Photog by Peter Vidani
Powered by Tumblr
You can’t hate me for loving you. You can’t hate me for my invisible sadness. I feel so small around you. I hate the way you look at me, like I am some poor, defenseless animal dying on the sidewalk. I want to scream when I see you. I want to throw you against a wall and beat you until I’ve bruised you down to your skeleton. I can’t leave my room thinking I might see you and dissolve into a puddle of tears. I hate you and I love you. I’m so in awe of you and yet so incredibly terrified of you. Of your power over me, how intense my craving for you is. All my life I have tried to defy the feeling of need, convincing myself that I need nothing in this world that does not already reside within myself. And then you come along, with your cool smile, creating a burning beneath my skin that seared my mind with nothing but the feeling of need so intense, breaking down my facade completely. Filling me with a love and desire so deep, only to leave my in a low, so low, psychiatric hospitals and doctors we’re begging me to sign myself away to them in order to save a life. What happened to the days of running from cops, spreading chaos and anarchy through city streets, making plans for the future and devouring each other in my bed every. single. night. I miss the way you curve and bend and dip and arch and rise and fall like a poem. I miss your voice lulling me to sleep. The muscle in your jaw that twitches in you sleep. The laughter at the corner of your eyes. The way you dress and undress. I miss my body next to yours and the way I feel weightless when you toss me around. I miss the sweat that pools at the bottom of your back and the smell of your hair when you haven’t showered in a month. I realize I may never have you again. I know, I know, I know. Too sad. To damaged. Too intense. I know all the reasons, I have more reasons for you to not be with me than to be with me. But there will be a hole in my heart that you once filled. It will grow smaller and smaller with time, as much as I may not want it to. The memories of you will lose their vitality and slowly begin to haunt my dreams less and less. I hope I see you the next time I hop a train. I’ll still hate you. I’ll still love you.

You can’t hate me for loving you. You can’t hate me for my invisible sadness. I feel so small around you. I hate the way you look at me, like I am some poor, defenseless animal dying on the sidewalk. I want to scream when I see you. I want to throw you against a wall and beat you until I’ve bruised you down to your skeleton. I can’t leave my room thinking I might see you and dissolve into a puddle of tears. I hate you and I love you. I’m so in awe of you and yet so incredibly terrified of you. Of your power over me, how intense my craving for you is. All my life I have tried to defy the feeling of need, convincing myself that I need nothing in this world that does not already reside within myself. And then you come along, with your cool smile, creating a burning beneath my skin that seared my mind with nothing but the feeling of need so intense, breaking down my facade completely. Filling me with a love and desire so deep, only to leave my in a low, so low, psychiatric hospitals and doctors we’re begging me to sign myself away to them in order to save a life. What happened to the days of running from cops, spreading chaos and anarchy through city streets, making plans for the future and devouring each other in my bed every. single. night. I miss the way you curve and bend and dip and arch and rise and fall like a poem. I miss your voice lulling me to sleep. The muscle in your jaw that twitches in you sleep. The laughter at the corner of your eyes. The way you dress and undress. I miss my body next to yours and the way I feel weightless when you toss me around. I miss the sweat that pools at the bottom of your back and the smell of your hair when you haven’t showered in a month. I realize I may never have you again. I know, I know, I know. Too sad. To damaged. Too intense. I know all the reasons, I have more reasons for you to not be with me than to be with me. But there will be a hole in my heart that you once filled. It will grow smaller and smaller with time, as much as I may not want it to. The memories of you will lose their vitality and slowly begin to haunt my dreams less and less. I hope I see you the next time I hop a train. I’ll still hate you. I’ll still love you.