forgive my mistakes. i wrote for you in blood that you fuel and are a part of. i wrote you me, in hopes you will remember me right.


you see:

if i loved you the basins of our sinks
would be splattered with toothpaste
from the mornings because miraculously
you’d get me to laugh so hard i can’t
form words coherently
you were always a morning person
whereas i was the night type

if i loved you my wrists
would have been covered in bracelets
filled with charms that signified the
brighter days of our lives together
and not with little lines that
kept count of the memories that
you drove through my mind
like a screwdriver

if i loved you the bed would be warm
and not heated with a glacier
of pure disgust towards the other
we’d said that we’d stick it through
but once one of us finally
pushed the needle through
the other’s skin
we broke each other and ended us
all while filling one of us more
whole-heartedly with everything
that we had in us

if i loved you i would not be
sitting in our old living room
wrapped up in your football sweatshirts
piecing together a gift that
you had given me on our anniversary
which was a jigsaw puzzle
of us underneath the eiffel tower
back when we were so fucking
excited that we thought that
we were in love

i cannot piece us together
even if they say that opposites attract
i thought you were looking for the
very same thing that i was but
i fear so much that if i loved you
i would have left earlier.

— if i loved you, you would see - 2014

i used to paint you beautiful
and i would color you and
boldly let everybody know
all the good about you:

but when we called it quits
and you left on me i would
paint you as a hideous monster
who abused me and who
fell in love with another soul

matter of fact is that i cannot
control you from loving another
and the truth is
you deserve better

(i painted you ugly to others
so they would feel the pain and hate
i felt for you and likewise
they would stop talking
about what a monster you were
to my face

i needed you out of my life
so i wouldn’t hear about
everything that you loved
that wasn’t me

i am a monster

who holds themselves at night
while crying into your old shirts
i need you so much closer
and i can’t bear to hear about you

i still paint you beautiful
and i want that all to myself.)

— muse, 2014
"Just try talking about it again.”
— six word story

my mother tells me whenever
i say that i like white boys over
men of my race that materialism
is stupid and that i am a very
stupid young woman:

she thinks that the small things
aren’t important but rather that
the fineries and the labels
are what keeps a relationship alive

and that’s fucking true in a way -
mom and dad have been in a
hellhole of a marriage since ‘93.

obviously that never mattered
because to others my mom and dad
are the union couple that bicker
with a whole lot of love rather
than a whole lot of rage
and i’ve been stuck in between
it since i came into this world

but in this world is mine
i want materialism which means
that i get a varsity letterman jacket

that’s a small thing in her mind
but to me it means everything
because i want the status
and i want the label of something
other than the product of a healthy
marriage (which is total bull)

whenever she tells me that i’m
a stupid stupid woman i tell her
that i agree because to her
i am a woman because i have
stopped growing at five-two
because i understand her
when she says to shut it
because i can read and
because i can walk a road
with my own two feet

to her i am a stupid foolish woman
but i know my labels and i know
the smaller things -
empty bottles of liquor
text messages and calls that
result in an endless rage

i want the small things to last
because in my world she cannot
tell me that i am stupid
yet i am genetically programmed
and set to please a woman who
sits upon an throne she believes
that she reigns from
and she says that i
live in her world.

— materialism, 2014

one day i will drive myself
to the brink of insanity
with each and every single
one of my insecurities:

it’s 1:39 am and i’m thinking
to myself how on earth
did i let something so small
keep me awake endlessly
and when did i consent to
myself becoming a monster?

i know that you think
that i am some queen
but each and every single
crevice that is broken
has been sealed by you
somehow throughout this all

you think you’re in my blood
when all you’re doing is
painting me over bit by bit

i am not your art canvas
maybe a while ago i was my own
but i chose to break the paint
i let myself crumble

and i told my insecurities
that they had won
my priorities are fucked
as you would say: once
i wanted to be a mother and
now i am a monster.

— late night pains, 2014

i fall in love all the time
with people that i have
slowly entwined myself with
and with people that i’ve
barely met

i fall in love easily
and sometimes it’ll be with
a person i cross by on the street
we’ll make eye contact and
it won’t just be locking gazes

it may be brief but in those
short few moments i feel as if
something is holding me down

and my mother says that love
is a damn good anchor
which is reason enough as to why
i fall in love all the time with
people i don’t know but regardless
of it all

it’s simple and love should
be something more simple.

— falling in love twice a day 2014

i’m so afraid that i’ve lost you that i can’t sleep. it’s 1:50 am and i am craving you, needing you, and thinking about you. i cannot write about you because you are not the person to be phrased into a prose that others indulge in. i cannot speak to you because it’s like talking to myself. unresponsive.

"I won’t cry over losing me.”
— mhz

some time ago i would’ve grieved
right by you when you were hurting
and i would try to harbor all your pain
so that you wouldn’t feel obligated
in feeling something so painful

i took each blow that you were
too fucking naïve to take and
i swore that i would feel sorry
over all of your losses because
back then i thought that was right
for me to do as your lover

but now i see that you are not
the lover i once had
i won’t grieve over your losses
because i refuse to mourn over myself

you are a monster and you know it
you have become the very thing
that we feared the other would be

— mhz
"I didn’t lose who you were.”
— six word story, mhz
"One day I will wake up and I won’t feel obligated loving him.”
— a thirteen word reminder to myself, mhz
"You don’t get to deserve me.”
— six word story, mhz
"Keeping you warm means burning myself.”
— six word story, mhz