Ladders.

I'm sure it's not so bad after a while, sleeping on your own. Once the pillows lose your scent and the warm dent in the mattress misplaces your shillouette. I cannot even force the will to sleep in my own bed, it just reminds me of you. I close my eyes, can almost feel skin on skin. Your gentle embrace.

Desperate for the pillows to whisper sweet nothings upon my temples, "sluggy i love you." Replacing the butterly kisses for zebra stripes, face mapped out by heartbreak.

I starved myself for 4 days, i just wanted to look lovely for you. I spent hours attempting a masterpiece to set your eyes upon. Primed, framed, signed. I cried for what seemed years as my effort was neglected. Watercolour taxi seats and streetlights.

I wanted to inhale your hands, your arms, your torso, your breath. But now its just myself and the thought of you, and how it won't be so bad sleeping on your own.

My Babadook.

     There's alot you can figure out about yourself whilst you're curled up motionless at the bottom of a rapidly cooling bathtub, staring at the wrinkled skin around the cuticles of ones toenails. And it doesn't matter how long you lounge, no amount of scrubbing or cleaning or desperate pleading can clean the tarnished soul now living inside of you. You are dirty. No sugarcoating, no softening or dampening. You, are dirty. A dirty soul for dirty thoughts and actions hand-in-hand. You can feel it too.
     I can't stop it. All i can do, is lay in the bathtub night after night and wait for slumber to once again make any form of contact. Minutes turn into hours and hours turns into the bars that trap me inside my own head, and that is where you are waiting. What is a girl to do? Nobody told me that when you are young and scared of the dark, monsters are not the only thing waiting for you to close your eyes. There's something much worse, something else waiting for you to slip into the void between the conscious and subconscious, something that your parents never mentioned in hope that you'd never be forced to meet it, something that doesn't diminish when you reach for the light..... and that monster is known as guilt.
     It eats away at you until you are an empty shell of who you once were, leaving just enough of you behind so noone would even notice you were gone. But now i don't know what to do. I let it in and it's consumed my whole body, i'm stuck in the four walls of my mind, screaming from the inside and all i can see is darkness. And you. I haven't forgotten about you. You're the one who summoned it here and i foolishly let it in, why did i let it in?
    I have never been in this position before, i constantly promised myself "it's not that bad, people have done worse" but i lied and i believed it. This is how it must feel on the other side and now i'm standing here with every single person who hurt me comparing notes and praying for forgiveness. How can i be happy when i keep ruining things for myself? People change, and i am changing, manifesting into a monster which i cannot control. I hate who i have become.

                     I'm afraid of meeting decent people, in fear i'll eat them alive too.

     So i guess all i'm left with is this porcelain cradle and a tanks worth of cold water, minutes will turn into hours and hours into thoughts and flickering eyelids. Maybe soon i'll have learnt how to breathe underwater, just so i can find the words to apologize to you for the monster i have become.

What ties me to you is guilt.

You look reasonably happy for someone who is not.

I don't want to die alone and not be found till my bones are clean and the rent overdue.

Crave. 13

You're tragic, I'm tragic.

I can't believe i continued to respect you, even after you'd taken the food from my mouth.

You starved me for so long, and you just stole the oxygen from my already sunken lungs.

Co2

And it just keeps on coming. Constant verbal mistakes. Things i say that i shouldn't indulge upon. The cake that you shouldn't taste and share with your friends, but you offer it around like an unwanted animal at a grimey house party. Have your cake, eat it and choke upon it.

Strings.

Take me. Take me and fold me into a million tiny shapes. Mold and manipulate me, pushing me through holes and infinite voids. Use me, consume me, break me until my ends are rough with wear.

I'm completely captivated by you.

With Love.

Now i think about it i never really did get a chance to desperately tell you how much you ment to me. I made the sincere mistake of never letting you know what loosing you would actually do to me.
      You were beautiful, with the kind of eyes that could warm me from the inside like a sweet milky cup of tea on a bitter December morning, (If you remember rightly we met in December). You WERE my milky cup of tea, and when my lips touched you and i inhaled your painfully addictive warmth everything and almost anything seemed better. You were good for me, in fact you were even better. And not the 'You're perfect' kind of good, the kind of good which lights up your soul and grows and continuously gets brighter and illuminates any dark cobwebbed corner that could have potentially been dead and untouched for years. You made me feel alive after feeling nothing but dull bitterness for so long.
      I tickled you almost everytime i saw you, not to aggravate you like you first thought, but just to simply see you smile, because to me, that smile was like ecstasy. It cradled my tummy and forced my head to cloud with dizziness. Its one of the many things about you which no matter how desperately hard i try, it will never leave me. So many things remind me of our time we spent together, they make your name resound in my head like and annoying clang or a consistent buzz of tinitus that could keep me awake at night.

I just wanted to tell you that you still keep me up late at night. You're my insomnia and I'm sorry i lost you but thank you for the plethora of emotions you made me discover.