daphne gray
Bio
just a girl in this world who thinks a lot and writes a lot and some of it makes sense and some of it doesn't. enjoy nevertheless.
Stories (34/0)
Competition
I have known Competition since birth. We were like siblings in the womb. Friends, situated by each other in the newborn nursery. She’s a pebble (a rock), in my shoe, and I have no choice but to carry her with me where I go. I swear I’ve tried to shake her off. I’ve tried to ignore her every time she starts talking, and I do pretty good at it, but it doesn’t stop her. Sometimes I think the more I ignore her, the louder she gets. Which is so annoying, cause she’s mean! She’s mean and so self-centered and she doesn’t even know me like that. She thinks she does but she’s far too caught up in an imaginary world. She’s invented this alternate reality and expects me to live in it with her. And everyone else too for that matter. When I make plans with someone else, she gets crazy jealous. She yells at me and makes me stay in with her. She makes me cry and she makes me wallow. She shoots me down so she can then remind me she’s the only one who can bring me back up. She hits me and she hurts me but she’s so nice when she’s done. She tells me I’m her everything and she’s all I need. She’s not that far from right. I haven’t learned to live without her yet. I say—I think, I’m working on it, but she and I both know she’s not going anywhere. She's embedded in me. A parasite in my brain, but really, we’re mutualistic. I think that I don’t mind her, but I don’t think that that’s true. It's whatever though, I can't complain all that much, not when I’ve benefitted from our friendship the way that I have. Sure, she blindsides me often, but if I get tunnel vision, wouldn’t that actually be good for me? She may tell me to hurt myself but she knows it's relief I'll find in it. I don’t like it when she makes me cry but I’d be emotionally congested otherwise. Who am I kidding though, I am emotionally congested as is. She cleans my sinuses a smidge. I don’t want her but I can't live without her. She’s the only one who knows me and that’s how it's always gonna be. Others can compete with Competition but she knows what to do to win.
By daphne gray11 months ago in Poets
the dream
I want to live in a world where I can do. A world where I think of something, and my body follows. Where my body and brain are one, where I can trust what I say because when I trust why I say, all works out. Where I don’t need to stress and freak and cry because instead I’ll be too busy getting it done. From the mindless task of getting in bed to the harsher obstacles in life, I’ll be doing something and that’s better than doing nothing.
By daphne gray11 months ago in Poets
Peace
This is my second cigarette. I’ve had this balcony for four years and this is the first time I've actually been out here. It’s fitting I chose to bring nothing but this cigarette and the lighter I’ve had no use for but for candles for the last two years. It’s funny Target won’t let you buy a lighter if you’re not 21.
By daphne gray11 months ago in Poets
very lovely morning
You sit, pretty, on my twin bed, lofted somewhere halfway between my ceilings and my pale blue rug. I didn’t pick it out myself; my roommate and I had chosen another one, but it was unavailable, so she went with this one. We'd split it, initially, but she’s moving and doesn’t need it. I took it. I’m glad you’re here, but I also hate it. You know I like to be alone, but I like to be with you and I don’t like you being with someone else. I’m not jealous but I totally am. You call me pretty but there are so many pretty girls. So many pretty girls notice you. You said once you didn’t mind if I never gave you peace, but everybody thinks that until the moment comes. Abandonment is the blink of an eye and a knife that’s been twisting in your chest but you hadn’t noticed cus your eyes were closed! Sorry, this isn’t about me. Your pretty, pretty, hair looks so pretty, golden underneath the morning sun seeping ever so slightly through my window curtains. It’s supposed to be sunny today and I’m so glad I don’t have work because you want to take me out. You said it’s on you. I want to cry being around you. You hold me so tight but you still don’t squeeze me. I keep waiting for you to squeeze me and I’m so unprepared, I don’t know what I’ll do if you do. “If”, I’m not sure when I stopped thinking “when”. I want to crawl back to you and let you do just that. Sometimes I wonder what I’d need to do for that to happen, and if I’d do it. Sometimes I consider it. I could get this over with for us, take this moment and print it, hang it on the wall, and put it in a box the next year. Except, I can’t imagine no you.
By daphne gray12 months ago in Poets
Love
I will peel your oranges and finish your pizza crust. You put your ice cubes in my cup, doing us both a favor. You trust me if (when) I go 90 on the highway and you don’t mind the music being really loud. You think it’s funny how much attention I pay to songs and their tunes and that I know all the lyrics and how I’m so passionate about them and that you let me sing them at you and to you. You let me tell you, in detail, why and how my current favorite show is stressing me out. You ask me to braid your hair and I ask to paint your nails. I buy you your favorite candy and you feed me some while we watch TV. My head is on your lap and your hands are in my hair. My heart is in my throat because I’m scared that you will leave. You saw through me before I painted myself opaque.
By daphne gray12 months ago in Poets
May 12th, 2023
You texted me last night, so much, but I was too high for any of it. And so busy. I was with someone. You said you needed me; it wasn’t anything serious even, it was silly. You needed me so you could open a message from someone else? So that I could tell you what to say.
By daphne gray12 months ago in Poets
17:27
She thinks it’s funny how nervous I get around her. She says its “cute”. I tell her I don’t know why, but it feels like an obvious reason. I know I like her; I don’t know why I would admit that to her — not the crush that I have, but that she flusters me. It doesn’t matter anyway; I blush harder near her and can’t quite look her in the eyes the way I do everyone else.
By daphne gray12 months ago in Poets
blazing star
Monarchs flutter from the blazing star. I want to join them. I picture them orange and blue and red- often green and pink, if I’m looking up at my wall. Or yellow and brown when I’m typing on my Mac. Multi-colored and bright and beautiful should they fly through my dreams, envisioning them in threes, fitting the numbers on my arm.
By daphne gray12 months ago in Poets