when you feel your clothes fresh out of the oven
OKAY SO I REALIZED I USED OVEN INSTEAD OF DISHWASHER BUT I KINDA FORGOT WHAT IT WAS CALLED AND USED THE NEXT BEST GUESS I COULD THINK OF
It’s called a washing machine
i think its a dryer like who would be feeling wet ass clothes
this post is a fucking train wreck
I only left because I got so tired of: bending over backwards for someone who couldn’t even stand up straight on his own. digging my hands into my back and pulling my spinal cord out, one vertebrae at a time. watching as you replaced your backbone with mine. watching as you entwined us so closely that I couldn’t tell my flesh apart from yours.
I cried the first time we had sex because you were so gentle and I had never felt that kind of love before. I didn’t know what to do with it. You pulled away immediately and left. You didn’t know what to do with my tears.
I apologized the first time you fucked me because it was so different from love and so far from hate that I didn’t know what to do with myself. You didn’t say a word and rolled on your side, facing away from me. You didn’t know what to do with those words.
I didn’t speak the first time you hit me because I thought I deserved it. I was wrong. But you thought I was right and my silence earned me another slap, another broken rib, another kick to the shins. I learned that no matter what I did, you would never be happy.
I never called because I couldn’t fathom the idea of: hearing your voice broken and bruised claiming to love me despite the past in which you left me bruised and bleeding. walking away a second time when the first was enough to break me in half. begging you to stop begging me to come back. hearing her voice on the other end of the line, her ragged breathing, her in-the-middle-of-sex-with-you whine for you to “come back to bed”.
I’ve always thought a lot of the stars and their roles in our fates.
Yesterday I bought a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. I lit twelve cigarettes and watched them burn to ash. I drank the full bottle but pretended you drank half. There is still a stain on my carpet from the bottle of pinot noir you threw, aiming at my head but missing by a few centimeters. There are still holes in my coach from all the cigarettes you smoked and put out on the wool, pretending not hear my annoyance.
You were a virgo but you loved like a sagittarius and held on like a taurus. You never believed that the stars could tell us our fates. You thought it was ignorant to assume light so ancient and so far away cared about our existence.
Greek mythology was never your strong suit.
Eros loved Psyche. He hid himself from her because he wanted her love to be true. But she was scared and thought he was a monster hiding in the shadows, and when she saw his face he left forever. That’s how I felt fucking you.
Hades loved Persephone. He built her a world inside of his own. But you cannot make homes out of other people. Each Spring she left him, and only returned out of obligation. That’s how I felt loving you.
Orpheus loved Eurydice. He traveled to the underworld to bring her back from the dead. But before she walked into the light he looked back to make sure she was there and lost her forever. That’s how I felt walking away from you.
You always kept me quiet during sex so that the world could only hear your moans of pleasure, as if you were jerking off in the bathroom, as if you didn’t have a girlfriend. I took this as offense, as the idea that you were ashamed of my pleasure, of my existence in your life. But it wasn’t out of shame, it was foreshadowing. It was practice. It was so I would know to be quiet when you hit me too.
This is not a proper apology because our love changed too slowly for us to ever understand how one minute you were kissing my eyelids and the next you were cracking my ribs. You see, if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will jump right out. But if you put a frog in a pot of water and gradually turn up the temperature until it boils, it will die. Our early love was blinding to what our future held.
I left because I didn’t want to die.