— Buddy Wakefield (via dawniekitty)
— Buddy Wakefield (via living-in-this-tube)
— Buddy Wakefield (via cactusnamedgonzo)
for how long it took me to let things go.
It was not my intention to make such a
production of the emptiness between us
playing tuba on the tombstone of a soprano
to try and keep some dead singer’s perspective alive.
It’s just that I coulda swore you had sung me a love song back there
and that you meant it
but I guess sometimes people just chew with their mouth open
so I ate ear plugs alive with my throat
hoping they’d get lodged deep enough inside the empty spots
that I wouldn’t have to hear you leaving"
— Buddy Wakefield | “Hurling Crowbirds At Mockingbars” (via irememberyourpresence)
Listen, I know there were days you wanted to die
when the sky was so clear
you’d stand obnoxious underneath it
begging for stars to shoot you
just so you could feel at home.
I know about the ways you misplaced all the right words,
stockpiled every important social cue you ever missed
from the first time you learned you were wrong,
waited to make it right
once everyone stopped watching.
I know you let them beat up your beauty in bed
because redemption was still alive in you, howling relentless, gathering strength.
Felt like ecstasy when they pounded it out of you in the hard dark.
Those days of dead weather
got all strung together
and they spoke for you,
wore you down to telling everyone here it was a good life
so you could run back into the wails of your windfight.
I know the parts of your past that haunt you the most
are the days you weren’t being yourself,
and I know that’s why most of your past haunts you.
There were so many who found you out,
and they were right.
You were good.
— Buddy Wakefield, “Healing Hermann Hesse” (via cloudyskiesandcatharsis)
for how long it took me to let things go."
And I mean it.
I stayed. I stayed. I stayed.
If there’s anything I’ve come to understand
it’s that I left my body to tell you these things
and did not lock the door behind me.
— from “Self-Portrait,” by Buddy Wakefield (via gapsbetweenstories)
and repeat after me with your heart:
‘I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.’
Make love to me
like you know I am better
than the worst thing I ever did."
— Buddy Wakefield, “We Were Emergencies” (via larmoyante)
I thought touching you would be painless.
hypothesis: somewhere, there are suns that group into prayer circles and sing our names. somewhere, there are places to be without letting go of home. there are kisses without touching and touching without naked and naked without speaking. somewhere, somehow, there is a body much like yours, valleys that bend and rise much like yours, toes that sink into sand and soil much like yours, speaking words much like yours. somewhere there are boys in wooden sandals and prisons with no bars, and somewhere there are people who wait for us to catch up, always waiting for us to catch up.
experiment: mix green apple vodka into your sleep tonight. dream of loving yourself. dream of building a throne out of every bone that has wronged yours. dip yourself into saltwater, listen to yourself prune. be nothing but silent, let silent be nothing but you. name the blades of grass. name them Caitlyn and Azra and Colleen and Annalise. name them Venus and Mars and Mercury. be your own inhospitable planet. leave room in your bed for no one. let them earn it. leave room on your skin for no one. let them earn it. go. run. run.
conclusion: this is everywhere we will ever be. this heart is where the home is. this heart is where the house is, with cracked shingles and rusty hinges and a kitchen that smells of dough always. this is where our parents made us. this is where our parents thought of us first, this is where they saw the idea of a shared result in each other’s eyes, in each other’s hems and necklines and sudden bareness. this place is brilliant, baby. this is not a science, this cannot be measured or calculated or poured into beakers. this is the air between fingers, this is stretch marks and lovin’ it. this is castle all to yourself, this is chasing things that are not there and fucking lovin’ it."