you i hated myself?
do you remember when i told you i wanted to die?
do you remember what you said?
you were disappointed.
you were mad.
i couldn't see your eyes
but i knew they were full of disappointment, failure
no, maybe it was just my reflection in your eyes
but what would be the difference?
you see, i don't think i ever stopped hating myself.
i told myself lies in front of the mirror
i told myself,
you are beautiful. you are kind. you deserve happiness. your scars don't matter. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful.
i never quit hating the world i lived in
but you made me hate it a little less
i tell myself i only stayed alive
because i couldn't bring myself to do it
i tell myself
that for all those years
i was suffering, and did not have a reason to live
i remember the look on my parents' faces
when i read to them what i was going to say to you
it was a few weeks
or maybe months
or maybe years
after you'd left
i remember their faces
they cared back then.
i cried in the middle of it, but i continued to speak.
my mom only stared
my dad looked away
and when i did
they didn't know i noticed
but they turned to each other
and spoke without words,
you tell her.
no, i can't. you do it.
it was like a situation where a little kid's goldfish has died and you don't know how to tell them it's dead.
it was exactly like that.
i was told for seven years
seven fucking years
they would hug me and i would cry
they would tell me, over and over,
she's not coming back.
she's gone.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
you'll never see her again.
and i never believed them.
but sadness turned to anger
and before i knew it they were shouting at me,
SHE ISN'T COMING BACK! GET OVER IT!
they were sick and fucking tired of hearing my shit
but i didn't know when to quit.
so that's what i did.
i wrote down your face on all the drawable surfaces i could find
i described you in every journal for years
i drew us together on every page
because that's how i cope.
i write down everything i knew about the person
i put them into poetry, i take their aspects and make them physical
i turn them into art, i scribble their faces onto the edges of my notebooks, i write down their personality and i record our story.
because when i lose someone
that is my one fear.
that i will forget them.
and so when people ask me
why i draw
why i write
i suppose i could say to them, why do you breathe?
but no.
the real answer
is,
because that way
these memories will not end with me.
because when you write
when you create art
you are cheating Death.
why do i write?
why do i draw?
because then,
i will live forever.
you can erase the person from existence
but you can never erase
what they turned physical
i take things from my heart and turn them physical so they will not die
so why i write, you ask?
because being forgotten
is my number one fear.
because when i die
i cannot handle the thought
of that being all of me.
god fucking damn it.
i write and i draw
so that maybe i can't live forever
but the best parts of me can.
we carve our initials into trees
we spray paint our signature onto abandoned buildings
we write our story into a hand-down journal
because when we are dead and gone from this world
when the stardust is ripped from our veins
what does that leave of us?
what we left behind.
so i created this book on this app
so maybe
i could live forever.
maybe in these digital pages
i can live out the earth
we create
because it is our way
of living forever.
we create
because it allows us to live precariously
even if not in our bodies,
it allows us to live forever
and that's what we all want, isn't it?
deep down
we all want to live forever.
we all want to forever see the stars, i guess.
fuck it.
i just can't handle death
surprisingly not even my own.
i need to live forever.
i am fucking petrified
of being forgotten.
it scares me so bad
it terrifies me and maybe you could say it haunts me
so why?
why?
because maybe my heart will outlive me
because this is my way of living forever.
and taylor?
you made me feel like i could.
just maybe
maybe we could live out the stars.
maybe...
could we carve our name into the stars, just one more time?
could i just hug you one more time?
together, we could've ruled the world.
alone
we can't even rule ourselves
no, i can't.
please come back.
i need you.
no, fuck.
i want you back because with you i could control myself
with you, i could control myself
i could keep my seams together.
no, i need you back because of selfish reasons.
no.
it's because i'm terrified of whether you're okay or not
it's because i'm scared not knowing how you are
i'm worthless because you chose your parents over me.
i'm worthless because i wasn't enough
i'm worthless because i couldn't be enough.
i'm worthless because you left me
i'm worthless
because i realized
that you left
because you did not have a reason to stay.
and so i'm sorry.
i'm sorry i wasn't enough for you.
