blankslate:

you have lots of names
but none more than “defeated”

for every time i shook off your weak grip
to prove mine strong

it was another “fuck you”, was another

“i deserve health”

now tell me what you see,
my laughing
my crying

it’s the same thing- victory

it is me tugging at my hair
but never tearing it out

it is me wrecking your shit
and telling you so as i do it

it is you, defeated again

i woke up to the rain.
the constant sound echoed in my head as i awoke to darkness. for a minute i thought i was dead, and what i heard was the sound of the blood rushing from my body.

the low rumble of thunder assured me that i was still alive.

i rolled over onto my back and groaned. It was one thing to relax inside during an afternoon rainstorm. It was a different matter entirely to wake up at three in the morning to a monsoon when you had to get up for work at seven. 
after staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, i kicked off the covers and reluctantly got out of bed.
celia was still sound asleep, the lucky bitch. she really could sleep through just about anything. I tried to move silently in the room as i pulled on sweatpants and a shirt that hadn’t been washed in god knows how long.

the living room was darker than i anticipated; it took a few minutes of stumbling blindly and my knee colliding with the corner of the end table for me to finally find the couch. i sank into the worn suede cushions and fumbled in between the cushions for the remote (i always hid it there, despite celia complaining that it’d get crushed if i kept putting it there). 
the dull flickering of the tv was an old friend, especially on nights like this. sure, the programs were shit; nothing but infomercials and reruns of sitcoms from the 80s that everybody’s seen at least three different times on every other channel. but i didn’t listen to the programs. i’d mute the tv, get out a cigarette, and smoke it with my head back and my feet on the coffee table, watching the light from the screen dance across the ceiling. tonight was no exception. i exhaled and closed my eyes.

“griff?”

i opened my eyes and lazily rolled my head towards the doorway.
celia was leaning against the doorframe, still waking up from the look of it. her short hair was a tangled mess, and the shirt i’d let her borrow was obviously two sizes too big for her. she yawned. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, i know, i woke up ‘cause of the storm.” i placed my cigarette in the ashtray on the table. “i didn’t wake you up, did i?”

“no, i couldn’t sleep; had that dream again.”

“oh, babe. come here.”

celia shuffled over to the couch and sat down, curling up against my side. i wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“those nightmares are getting more frequent, huh?”
“yeah.”
“…maybe you should see someone about them. i mean, you’ve been having them for almost a month now…”
she looked up at me with stern eyes. “you know i hate doctors. besides, they’re just dreams. they’ll go away.”
“i hope so.”

celia eyes the cigarette in the ashtray. “you said you were going to quit.”
“i will, soon. just not yet.” i picked up the cigarette and relit it, taking a long hit before adding, “we all need our vices.” 
she plucked the cigarette from my lips and took a hit; she grimaced and hacked as she exhaled before handing it back. “i just can’t see how you enjoy that.”
“most people can’t.” i took one last hit before snuffing the cigarette and tossing it back into the ashtray.

we sat in silence for a while.

“hey griff?”

“hm?”

“what’s my vice?”

i paused and looked down at celia. she was looking up at me, her hair still a mess and just about hiding her light blue eyes (i used to joke and call her “cornflower” because of the color of her eyes; she’d just punch me in the arm till i stopped). she always had a way of looking beautiful no matter the situation. 
i took a deep breath and looked back at the tv screen.

“i’d say me.”

she was silent for a moment. “you’re so full of yourself.”

“maybe. but you know it’s true.”

we didn’t say anything the rest of the morning. we just sat there, curled up together in between quilts and yellow suede, watching dull tv and listening to the rain cascade.

i haven’t smoked a cigarette since that morning. 

after the horror that was last night, today was much better.
i woke up at noon and made chocolate chip waffles. got on tumblr and saw where a girl who follows me (who i met cause she worked with my dad one day oddly enough) said i was her tumblr crush. i laid about and watched american dad for a few hours. got up and unpacked the last few things from school as well as reorganized my bathroom. ate dinner and then watched a few episodes of supernatural with my folks. 

i wanna curl up and watch episodes of adventure time with someone now. i guess my body pillow will have to do.

tomorrow i think i’m going to start working on a few paintings i’ve been meaning to get done.  

i forgot how beautiful the voices of sara bareilles and ingrid michaelson and florence welch are. 

also i have wonderful friends who cheer me up when i get upset. thanks to onesimplepoet and science-sexual for the messages last night; you both are lovely friends and lovelier people and i love you both (also you guys should follow these two they’re pretty fantastic people). 

now time to go make some tea.