always run back

The million dollar question(s): How exactly did Kakashi react when he found Sakumo dead on the floor? Did he sit there in shock? Did he go get help? 

When did he finally let himself cry? Who let this child stay in the Hatake manor after Sakumo’s suicide?

So, serious talk.

How is anyone supposed to both have a full time job and be a solo 1d fan?

Like… how?

How?

anonymous asked:

Hello Gabi I've gotten my mum hooked on One Direction. I've told her all about Harry and Louis. She's got an open mind, she is sure that "babygate" is not true, because I've told her all about missing bumps etc.. but she also is not sold about HL's relationship either, she thinks it sounds too fairy-taley and that their team is making them play both sides, to please everyone and maximize sales. How I can convince her? maybe you have a tag with irrefutable Larry proofs? (no receipts) thank you!

Hi love! This will be long, like essay-long. I’ll divide it into 3 parts:

1) Harry and Louis’ friendship: The HL part can be only understood if she understands how much damage has been done with their images, and how in normal circumstances NO ONE would do that unless they want to punish them. And why these 2? I mean, why subsequently these 2 all the time? Because what did they do? They were 16 and 18 only, 

  • then think about WHEN the changes started to happen (clue: when they were about to break the American market) and 
  • then WHAT happened (iron closet, no interaction, only ONE (1) 1 on 1 interview, separate group interviews, 
  • then got bearded up sometimes even multiple times. (These relationships were always used for promo) 
  • but then just take a look at how fond they become when they look at each other, how they obviously don’t hate each other, so why is their team not showing that? That hey look they were not okay after the gay rumors started but here they are? And they are friends. LOOK. But no, they just didn’t do that. They kept them separate. 
  • Look at their body language as it closes off when something slips, how everyone looks on the side that shit this is gonna be something we have to pay for, or how openly they all got SCARED SHITLESS that they fucked something up. Seriously, if your mom doesn’t see it on HL, then okay (even though it’s clear), but look at the OTHER THREE boys. Why are they scared shitless when H or L says things like WHEN WE’RE HOME or when Louis said YOU TRIED BABY and so many other things. This is when your mom has to do her thing and look up things because it’s impossible to put it all in one post. 
  • Look at  WHAT they actually do/say/did, their BODY LANGUAGE, how they SHADED BEARDS and how they refused to hold hands, kept distance, kept space for 3 Jesuses between them etc while they both are very tactile people but never as tactile as with each other. The narrative that was PUBLIC for god’s sake that GAY RUMORS DESTROYED their friendship, they were BEST FRIENDS, they LIVED TOGETHER, even if Louis was the messiest, and suddenly it turns all shit and it’s all out for the fucking PUBLIC that they HATE EACH OTHER?? Why is this even out? Don’t forget the shit that’s written about Louis. If you ever read anything about PR teams is that they HIDE all the shit, they pay every single staff member to keep their mouth shut, they give extra concert tickets etc, sign NDA’s with them. Like..when they did the Steal My Girl video they signed an NDA with every single DANCER!!! And they were just dancers??! Now imagine a gay couple, an in-band couple. 
  • LARRY NARRATIVE VS REALITY

First of all, in what world intra-band animosity is ADVERTISED by their team instead of HIDDEN under seven locks. While 1D was a thing the Zayn-Harry animosity was always covered up. Now pretty much all of the members talk about it openly, and your mom can ask why. 

“When something was going wrong, I’d get a phone call. If there was an APOLOGY needed, it was me. I was the spokesperson for the band, as it were, with the press and the label” (LIAM PAYNE 2017).

“The same way that Harry’s getting to war belly button trousers - he didn’t do that in One Direction because there wasn’t the sense of FREEDOM to do so.” Liam Payne 2017

They were told what to say, what to do, what to WEAR even. Do you think a gay relationship is allowed and advertised?

  • Look at the presence of the PAPS when they’re bearding.
  • and how this INDUSTRY works, jesus just how many stories we already had about people forced to hide their sexuality for the sake of sales and for keeping the crunchy dollars from the parents of their young fans
  • how they SHADED their teams for years, how Louis refused to shake Griffith’s hand, how they hated their teams, 
  • how it’s all out there in every single twitch of their eye that they HATE their teams, and HATE what their teams did to them. 
  • Why is that? What could they do to them? 
  • Look how UNCOMFORTABLE they look next to Simon while surprise surprise the narrative is that they LOOOOOOVE Uncle Simon and they’re sooo grateful he put them together as a band. 

You can ask yourself why.

Why is it a love story when it comes to Simon who’s their boss but it’s a fucking train wreck when it comes to HL’s images. 

It’s a HUGE PUZZLE to put together and it’s not even about being open minded, because one gif or just knowing they have at least SIX known complementary tattoos is ENOUGH to understand it.

