THANK

YOU

FOR

SHARINGA ZINE BY LILA BURGER

REVERIE

the sound of the subway screaming just reminds me of our fights the way the sun goes down each day like dimming your bedroom lights the view outside my window is a brick building and that's it it reminds me of the reddish hue of the blood leaking out of my wrists

the smell of sweat reminds me of our sweet midsummer naps the nausea I feel when I look at old pictures makes me want to relapse the rush that I feel the first line of the night is not quite as good as your lips and the space in between me and the comforter is not quite as good as your hips

REMINDERS

I cleaned my room the other day for the first time since you left and I kept on finding little pieces of you little pieces I let you forget

I cleaned my room the other day and I found all the feelings you lost I sat there and laughed as I asked myself how one boy left so many socks

I cleaned my room the other day and found your bedroom eyes hiding beneath all the nights without sleep in the space left between you and I

I cleaned my room the other day for the first time since you left and I swear I heard your voice in the wrinkles of my sheets your breathing inside of my chest

you cleaned your room the other day for the first time since you left and I know you found pieces, pieces of me pieces you knew I'd forget

you cleaned your room the other day and found little things that you missed you sat there and laughed as you asked yourself how one girl had brought you such bliss

you cleaned your room the other day and found the old poem I wrote hiding beneath all the nights I slept over the nights I loved more than you know

you came home drunk the other night and lay on the side where I slept and you wished I was there, I just know that you did you wished that I'd come back to bed

DISCOVERY

my public speaking professor is a Boston native so naturally, she tells tales of how the city used to be she told us that way before we were born in fact, before any of us were even a thought in our parent’s minds there was the red line a few decades ago, it needed some repair work done but the city’s government decided that it was more important to repair the streets and sidewalks so they fixed the roads and left the underground folks to the dogs

and I couldn’t help but think how the red line relates to me I had a great start in kindergarten, I was dreaming of Harvard in 5th grade, I was dreaming of Juilliard a star in the classroom and a star on the stage I was the perfect baby girl my parents had wanted the unproblematic libra who would save them from my two bad-tempered taurus brothers I was ok for a long time the little subway that could, I guess

there were scattered storms along the way sometimes it would close for maintenance there were lots of little obstacles lots of fractures in the rails but it worked and so did I

THE RED LINE

and then I met you and everything I saw became a sonnet or

a painting everything I touched turned to gold

I felt like you gave me a key to the world

we collided like galaxies exchanging meteors and comets and text

messages and t shirts we borrowed parts of each other's

patchwork hearts to put it simply, I was blissfully falling

in love with a boy who had no business trying to catch me

so I fixed up the streets I repaired the whole surface I worked on seeming happier

less needy prettier softer

but when I fixed up my outside I neglected the foundations of my city I ignored the sporadic breakdowns I forgot that there were people who needed me I forgot that my thoughts and feelings needed a way to get to work sooner or later I started to get tired I started to notice how quickly people come and go getting off at their respective stops and although you made me so happy that I started skipping to class instead of skipping class and humming love songs on trains instead of wanting to lie down in front of them I couldn’t take off the rose-colored glasses you gave me when we met and you lost yours somewhere along the way

and then the storm of ’97 came and I kept going I really tried to stay strong but when you got off a few stops too early it was too much and I broke

so in came the maintenance crews— extra reinforcements they called all the backup and sent in the troops it took weeks— but finally, after days and days of crying and vomiting and crying some more after days and days without leaving my bed all of a sudden all at once I got up I brushed off the cobwebs, took a brush to my knotted locks, and I remembered how freedom felt how it looked— how it tasted

I remembered how to open my eyes once I had rubbed off all the crust I remembered how to speak without hearing cracks in my voice I remembered how to listen to my own heartbeat without cursing my brain for continuing to pump blood to seemingly empty ventricles and sure, the lights sometimes flicker on the red line sometimes it slows down and sometimes it breaks but it's still there it's still there and for the most part it works and for the most part

SO DO I

WHAT’S THERE LEFT TO DO AFTER YOU BUT LIGHT MY OWN CIGARETTE AND SMOKE MYSELF TO DEATH

cursing at locked doorknobs standing quite still in a corridor, forbidden, filling the space between the ceiling and the floor filling the space between you and I bathrobe hanging off my bruised, boney shoulders damp epidermis I want to hide; a cadaver in the midst of it all another package needing heavy protection valuable-- yet dangerous trap doors refusing to open right in front of you meet me at 7 o clock under the comets halfway between your elbow and your wrists don't stop now nose in the air; attentive noticing the symphonies in your sigh-like yawning in and out never mind I'll show you practice sleeping in my arms it's never too dark with empty elbows and knobby knees overlapping; askew  under sheets; shivering footsteps on linoleum a train station bathroom that no one seems to clean pale and green sick clinging onto death for dear life

