horribly beautiful ✔️

dried mango and plantain chips

the photo above is a picture i took of your bed.
i like the walls.
they made me feel like i was drowning.

i'm not taking your portrait off my wall.

not because i'm going to miss you, but

because i'm too weak to take it down.

you pursued this thing called recovery,
so you left me in the only home we've ever known.

we never fixed the plumbing;
the waters never hot enough to end the numbing

of my purple bones.

maybe it's ninety degrees out,
but the ghost of you leaves me cold.

so this thursday,
i'm going to new baltimore,
just to get the fuck out of here.

i'm not looking back and i'm not packing  your dried mango and plantain chips;

don't expect a postcard or a polaroid photo

because i'm sick of sending them to empty addresses.

i love my mother and father,
but god,
i wish i was built stronger.

and

i wish i could blow you out like candles on a birthday cake,

but cakes became too expensive

and too hard to digest.

my friend that grew carrots in her hair
was gluten free,

so she brought a flourless cake to the party you hosted last saturday.

and i had a panic attack in your bathroom;

all my childhood friends were there and i didn't know any of them.

i can't recognize faces and everyone dyed their hair multicolored,

i felt like a camera with the film torn out

that eventually faded to black and white.

you said
"i'd love to keep talking,

but you're making me sad-
just reading this crap,
it's so fucking depressing."

you watched me leave and no one said goodbye;

the sirens had gathered themselves in front of the church 

so i tried to find a new home,
but i've only ever known one.