Your mom maybe rolls her eyes by now, that yeah yeah maybe, but it’s 2017 and they aren’t out, 1D is over etc etc. She thinks it’s too fariy-taily? Has she seen the lyrics written by these two? The constant presence of running, of being locked, of closed doors and the recurring theme of dark-and light and the feeling that they CAN’T LOVE who they want because they keep getting obstacles on their way. Why does this line exist in SOTT: Why are we always fucking running from the bullets.

What bullets??? WHY?? They’re rich as fuck, they have access to anything and everything. Why is Louis talking about HEADLINES THAT I CAN’T STAND. Why is no one’s interest to PROTECT them? To make SHIT disappear and swept under the rug instead of PUT OUT THERE IN PUBLIC? Read this ask by @lawyerlarrie. It’s a fundamental ask because i agree with it. https://tellmethisisnotlove.tumblr.com/post/141609282114/can-you-share-your-thoughts-pleaseWhy is everything so fucking SHADY all the time?

This ask cannot and won’t cover the seven year long image- destruction they have been doing for Harry and Louis.

Then analyse their images one by one. 

2) Harry narrative: the womanizer image has been pushed so deeply that it’s now ingrained in people’s heads that every time he so much as stands next to a woman they assume they’re dating. That’s the perception. Then look at how hard Harry fought against it. It’s very very sad to see, first he literally teared up, then as time went by and he got bigger and bigger in 1D and became THE Harry Styles he sort of had more leeway because on one hand their team built this monster that is Harry Styles ™ but on the other hand that gave Harry a thicker skin and he could do more and no one could say a thing because he’s Harry Styles. Do you get my point? Throughout the years he played down every single woman interaction with him, like when he was touched he politely stepped away and the interviewer’s hand dropped, he started to make sarcastic comments on women crushes and the worst and quite recurring questions. He didn’t “hear” the crush questions, when he was provoked and painted in the corner to talk about women sexually he complimented their personality or that they have beautiful kids etc.

He also started to very openly play up any interaction with men because 1) he naturally feels more comfortable in their company and 2) to put a very visible contrast between how he’s with women vs men.

So that’s Harry. In a nutshell, of course. Don’t forget that these are just words in an ask but if you do a google search look at how damaging every single article has been. It’s only clear what they’ve done if your mom reads every single one of them. I also cannot summarize 50 000 posts that prove me just as right, and I’m only putting here things that come to my mind first, without a deeper diggind on actual quotes and gifs etc.But they’re out there. HARRY AND MEN. vs HARRY AND WOMEN. Let her see this. Also: HARRY NARRATIVE VS REALITY. That too. And of course WOMANIZER HARRY

3) Louis narrative. One with one of the most layered personalities, who’s many things at once but not the irresponsible douchebag who’s going downhill fast and on top of that he’s NOT a homophobe. I’m skipping bg because it seems your mom’s convinced it’s not true, so let’s focus on his personality.

His narrative is a bit more complicated because in order to understand it your mom really needs to SEE what they’ve done to him.
How they silenced his natural flamboyance. How he cut back any interaction with Harry in public. How they did WWA like Two Ghosts. How the cheerful and bubbly boy turned into someone who grabbed his mic stand like a lifeline and started fidgeting and messing with his in-ear because he couldn’t do anything with his pent-up energy. Look up the tag IRON CLOSET to see how it changed all of a sudden. Also look up MEDIA TRAINING.

There are several live interviews or occurrences when Louis expresses his love for any kind of fan, regardless of their sexuality.  LOUIS NARRATIVE VS REALITY.  and LOUIS AND RAINBOWS

And I HAVE TO bring up the Just Like You lyric video because that’s a goldmine. TAG: JLY LYRIC VIDEO.

When it comes to his relationships (lol) analyze it the same way as Harry’. Louis is one of the bests when it comes to body language. LOUIS AND MEN and LOUIS AND GIRLS and BODY LANGUAUGE

This post is getting long so I’m asking myself what else did I miss? 

When it comes to Louis you cannot downplay Simon’s part.

I have 69 pages of posts for DOUBTERS, where the industry, HL’s personality, quotes, actions and examples are collected and it’s not only about Larry, but about any bulletpoint I put here in this post. https://tellmethisisnotlove.tumblr.com/tagged/for-doubters

I know I haven’t really talked about Larry. It’s POSSIBLE to prove that there is SOMETHING sketchy and we haven’t even mentioned Larry as an argument.

Maybe have your mom start with these masterposts: https://tellmethisisnotlove.tumblr.com/post/130802770384/when-you-cant-touch-enemies-friends-lovers

Just to get a glimpse.

Let your mom go through some of these, or through things she chooses to and then we can talk about Larry. Or she’ll understand there’s no need because everything up there helps her see that they indeed are real. x

They’re strong. Still in 2017. 

