Author: lila

Late Nights In January

can I let you in on a secret? I laid in his bed and I thought of another.

Letting him go was a hit of fresh air.

I laid in his bed and brought our lips together in a sloppy attempt to not look at him

I looked at all my failed romances and took it upon myself to write screenplay

but love is not a car

You cannot go to a junkyard and expect to walk out with the qualities he is lacking

You cannot take a boy and make him a puppet for your bad adaptation of Shakespeare

The pieces never fit and he never laughed at my jokes

I didn’t feel a thing when he touched me and the drive home always felt like an eternity

I keep trying to spit out love poems like I used to. Back when all my love poems sounded like regurgitated cliche movies.

I don’t see the sunset in boys eyes anymore.

The older I get, the more complicated love gets.

Like, I’m suppose to love them but not more than myself; however I don’t know how to measure my love yet.

You’re never suppose to lose who you are but being with someone who introduces you to change is a good thing.

The rules seem ironic, i can’t wrap my head around it.

love is about more than feelings yet I always need to be validated.

I guess I’m just no good at it.

the impossible

I’m trying to remember what the physical aspect of us felt like

I’m trying to remember where I saw you for the very first time, was it a church or an insurance company behind you?

Was it whiplash or traffic?

I’m trying to place us, did I imagine it?

was there really magic or did my mind exaggerate?

It wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.

I can’t remember the details.

Ain’t that bullshit? I let you tear me apart and I don’t even know why.

My head tells me I loved you but what did I love? The memories are jaded, your touch isn’t a shadow anymore, there’s no ghost. I did the impossible, I forgot you.

Note to self #2:

Recovery is not about happiness. That’s tough to swallow. When you’re depressed or in the middle of a depressive episode all you beg for is a crumb of happiness like if you just get a taste you swear you can get your shit together. But that’s not recovery, that’s not getting better, that’s not realistic. It is about the small victories. I got out of bed. I got out of bed and did not think about dying. I had lunch. I had lunch and didn’t feel terrible about it. I had a two minute conversation and got through it. I had a conversation and did not count the seconds, I heard them. I thought about him and almost cried. I thought about him but then my lunch break ended. I keep my mind occupied, far too occupied to remember I have ridiculous reasons to be sad over. The medication keeps me at bay. Sometimes I take more than I am suppose to, I get that from my dad. If my dad is three years sober maybe that’s proof I’ll be okay. I will be okay. I have time to get my shit together. God, please, just don’t waste it. Please don’t fall back into the hole. I know you have to live with the depression, a freeloading asshole but you are in charge.

love isn’t any easier as adults

i cant take another hit

you look so pretty in the moonlight, you look so pretty under the city lights, so pretty i want to lie and promise you everything

I’ll stop hiding behind jokes, here, lets talk politics, how are you liking the weather?

 Let’s do grown up things, have you filed your taxes? What percent tip do you leave at restaurants?


I’ll keep writing your name over and over till I’m contempt with the name my mother gave me

It may not be the healthiest thing but you still are my happiness

I’ve learned praying for happiness is redundant

I’ve learned the things that make me happy are not to be shoved in the closet like my sexuality

So I will wear your name, I will shower in your voice, I’ll dream of you, I’ll wake up and smile because at some point you wanted me.

You are proof love isn’t light years away

You are proof happiness isn’t constant, much like any relationship, it has lows, happiness changes, happiness looks good in denim, most of all happiness is not a promise so devour it.

The day will come when you won’t be my happiness, I look forward to it.

Till then I will see you in my dreams.

If you stay


if you stay I promise I will learn to love without losing myself in the process

I promise I can be my own person

I swear I can be her again, fifteen, with a strong belief in people and kindness

I swear I can see life as something beautiful

I will put away the drugs, I’ll put away the self deprecating girl who thinks bitterness is strength

I will put away the facade that this sarcasm is a weapon

I can write poems about bedroom eyes and sunsets

I will write poems in the horizon

I will write stanzas in the stars

All I ask is that you stick around, even if it is just for the night.

Off my chest

I convinced myself if you loved my body you could love the rest of me. I convinced myself having your touch was better than nothing at all. You ruined me. If I have to carry the weight of being nothing more than this lace bra then I get to blame you. Being with you only taught me I’m only as good as how hard I get you. God, don’t you see how fucked up that is?

Writing this now, I feel so pathetic. Look at what I deemed love, look at what I fell in love with. I spent so many weeks with your name stuck in my throat. I spent so many weeks trying to forget the feeling of your breath on my neck. I get to spiral, I get to write about the way loving you got me nowhere. Loving the wrong person leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

I miss you, I miss your stupid jokes.

I miss the plans we had, I miss your lips and the way you called me dork.

I was yours from the very first interaction. Loving you was the easiest thing I ever had to do, it was instinctively, it was irrational. Some days loosing my pride is worth asking you to come back. I am allowing myself to miss you. I spent weeks swallowing you. It got me nowhere.

The first week you left I cried in the shower until my chest hurt. I sat by my phone praying to a god you don’t believe in. I played your songs over and over, I drowned my ears in your favorite bands, desperate to have any part of you. I never understood craving a person. I never understood the physical pain of loneliness. Waiting for a person has to be one of the most draining things you can do.

I was nothing more than convenient. please, do not try to make me look any more foolish. i gave you every inch my of body, my sense of being, can you please just leave me with my pride? I blamed my lack of self respect on your inability to love me. When the truth is every month we spent together was the closest you ever got to experiencing love in its purest form. baby, the word no did not exist, tell me what did I ever deny you? You had me on my knees, had me at you beck and call.

Public transportation

tonight I got on the bus and that’s all it was

a means to get somewhere, not to run away

you are not all over LA, there is no need to look over my shoulder

I’m sure the paranoia is still there just hidden under all the medication

but you are finally a just a boy, you are finally a stranger

my god, I did a glamorous thing building you up

Look at the way I made you my city

Look at the way I made your body home

Look at the way I turned your existence into an exhibit


Believe me

believe me when I say there is no way to make “I do not love you” sound poetic

you cannot tip toe around it

You cannot sugarcoat it

he does not love me

he does not love me and I can taste it

I can still taste him

I convinced myself half of him, the lower half of him, was better than nothing at all

I convinced myself his touch could make up for his lack of affection

don’t get me wrong, this is not a “how dare you do this to me? how dare you treat me like this?” Because I know very well I asked for it, I know very well my hands trailed your chest.

This is a “why does love like that exist? How can love change overnight?” Because it did. Because it was in fact love. He used to say I lived in his head and all his dreams were about me.