I Feel So Worthless Without Your Gaze On Me Stare, Glare, Bore Your Eyes Straight Through Leave Nothing

I’d tell you everything if only you’d ask.

Here it is->

(Not my photo)

Letter #31

I wanted to tell myself that it's all part of the process, but now, I know this isn't what healing feels like.

Date Written: 18th of October, 2023

Honest to whatever gods may be out there waiting on me, I love being the big spoon. I love wrapping myself around you as you chirp and sigh in your sleep, an enchanting orchestra of early morning comforts sung from the careful ridges of your spine. I love when you curl into my side in search of safety from the world, assured with no doubts that nothing bad can ever reach you beneath my loving gaze. I love the gentle kisses you'll place down my cheek to my neck as I bring you breakfast in bed and wake you up slowly to the quiet melodies of your favourite song. A private exhibition of love, learnt how to play on my old beat up guitar just for you. And though the duct tape on its sides warps the sound and there is a slight pressure placed on my heartbeat as I vulnerably share such an armature rendition - when you tell me you have never felt more loved, I decide to make a habit of my foolery for as long as these breaths shall last.

Date Written: 17th of November, 2023

Letter #15

I still think about you some days - Most days. It's been hard not to when the home you made for yourself in my heart was left to ache without any remedy or closure to sooth it. I wonder what you're doing now days, and who you're doing it with. The thought doesn't fuel jealousy through my veins so much as it does a sense of melancholic acceptance, as I know no matter where you found yourself, it wasn't somewhere I belonged. I hope you're going well, that your same bad jokes and unjustified confidence still annoy yet endear you into the lives of everyone you meet. Getting over you has been hard, impossible maybe, I'm unsure. Years in and my journey still isn't over. But, I know I'm glad that you left. Maybe I didn't accept it at the time, but this space has been healthy. You were a good chapter of my life, a fanciful page I needed to turn to feel satisfied by the storyline ahead. The fan favourite, re-read lovingly on special nights where the comfort of slipping into something safe is needed. I still think about you some days, most days, but it's less than I used to and I'm proud of myself for that. I'd like to think if we ever met one another again, it'd be in passing with awkward small talk and half-hearted goodbyes as our only exchanges - because as much as I cherish you still dearly, some things belong in the past as memories. Perfectly and sweetly, with love.

Date Written: 25th of August, 2023

Stitched holes in my black boots with fishing line Laced in memories of the hotel room we danced in The night you told me this city wasn't yours anymore Yet I would forever be your favourite home Tattered clothing held together by rows of safety pins Keeping the places you touched in tact a little longer So afraid of the day there's one wash too many And the scent of your shampoo leaves for good Duct tape over every seam of my messenger bag Desperate to hold together our long and messy history Carrying the last stray hairs of yours that held on Rested by crumpled receipts from times we'd share Laminated covers over every message you send me Collectors items, reluctantly aware I now have them all Nothing left but to sort them into colour-coded folders You always kept your desk space so well organized Maybe if I add enough paperclips this love wont fly away Just one more day, week, month, year - eternity One last second spent in the moments between us Before you end up in another beginning, someone else's arms Stationary drawers and laundry hampers can't solve this Our chapter was far too short to end where it did We still have strings I need to haphazardly mend And staples for you to punch through my heart With this final paper plane, addressed from me to you Promise I understand not everything gets to last You've grown too much to remain nostalgic any longer Though, I wonder if the sky can ever contain what you're after If we got another chance to do it all over, start from fresh Tell me, how different could our picture book possibly be? Time after time, I swear to you I would be content As long as on each page, remained versions of you and me I would've stuck to you like glue, unwavering, you know? Taping stories together, convincing myself of grand delusion While I wanted to wait for you, it burned when you didn't stay The truth is, we both deserve better than "someday" ... "You and me, someday."

Date Written: 23rd of November, 2023

Letter #12

"You deserve better." Cowardness trickling through each word A lie is laced in fickle venom An attempt at some redemption As if you weren't deflecting Off a heart you didn't desire "You deserve better." It did not hurt me because it's untrue It did not hurt me because I wanted you It was accepting what had been left to die When you just couldn't think up an excuse That would make for a better goodbye "You deserve better." How hard did you try to make yourself believe it? Would it have been that hard to admit? I thought with me you'd show your real colour But the choices were grey Turning simple and duller "You deserve better." Did you expect me to shed a tear? Yes, maybe it's true My forwardness might cast a shadow But at least I know how to be more honest Than this a lie on which you insist

Date Written: 13th of August, 2023

Letter #23

On Spring's first morning

I lied down,

Let my feet touch the grass,

Released a year's long breath

And starred straight into the sun

Because if my body will not cry on it's own

Then I will have the light guide me to it

Every tingle of wholeness finally meeting

All combining into one unifying chorus,

"This is the end and beginning of my life"

Nothing else that ever was or will be,

No lover's touch, no teachable moment

Only this, this is it. I made it home at last

Date Written: 16th September 2023

Red wine.

Bitter red wine.

Traces on lips, perhaps intoxicing lipstick

Dry but soothes the throat

I bloat from a cup

And undress the tender booze

A buzz kicks and i daydream numb

I crumble up the soft voice

Telling me be gentle this time

I smoke a cigarette and i let my friend talk.

I won't be cruel i say

As i drink another sip from a brassy cup

The throat is wet

And speaks less

And mind wants to tear up the silence

A crime scene where blood is in a bottle

Soon in our throat

I bloat again, but this time from a bottle

Hopefully i will kiss you and your unraveled secrets

Just because you are my friend

You need a lever and a helping hand

As i look at you, you seem like walking away.

But your Cognac turns your eyes back to mine.

Don't sweat it, don't sway it.

Just speak up and let's talk it out

Our broken parts.

Our bitter cracks

With a taste own Cognac and red wine

We hit each other with darts, our broken parts.

Let us listen and drink couple more past nine.

By Marko Tivanovac

We walk around the city as you reach out to grab my hand, I let you and in an attempt to hide from the rain, We wind up back at your place. Burrowed deep beneath the bedsheets, Both aware this wont last, But placated to keep ourselves here a little longer In exchange for the warmth that lies in another's heartbeat. Sweet passing conversations, thoughts of looking forward To learning the details of each other's hairlines, If only in a future that wasn't destined to realize with someone else. Never quite you and never fully me, I quietly think to myself. The stormy season hasn't ended just yet and for now, The touch of your lips is still an ever present sensation. So we lend ourselves to the shielded walls of early 2000s romcoms And the belief that either of us will ever be enough. At least until the sun is ready to come into our lives again, At least until we can tell ourselves the truth.

Date Written: 8th of November, 2023

Letter #5

The sharpness traces Gentle and cold Pressure brings warmth, a gasp Purely pleasurable relief Muscles forced into stiffening All while melting to belief "Red is the colour of passion" I tell myself as it trickles down my side Where engravings sing of promises Living life, finally feeling satisfied Guilty yet remorseless "What petal has yet to fall?" So sickly sweet, but is no treat Just a sucker left to crawl

Date Written: 7th of August, 2023