San Antonio Texas
Feel free to ask me questions!
We teach our sweet little girls
to be liars and fakers
from a young age:
No, I’m not hungry.
Wow, that feels great.
No, I don’t blame you.
Yes, I love you.
No, I’m fine.
My mom taught me something about relationships when I was growing up. She told me to never be the one to love the other person more. I always thought that was odd. That was until I saw how my mom loved my dad more and let him leave bruises on her skin. That was until I found my best friend drunk, bleeding on her bathroom floor, because the boy she loved more broke her heart and left. That’s why when I start to fall I catch myself. I don’t want to be the one to love more because I’ve seen what that does to people. Oh, but god do I love you more.
My mother warned me about cigarettes that could cause cancer
But she never told me that self-hatred can grow faster than any tumour ever could
My father warned me that I should never stop thinking
But he never told me that overthinking would kill my happiness
My sister warned me about other people who might make hurtful comments about me
But she never told me that instead of hearing someone else’s voice, I’d hear my own
My brother warned me about drugs in baggies sold on the street,
But he never told me about the ones that people put in your glass when you’re not looking
My grandmother warned me about the devil with his tail and red horns
But she never told me about his angelic smile and dark, ocean blue eyes
My grandfather warned me about booze that could kill
But he never told me that if you drink enough alcohol, it tastes like love
My cousin warned me that I should love my virginity to a guy I love
But she never told me he should love me, too
My aunt warned me that if I kept eating that much, I might vomit
But she never told me that even without eating anything, you can hang over the toilet and puke
My baby sitter warned me that a boy could break my heart
But she never told me that if I made him mad, he’d also break my arm and nose
My teacher warned me about dangerous men with knives that could cut my throat
But she never told me that I didn’t need these men to cut my skin
They all warned me that I shouldn’t do dangerous things that could kill me
But I never had the chance to ask them if slitting both of my wrists vertically
And taking thirty-eight aspirins, was one of these dangerous things
Have you ever driven headfirst into a thunderstorm?
My friends all told me you were fucking dangerous.
That you would fracture every piece of me that was still intact.
They told my heart to look out.
But I’ve dealt with scars before,
And I know that the best stories are the ones that come from the moments
That leave you with broken ribs and gasping lungs.
I don’t want a careful love that meanders in sunflower gardens,
I want recklessness that runs headfirst for the edge of the cliff,
Not giving a second fucking thought about if the black water below
Will shatter our bodies or not.
I want your spine to melt when I kiss your lips.
I want my knees to tremble as if Vesuvius lost her temper again.
I want to find the lightning bolts as I run my fingers through your cloud of hair.
I know you are dangerous.
I know you take lovers and sink your teeth into their skin.
If this all goes to hell,
I wouldn’t mind having a few marks to remember you by.