"- Texts Better Left Unsent | Ramna Safeer (via inkywings)
The more texts I type out to you and never send, the less I remember about your voice. The less I remember about your voice, the more I realize there are entire things I have yet to say to you. Like how ferris wheels make my whole stomach laugh and my knees ache for ground. Like how Las Vegas is the city my father fell in love the second time, except this time with the queen on the back of a playing card and not the one waiting for him at home. Like how I am dozens of lifetimes away from forgetting but always seconds away from forgiving. Like how I miss you. Like how I don’t. Like I how I lie sometimes.
You are a bowl of cherries in the lap of a schoolboy. You are the reddest juice leaking from between his teeth afterwards. You are the moments he stares at himself in the mirror and mistakes it all for blood. You are the second his mother sees him run by in the hallway and mistake her baby boy for a murderer or the murdered. We are all making guesses we know are wrong. We are all always throwing our lives into cages of hurting, even when they are not built for us. You are the way we never stop. You are the way I never seem to stop.
Tonight, I am tripping on flat surfaces and learning to become faceless. I am watching the corners for shadows other than my own. I am crossing my fingers for a day when erasing your name from the margin of my notebook means I will never be able to scribble it back in again. I am waiting for the day when I can walk past a row of cages and not feel as though these arms need bending into them. Tonight, I pull out my phone and it waters my eyes with its glow in this dark and through the blur I type, “Fuck you. Come back. Fuck you.”"
Chicagoan. 23. Gemini. Loced.Tattooed. Hopeless Romantic. So ambitious it's sickening.