amorosi-deactivated20220605
I never craved peace like I do now. I don’t wanna wake up bothered, angry, bitter, no negative energy or thoughts. I just want to be happy and at peace with everything
I can't write because I want to write about you. This is building altars in rotting woods and calling dead gods to bless what has never been good. This is collapsing each cartilage in my ribs so I can fit inside the memory of you underneath me. This is the swallowed ocean water and the cold hands in the morning and the way you tilt your head before saying something witty.
This is just cultivating a garden of wounds and tending to them fiercely. This is just living in your wake & drowning. This is taking out each of my teeth and saying - ah finally. time for a feast.
This is just the quiet & rabid destruction of me. no matter what I do. Nothing about that is poetry.
“Sometimes, closure arrives years later. Long after you stopped searching for it. You’re just sitting there, laughing this laugh that is unapologetically yours. As it trails off, the corners of your mouth hug your face and it hits you, ‘I’m happy’. It’s just like that. With no fanfare or epiphany. Suddenly, you are grateful for goodbyes that carried you to this moment; to the space you are now holding.”
—
“Every time this date that would’ve been our anniversary passes by, I wonder what we would’ve been doing. I wonder how much more we would’ve loved each other by this day, how much more we would’ve learned about each other by this day, how much more we would’ve gone through and done together. But this repeating date is just another normal, meaningless number to you.”
— Excerpt from a book I’ll never write