novr-deactivated20190712
“I wish I could have stayed in your life, but I was too much and not enough at the same time.”
— I hope you’re upset though. // p.s (via purosungki)
““I think I’m afraid of being happy because whenever I get too happy something bad always happens.””
— Charles M. Schulz (via naturaekos)
Source: naturaekos
“I am figuring out which parts of my personality are mine and which ones I created to please you.”
— Lora Mathis, The Dust On This Poem Could Choke You (via larmoyante)
“I don’t think people understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on in your head when you don’t even understand it yourself.”
— Sara Quin
i try to be thankful. i tell myself that. force a smile and grateful words that sour my insides. my stomach churns with words i’ve locked behind tight lips and sunken eyes. dark circles from lack of sleep. just tired. just tired. not hopeless, just tired. maybe, i think, i should be more thankful, and that’s my fault. i would be thankful if i could just dissolve into nothing, but tears don’t work that way. they don’t erode your body the way water erodes rock. or maybe the tears do, you just don’t see it. they remove pieces of you slowly. day by day. until you’re nothing more than a shell. i am not thankful for myself, i want to be better than this. but i can’t move forward; not when i’m enslaved to my past.
i remember on days like this that this world doesn’t play by the rules drill into my skull in school. this world is not based on fairness. just because you deserve a break, does not mean you will get one.
-happy thanksgiving? b.k.
Tell them
Tell them that I was naive
That I’m young, incapable of feeling anything
That I knew what was happening, before you ever did
Tell them that I was intimacy craved
That I had repeatedly asked for cautiousness from you
That you had more than a few notches in your belt
Tell them that I wasn’t physically enough
That you couldn’t handle reality
Tell your momma I’m bisexual, that her ignorant views disgust me
Tell them love is not limited
Tell them that I was told to shush to have a good relationship
And how you asked me to move in when I was lost
Tell them that you lied to open the only thing I had left
That no one had been able to touch
Please tell them
That your lies created a way out, that the truth was too much
“I loved you when I first told you”
Was the punchline of the night
Tell them you left me and made me drive home in the rain
How you molded me into a dramatic cliché
And I’ll tell them how I loved you
I’ll tell them you had flaws
I’ll tell them how you’re gonna get hurt and think of me
I’ll tell them of what almost happened
How many mistakes there were
I’ll tell them about my cat and how he lost his fight
Three hours after I lost you
I’ll tell them how I fought for air
And how I slept for almost a week
Tell them I supported your dreams while you crushed mine
I’ll tell them you took my purpose
Tell them your story
I’ll tell them mine
“You must be getting tired of all the acting, right? It must hurt you, annoy you, not being able to hold my gaze longer than a heartbeat. Are you scared of what you’ll see in my eyes if you look close enough? The sadness, the disappointment, the opportunities you wasted? Are you afraid of running into me one day just to realise I’m already miles ahead of you? That I already moved on and you couldn’t? I don’t know why we’re not talking. I don’t know why you can’t tell me what you want when I’ve told you about a million times. If you only made an effort, I’d welcome you back with open arms, in less than a second. And yet. And yet. You are hesitating. You don’t want to admit to the fact that you miss me like hell. Here it is: I miss you too. It’s not that hard. Tell me that days pass in a blur and you wake up in the morning, not knowing why you should even get out of bed. Tell me that your home feels empty without my laughter ricocheting from the walls. Tell me that it meant something to you, that you hurt leaving me, even though you never showed me. Even though your face was blank and your hands were cold and your lips were blue when you sent me away. Even though you never even said goodbye. Tell me I wasn’t a waste of time for you.”
— open letter #1 / n.j.