I fall in love with every pair of eyes that dares to reflect mine

if you teach responsibility to a child by getting them a pet
chances are that your child might try and swallow it

my father's house, the place i grew up in, is falling apart

the wallpaper is peeling off from the moisture
revealing the written marks on the corner leading to the hallway

there's a line, then a year, then my name that i no longer use
above it, there's my brother's name who over the years grew past me
the names keep going higher and higher up, but no higher than i am right now
near the ceiling, there will be my father's name
if he ever does what he has threatened

the backyard is still filled with the toys i used to play with
but they are all lost within the tall grass

the living room still has our family photos
but the shelves are covered in a layer of dust
and the photographs have turned brown by the edges
burning off the memories

the kitchen table has no room for dinner
empty bottles, a pile of unpaid bills, a pile of used tobaccos
birthday cards made by two young twins have been gathered by the window for a man to look at, so he can pretend his children still care

i do not

my old bedroom is covered in feces
my old stuffed animals are torn apart
my old drawings are hidden behind cob webs
my old bed is still unmade from the day i left and it shall stay that way

all my childhood memories are gone from this place
all that is left is the dust in my lungs

if i am made out of clay
and i can mold myself in any shape i want
then why am i still so unlovable

I disappear into the person l love. I am the permeable membrane.

If l love you, you can have it all. My money, my time, my body, my dog, my dog's money.

I will assume your debts and project upon you all sorts of nifty qualities you've never actually cultivated in yourself.

I will give you all this and more until l am so exhausted and depleted the only way l can recover is by becoming infatuated with someone else.

- Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love