CLINGY

if I should do to another what he would do to me I'd rip his body in two fleshy pieces and rip his heart in three

if I should love another the way he would love me I'd let him fall as hard as he could then leave with the winter breeze

if we should do to each other what they would do to us let's laugh and let's cry and let's conquer together then leave when times get tough

if we should love each other the way they would love us let's pretend that love always lasts and break when it never does

THE GOLDEN RULE

IRRATIONAL FEARS

Type to enter text

“RATIONAL” FEARS

-whales -the ocean -never finding love -confrontation -babies -meat (especially weird meats) -fish (both the living ones and the food type) -zombie apocalypse -whales (again) -bikes -cars -standing in front of the microwave while it's on

-being kidnapped -being attacked -sleeping alone -walking alone at night -never finding love -failing -getting really depressed -people thinking I'm weak -being weak -being a parent -dying -getting cheated on -letting people in -people seeing my scars -losing at beer pong -whales

GHOSTi. I wake up each morning to the sound of a winter's breeze pushing against my window hissing your name through the cracks in the glass and when I try to ignore it it only gets louder I wish I could fall back asleep but I know that I can't without your hand on my waist and your warm breath on the nape of my neck I ache in places I never even knew were there

ii. once I find my way blindly out of bed breaking the bindings of my lackadaisical hibernation I pour coffee down my bruised and bludgeoned gullet and then don't eat for the rest of the day instead, I let the coffee stain my every taste bud for coffee reminds me of your good morning kisses and your bad morning kisses when you had to bring me breakfast in bed because I couldn't get up

iii. I go to class and I take notes while I doodle little broken hearts yet none of the words strewn across the pages in in my color-coded notebooks-- none of those words are as important as what I learned from you none of those words are meaningful anymore I miss studying you like the overpriced textbooks in the required reading section of my syllabi all I want to know is what you do now  now that I'm not around

iv. I go to parties and try desperately to find anyone or any drug that makes me feel even a tenth as happy as you did I sit down on a couch and you're there in my head making remarks so much cleverer than the boy sitting next to me telling me about his major and blandly rambling on about "this crazy weather we've been having" I hate how bad it hurts to be now that you're gone it's been pretty long so can you please stop following me around like this pretty pretty please

v. I go to sleep as much as I can these days but I can't tell which is easier staying awake  or dreaming (and nightmaring) because every accidental mention of something we once did together paralyzes me with momentary bliss I love telling our stories almost as much as I loved living them but then I remember that you're gone just a harsh shadow in my dorm room just an echo in my cerebral cortex

but dreams might just be worst because in my dreams I get you back every single time which makes sleeping the happiest I'll ever be back in your phantom limbs back in your illusive phantom heart

vi. God, how many ways can I say the words "I miss you" before you care? I haven't texted you in a week  but you're the first person I want to text when I wake and the last person I want to say goodnight to and every text I receive I wish I hope I believe it'll be you but it won't

vii. you’re always around but then again you never are

I never ever planned for what we had to go this far

I love you like the moon loves the waves love the coast

for someone who's still living, you make a pretty good ghost

LAUNDRY ROOM LAMENT

a year ago you found me here just hanging from a wire you took me home and placed my body right beside the fire you ripped off layers of skin like pulling bark off of a tree you made me laugh and cry so hard I had no space to breathe

you put me through the washer once you saw I wasn't pure you drowned me in detergent-- fabric softener galore you even took the time to pick the thorns off of my stem you even took my pink flesh to the tailor to get hemmed

I know that all my memories show us happier than we were but I know I made you happier than you ever were with her I never even cared that you didn't say I love you too I only ever really cared that we made our bed for two

you rung me out and hung me up to dry all by myself my soapy skin just barely clinging on without my help I used to be your favorite shirt, the prize of your collection now I'm just wrinkled and covered in blood, praying for redemption

RECOVERY

jesus christ what a feeling half-conscious and reeling but then again I'm still healing alone in the dark

god I want to kiss him but I need to keep my distance cause he might not be so different from the boy who broke my heart

I guess he loves this side of me the side that he's allowed to see the side that always makes me seem pretty and soft and aloof

I hate when all of these feelings arise I stare at the floor instead of his eyes I couldn't get sick of his laugh if I tried I'm just sick with the love bug, AH-CHOO!

SICK

I USED YOUR LOVE LETTERS

TO GIVE MYSELF A THOUSAND LITTLE PAPER CUTS

KEEP

COMING

BACK