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she stood like a ghost against the blacklight of 3am

blood dripping from her mouth and nose

wearing shoes too big and too high to walk in

and she was trying too damn hard

she was trying too damn hard

the aesthetic she was aiming for was too dirty

and the blood was fake and everyone knew it

life is not a soft grunge tumblr blog

and everyone knew it but her

but she liked the way the blood looked on her skin

she loved the black and white bands

she wanted to have tears in her tights

and she wanted someone to see her

but no one is awake at 3am

a letter to lloyd (the last one i promise)

dear lloyd,



i saw you got your mission call. congrats. i hope you'll forgive me for not being as excited as i should be. it's just that i don't want you to go. and i know that sounds weird considering you moved out of the state for school and that the last time you saw me was on graduation day. but even though you've been gone, you've still been writing. i don't feel like you've left because you're still in paris too.

but missions take you a long way from paris. and missionaries aren't allowed to keep up a blog i suppose. so this is the last i will hear of lloyd. and that breaks my heart.

so since lloyd will die at the entrance of the mtc. and since you probably will never see me again, i've decided to make you a list of what i've been dying to tell you for the past three years.



1. i've had the biggest crush on you ever since you stepped into mrs. wrights class in 2011.

2. i would purposefully go out of my way to find you at dances so i could dance behind you to make your dates mad and to hopefully get your attention.

3. you're hair looks fine either long or short, but when your rattail got cut off i was so relieved because honestly it looked really bad.

4. one time in human geography i got to sit next to you and i honestly could not pay attention to the lesson because i was so nervous being around you.

5. i'm also really sorry i texted you pretending to be mrs. wrights daughter, it was the only way i had the courage to text you and it was a really bitchy thing to do.

6. you have no idea how elated i was when you forgave me for doing that and then coming down the next day to the open mic in provo to hang out with me.

7. your writing is so honest and real and it makes me feel and think things that are new to me. your perspective on life is so refreshing to me and your blog will always be one of my favorites.

8. you are honestly one of the smartest and introspective people i've ever met. i would just wait to see you raise your hand in class because i always knew i was going to learn something new every time you spoke.

9. and you are one of the sweetest guys i've ever met because i read what you were writing to mrs. wrights daughter. you were so sincere and so kind and you put your heart out on your sleeve with no hesitation.


so yeah, thats it. i just needed you to know that someone has cared about you all these years. that someone saw you for who you really were. that someone admired the person you hid for so many years from afar. so i guess this is goodbye. a goodbye to someone that i never had the courage to say hello to.

goodbye lloyd. thank you for everything.



love,

charles darnell

oct. 30 @ 7

we sat in the cafe and we drank from the cups and the sweetness made us cringe and his mind wasn't there.

it was with the girl who was blonde and pretty and it was in the theater where he would take her on their next date.

it wasn't in the cafe with me.

i was in the cafe looking at him and wondering what his hair felt like running between my fingers.

i was hanging on every word he had to say about her and i was telling him to hold her hand when the lights went down.

i was hardly breathing because the stabbing pain in my chest was about to kill me but he was smiling and laughing so the pain was worth while.

i was in the cafe wondering why i was letting myself get hurt again after the last time and the time before that.

and the only answer i found was in the way he shyly looked at me after he said her name.

in his eyes i saw hope of love.

even if it wasn't for me.

none of it was for me.

and i didn't deserve it anyway.

because love like that is special.

it's for pretty blonde girls who make boys flustered and nervous.

it's for girls who don't kiss on the first date.

it's for girls who make the men beg on their knees for her hand.

it's not for the girls who are damaged and make boys scared.

it's not for the girls who say yes to boys in hopes of them remembering their names the next morning.

its not for the girls who beg for a hand to lift them when they can't stand up anymore.

it's not for girls who would glady give love advice to the men who can never love them back.

it's not for girls like me.

the cold moon

the house is cold

and the snow falls

and i can feel my soul cave in on itself

the doctor calls is seasonal affective disorder

that i don't get enough sunlight

and that's why i feel so empty

but it's not the sun

and i'm not empty

its just that the moon is with me longer

and she makes me feel everything

and my soul can only feel so much

at one time

that's why i can't function in the winter

she fills me up so much

that i can't lift my head against the weight

and my heart can't pump properly

with the entire universe crammed inside it

hell, it's a miracle that i'm breathing

but i don't mind

i'm just grateful that i'm feeling

because for so many years i was numb

and the moon tried to shine into me

but the bruises were too dark for light to pass through

so now i bask in her glow

and listen to everything she has to say

because i want to hear it all

i want to feel everything i can possibly feel in a lifetime

and if that means the snow should fall

let it storm

and if the house will be cold

let it freeze

draft 5

i've been meaning to write for a while now.

there are 4 drafts that weren't good enough. 4 letters to never be read because the person they're addressed to isn't ready to see the blood spilt on the page. and maybe it's a bit cliché to write in blood, but you took all the ink and left me with the quill.

what was i supposed to do?

you even took some of my blood. when we kissed the other night you bruised my lip. were you as lonely as i was? did you want to feel someone else bleed for once? because i don't blame you. if i was stronger i would've done the same thing.

do you stay awake till all hours wondering what your love is doing? do you ever miss holding them in the dark? do you ever miss the rush of blood to their cheeks when you told them how beautiful they were? i do. i miss everything about you. i miss you when we're in the same room. i miss you when your holding me against your breast. i miss you when your mouth is against mine because the person i once knew behind those lips is gone.

his heart shattered and bled dry. i know because i tried to put it back together once, but he told me not to. so i had to stop. because even though i was trying to put him back together the slivers were cutting deep and tearing me apart. but i didn't mind the pain.

i'm a masochist.

i'm willing to take on your pain at night, even if it means you won't tell me you love me in the morning. i'm nailing myself to your cross because i don't want you to scar. and the wine from your bottle spills onto my open wounds and i smile at the searing pain. you burn me with your cigarette bud and i gape in awe at the burn.

i gape in awe at the burn.

and i write in my own blood to tell you that i have loved every second of pain that you have given me.

and i write to tell you that i wouldn't have changed a thing.

so the next time you feel pain please call me and bring the lash, because i'd rather you hurt me than you hurt yourself.


love,

charles darnell

home

long nails almost black hair beauty mark on the right cheek red swollen lips blue/grey bedroom eyes small nose pale eyebrows three dry patches broken vein tramp stamp hidden cheek bones stretch marks petite ballerina feet incredibly small hands long legs 38 inch bust mole on ring finger freckled shoulders rosy cheeks curved spine 3 stomach rolls one scar above the left knee

constellations

the vines crawled down her thighs
and the stars made constellations upon the vast galaxy of her skin
and the black obsidian water flowed down her spine
into the small of her back where his hand rested

he looked at her and saw the universe in its fullness

he understood how the two atoms collided
he understood why God created such a space

it happened just so that she could inhabit it

all of this was for her pleasure

and he was just there to point out the stars on her skin
he was there to tend the vines in her garden
he was there to swim in the dark river of her hair
he was there to show her the beauty of her universe

because she could not see it herself

although this universe was created for her
she was blind to the beauty that inhabited it

those who are beautiful cannot see what lies before them
but those who can see the beauty within themselves can see the beauty in others

so those who can see must guide the beautiful hands to the sky
and help them feel the constellations they cannot see