Author: Jess

if you opened your door tomorrow,
to find me on your doorstep
would you shake me to wake me up
or would you gently rub my shoulder?
would you move me out of the way
or just step over me?

if you opened your door tomorrow,
and my world was black and gray
would you find some colored pencils
or would you yell “fuck off” and slam the door?
would you tell me why i broke up with you
or would you let me feel like you broke up with me?
would you move me out of the way
or just step on me?

if you opened your door tomorrow,
would you look down to see where you were stepping
or would you pretend not to notice me?

i wanted to do so much for you
and for us, but im a failure.
i wanted to learn a song for you
to bring you back, make it all right
you don’t really listen
you don’t really listen
i say it anyway:
i miss you, i love you.

i’m just rambling.
and this is one more sleepless night.

one more sleepless night
one more sleepless night
one more sleepless night
i wanted to call you
but what the fuck?
would you pick up the phone.

they say it gets better with time
but i was angry at him
for causing the damage
that made me like this with you.
i don’t know what that is.
i don’t know who i am.
i don’t know if i should believe you.

my god, you have such ugly words.
i never knew.
but i swear, i thought i knew you

i speak to you in truth
and truth is a double-edged sword
that’s what they told me in church
we were all just sinners there
we’re all so empty here
and i don’t know what to say anymore
your eyes want a meaning,
but i don’t mean it that way
the pen-and-paper sketch books will be my home
my home away from you.

i don’t want to be away from you
anymore

i heard somewhere that if something is worth fighting for
i should fight
and i don’t know if i’m worth fighting for
i’ve been told for so long that i’m not worth anything
i’m just a broken girl
that’s breaking down even more
and no one notices, no one notices
i’m not worth fighting for
i’m not worth the fight
i’m giving up, going down, dying

because hemingway was right
we should fight the good fight
but life is about what is and not about what should be
everyone wanted me dead or gone
and now i am and no one says a word
just send the invitations now
you wouldn’t fight for me
it’s like i gave you the mustard gas
to kill of pieces of yourself
i’m sorry

you’re not the only victim here.

we’re all growing up broken-hearted
but we make it okay, get along just fine
and i read this weekend that someone should be trying to save us
instead they tell us its not that bad
and we’ll be okay
tell us to grow up: these are the best times of our lives
maybe that’s why i consider dying all too often.
but whos to say what is too often on the grand scale of things
i know not when i’ll die
only that i am done living.

i’m sorry you can’t fix it.
i’m sorry i’m like a problem
or a prescription without you around
i’m sorry that the only thing i did was drag you down
maybe i could fuck around with him
behind her back: because you were special
and she is special-er (so i won’t)
but you’d know you’re not the only one
and you weren’t the only one
(and he wasn’t either but can i bring those words to my lips?
can i erase these lies from my face?)

maybe i’m just sad today
i don’t know what to tell you
when you aren’t here, you aren’t here, you aren’t here
and secretly i hope you live forever
so that i don’t have to confront all of those girls after me
while the dead body that i don’t recognize looks up at me
and i know why she hated me
(when i think about it i hate me too)
maybe i’m just sad today because it’s april, and i’d be with him
a year ago if it weren’t for you
or maybe i think i’ve made a mistake
i should’ve kept lying
unreal and happier that way.

you were a figment of my imagination
without a personality, i wrote you how i wanted you
and i should’ve killed you with my pen’s words
but i didn’t and you go on
we all leave the theater
feeling downcast at the end of the movie
and we’re all growing up broken-hearted

subtle, or not so
subtly i take your hand
pull you down and away with me
you feel like silk
you feel like fire
but i’m not burning
not quite yet
and your eyes they seem to tear through me
like you know all of the cells from exlovers
that were torn from their back
and cleaned later from my fingernails
don’t worry, darling there’s room for yours there too

my clothes peel away
like the skin of an orange
and you dive in to my pulpy center
piece by piece so sweetly
but my juices sting your lips
and the scratches on your hand
(from where you dug your fingernails
on the nights when you couldn’t have me)
i’m humming some tune,
thinking in my head that if you ask me
“goddamnit its not rap its hiphop”

after my writhing is complete i collapse on top of you
while my heart condition acts up
and my eyes close softly
your kiss crashes onto my lips like a wave
breaking away my coast line until my los angeles sinks
we have no negative consequences
and i kiss you again
more passionately
and you let yourself become me
once again and i become you
and we trade
as we roll, roll, roll, roll, roll

when i fall asleep at night,
i’ll only think of you.

i used to talk of oceans
?????????and now i see white rooms
i used to feel warm, sunbaked sand
?????????now just cold, hard wood floors
i used to remember what boys felt like
?????????now i don’t even remember you.

i’m not saying its a bad thing
its just a new expanding sensation
to get used to.

i never want to get used to you

if i weren’t here you’d be face down
on the ground or on a bed
i don’t remember the surface only the motion
but it didn’t feel cold there
and you were wearing that same goddamned gray shirt
you’ve got in on today
i want you out of my mind,
i want you out of my mind.
but i told you about it
(and left out the details)
i told you it was weird, i told you i didn’t understand it.
you just laughed a little
shrugged my hand from your wrist

she reads me like an open book
that is a book that tears her apart
she doesn’t understand that my feelings
can’t be shut out by the dark
and even with the lights on i see her face
in the closets of a french room
and her ceiling in the binding of a book.
i know her colors so well
but i float (face down)
and she’s so determined to drown me.

i just wanted to tell you
????that you are like a waterfall
????????and when the rain falls hard
??i fill up in you
???but when the earth gets dry
?i’ll try to bring you back with tears
?the salt from my eyes can flood over me
????if you won’t.