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More from 27 Times by Karsen Daily

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i thought about you again 1 day after you said we should just be friends i thought about the shiver that causes your jaw to clench when i talk about our bodies on the freeway i thought about you while i facetimed with other men the way your eyes lock with mine the way i want to kiss you all the time (i’m so fucking pissed) i thought about a world where you and i co exist i felt nostalgic for memories we never made the way you kneeled to the bottom shelf at the smoothie shop and ran your knuckles up the outside of my leg all the your way up friendship bracelets were not really strangers laying on the couch with your face in my neck falling off the bed wishing we would never end. but did we ever even start? or was it in my head

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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I literally hate pencils, and I don't remember the last time I used one, but I'm so sad/scared to write this that a pen feels too permanent. Clearly forgot I could erase. Is that a metaphor? Life feels unimaginable right now. I don't know when or how I became so unhappy. You've done so much to support me and show your love for me; thank you for everything. Our life together is so much to unpack. It already feels like an entire lifetime and it's just been a fraction of both of our stories. We can't be together anymore, Chris. It's fucking devastating. I can't imagine anything more horrible to say or feel. I will always love you and be here for you. I hope someday we can be a part of each other's lives. We've been so much together. I can't imagine any of those moments without you and I wouldn't change anything because if it's not now, we would've still ended up here. I want so much for you. I don't know if you'll have these things if we are together. I will always love you. I know there's a world where we can both release painful memories. I'll meet you there. For Better or Worse, Karsen + Pearl

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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He calls me a ‘tapestry’ The newest exhibit in his gallery Independently curated; a fractured replica of the real me Fabric by fabric he weft the worst of me Covering the warp the best of me Enveloped by a vision of a more perfect me Unlike the pieces of art you loved before me admired in perpetuity Jagged edges and incomplete patterns too expensive to authenticate discarded material lay in waste Unraveling each thread, rushing to tuck away every loose end blinded by abstraction Even further now than where we could’ve been hoarding a collection of arguments we’ll never mend Create me, display me I’m a tapestry As long as you do so artfully

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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penetrative paradoxes relinquished in the rapture diluted by desire resentment rolls off the tongue with familiar dexterity affectionate affliction romance in purgatory love, addiction, is masochism penetrative paradoxes grip my hips kneeling on your knees while water falls around us and soaks the tub the way i soaked the sheets with your face buried in me you beg; “your body” is passion always this inauspicious? worship me until you suck your teeth at the thought of us plagued by antipathy, unveiled penetrative paradoxes like assumptions and accusations bound with conviction like leather restraints around my wrists and when this collapses just promise we’ll fall freely like the way we did in love and in bed and when words ignite your lips like you’re breathing fire just promise it’ll burn as hot as your kiss on my neck penetrative paradoxes dismantling distinctions between love and lust like pushing my hair behind my ear before you seize my skull

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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Blind trust Hips thrust Wasted space Fuck this sucks Living in the upside down Love is in my head while my head is in the clouds Emptier than a cave My dreams have never been this loud Screaming from the stands Hesitate when you kiss me The way the waves crash into the sand Show and tell Bring your shadows and i'll bring mine

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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As free as I feel, I’m a bit sad. I have an inexplicable hold around my spirit. I have Stockholm Syndrome from myself. I'm scared that I’ll always feel this small, but I'm more scared of the probability of being as big as I could be – as big as I want to be. I'm sitting on a roof surrounded by greenery, wilderness, life... The world is so big in California. Could I ever be more than a few inches tall here? I've learned to grow only in my cage as I know it. When the door opens, I look at it and feel like I can fly. But then the world I see looks back at me and I forget... I just forget who ever it was I wanted to be. Discernment: It’s an impossible practice if I can't even be free from judgement against myself. Who the fuck cares about me, if not me? Why are you sad? Do you even know? Why are you yelling at yourself at this very moment? Be sweet. Be gentle. With yourself. Like you are with him. Could you die never knowing what you were capable of? Or could you live to become the person you were destined to be, even if it kills you? How does the sun feel? How does love feel? Still so many questions need answering. Why would anyone put salt in their latte? To be that, you have to learn that. Since when are you the teacher? Write down what you're afraid of: being forgotten being fake being forgotten being real birds masks discernment him Anything else? Get it out before it gets you. If you can feel it, it's real. No need to explain any further.

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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how do you describe your muse: by vice or by virtue maximalists mourning sanity you me theory or truth: every goddess is as hauntingly cruel composed confessions confuse a diptych from a dm be it proclamations or public displays of affection whatever it was was finely honed to perfection contemporary clio but with a lack of direction designed to be desired if only charmed by sight young, joyful, and free except when desisted from dancing down cobblestone streets tragic now bodies move to lyrics inspired by me the crown of ivy died as I doused my melpomene mask a veil of silence and desolate distance doomed now our exodus, what was once in bloom extrapolating intimacy suspended by assumption star crossed or stars conflated: all in the image of the muse most hated

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily

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Where would I be without You What would life be like if it were missing You If I was without the one that hurt me the most without abandonment or Pain Would life be easier if I could go just one day without feeling betrayed Where would I be without the Man I see four times a year Well, I wouldn't be here If it weren't for that Man If it weren't for my Dad

27 Times by Karsen Daily

27 Times by Karsen Daily