angry hot fire

Fire. Angry hot fire. It burns inside me so brightly it would impress every arsonist and then some. Fire so hot it melts the very skin on my bones. I feel it in my chest, in my veins, in my skull. It’s craving. It’s longing. It’s rage. I can’t switch off. It makes me restless. My thoughts run faster than I can keep up. I want to touch. I want to be close. I want to feel and hold and memorize every inch. And I know it’s reckless, I know it’s dangerous, I know it scorches everything around it. But I can’t stop. I let it run. I let it consume me. I live inside it, inhale it, exhale it, carry it everywhere. It drives me to want people I shouldn’t, to fixate on things I can’t have, to burn through calm like it’s paper. It’s me. It’s fire. And there’s no extinguisher that will ever reach it. I still wonder why I cling to people. Why I still think of people, people that can't and won't do anything to fix whatever it is that is wrong with who I am.

constant

I can’t stop thinking about them. I know I shouldn’t. They hate me. They talk badly about me. They don’t want me around. Doesn’t matter. I check their social media. I check again. I notice everything. I notice nothing. It’s a loop. It never stops. I try to do other things. I fail. I think about them while doing nothing. I think about them while reading. I think about them in bed. I think about them in the shower. Can’t shut it off. Can’t make it go away. It’s stupid. It’s embarrassing. It’s constant. I want nothing from them. Not a text, not an apology, not a look. I just want the thought to leave. It doesn’t. It won’t. I replay small things. Tiny interactions. Nothing important. Nothing that should matter. Matter anyway. I hate it. I hate myself for thinking it. I hate how persistent it is. I can’t escape it. It’s everywhere. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. It’s dumb. I’m dumb. I stare at their pictures. I notice patterns. I notice changes. I make up meaning. I make up stories. I don’t need to. I do anyway. It’s consuming. It’s relentless. It’s me. It’s them. It’s everything. Nothing. Loop. Again. Again. Again. I am not rational. I am not calm. I am not okay. I am not going to fix it. Not today. Not ever. I just live with it. I just let it run. I just scroll and think and hate and want and can’t and won’t. End of story. Or not. Whatever.

i hope you dont find it weird

 i hope you dont find it weird but i enjoyed brushing my leg along yours. driving my knee into the tough flesh of your own. it felt like electric had shocked my entire body with just one small touch