when nothing means so much.

it's cold. it's summer. i miss the heat and sticky salty sweet skin. i wish i was gone to a place other than here. i wish i could sell these feelings for profit. i hope they can be beneficial to someone. someday. i pray my children listen. i did. i want them to listen harder. more closely than i did. i want them to listen to me, and themselves.

i'm beginning to recognize the ways in which we trick ourselves into thinking that we are okay, when we aren't. rebounds and divorce parties. drowning in inebriation and lust spells. fucking strangers for screams and calling it love making. motioning through prayer with no feeling or good intention. holding back the tears to avoid seeming weak, when holding them in only likens you to a crumbling building made of brick. telling secrets to strangers who couldn't care less for you, and couldn't care more for themselves.

this blog is so disorderly. unedited. words missing because my fingers moved over the keys too quickly. because my mind moved over my thoughts too quickly. if i wasn't me, i would barely be able to read it without a headache being induced. whatever i said, i needed to say. whenever it came out, it needed to come. like vomit. still, undigested, rotten food. i read over it to remind myself of what not to do. it takes me back, and makes my chest tight. irreversible mistakes. i vent because i care. i'm too prideful to say what i wanted to say next. i'm almost back to normal. broken lovers know nothing of pride. if they do, they always catch a fleeting case of amnesia immediately after being crushed.

tell nina to keep going. tell her she'll be fine. tell her that i love her.

fuck these hoes.