Irrefutable proof?

OUTINGS

EVERYONE KNOWS

– 

The person came back today and wanted to let me know this:

Popping in to bring you some Scarebeast and Riddler.

I like the idea of Scarebeast being a monster to everyone, but to Eddie he’s a total dear and it makes Eddie feel extra special. Look how smug Eddie looks.

He also likes bringing Scarebeast along to negotiations that don’t lean in his favor haha.

8

make me choose: anon asked - Rick Grimes or Shane Walsh  

Greed

Pairing; Park Jimin  x Reader

Words; 3.1k

Genre; Smut | Light angst

Summary;  ❝Love is blind, greed is insatiable❞

Aka; You’re Jimin’s side hoe and he’s too fucking greedy to choose between what he loves and his greed for money.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Why do we always run back to what broke us?

I think we all like to believe in second chances; in notions of timing; that nothing is ever impossible. That if only we did this or we did that, things would finally fall into place. We cling onto hope with no foundations. We reach for familiarity; because clinging to the cliff edge is better than falling into the abyss.

But some things are impossible. Some things just don’t work. Are toxic. Are wrong. Some people don’t bring out the best in you. Sometimes love becomes an excuse. Sometimes love becomes synonymous with fear of being alone. Sometimes love becomes nothing at all.

4

Ji Hyo starts the filming of Running Man (◠△◠✿)

Hi everyone, I hope it’s okay I put out a small message! I’m sorry I’ve been kind of inactive lately on both tumblr and other social media. I feel a bit guilty because people are always so kind to message me or comment on my work and I can’t as easily reply or comment back. But please know I’m not ignoring you, that I don’t take your words for granted. I’m extremely appreciative of every kind word I receive.

I feel also bad for being slower on content creating. I think work, art block and general just insecurities are hindering me, and the less I create/put out, the more I feel like I have to “make up” for my absence. I know this is my own strange thinking, and sorry I kind of ramble too much.

But ye, this is where I am with this blog, I apologise again for lack of good content lately, but I’m truly grateful and honored that people can still find joy in my older work and I want to thank you.

On a better note though! It’s a new year and I’ve grown a lot in 2017 as an artist! I met a lot of amazing people this past year as well! May 2018 bring everyone good things; you all deserve it.

How to Break a Heart || p.p

Summary: In which Peter craves to break yet another heart.

Words: 2727

Warnings: Peter being an a-hole, angst, a few swears, probably pretty shitty lmao

Comments: So this was written awhile back, but I thought it’d be interesting to write an AU of Peter being a fuckboi, lol. Enjoy!

********

Step One: Find a victim

He planned it perfectly.

Playing your feelings; smirks and stares shared between the two unlikely matches. Love filled eyes repaid by a wink and a smile that brought girls to their knees.

He was what every girl looked for: built body, soft brown eyes. A smile that lit up a room, hair tousled just the right way without trying. He had everyone under his control - his command, if he took advantage of it - always knowing when someone was ready.

When someone was ready to join his game.

He chose you long ago; shy girl with a big smile and doe eyes . You were a naïve, little girl. And everyone knows naïve, little girls always believed whatever you said.

He just didn’t know you were different.

You were his next playing piece, his next victim, and he knew exactly how to pull at your heart strings. He couldn’t just have you yet - no. He knew all too well that he could get you within a snap.

But, like a kid to their dinner, he liked playing with his food; and he’d mess with you till he knew you were wrapped around his finger. Till he knew there was no way you could turn him down.

It took a few months. Longer than usual, but he knew that he captured your attention, and he was ready to attack.

He was ready to start his game.

~~

You wanted to fall for his games.

All the words he whispered into your ear, all the kisses you thought were reserved only for you. All the I love yous he’d press into your ears and all the touches he’d leave to linger on your skin. The familiar tingles that ran up your arms every time his hands caressed yours.

You were miserably caught in his game; a loser who only ever wanted to win.

When he finally won you over; when he chose you out of all the girls that crossed his path. When he realized he was bored of his original toy, when he was hungry for a another playing piece, you were there.

You fell right into his trap; and you don’t know if you regret it or not.

Because, even if you knew what he does to girls and even if you knew he’d never love you. Even if you knew you were nothing more than a little path in his little game. Even if you knew all his lies.

You always came running back.

It wasn’t your fault you were meant to love the only person who didn’t know what the word even meant.

Because, to him, love was completely different. Some say he confused lust and love and decided to ignore all the signs that showed him what love really was; this was his game. He made up the rules and knew exactly what he was doing.

He just needed you to put it all together.

Step Two: Get them to fall for you

He was persistent, to say the least.

It started with the constant flirting; your ears filled with obnoxious boasting, his mint breath fanning your face a little too close to comfort. You were tired by the first day, everything he said was just bullshit in your ears. The constant names of babe, darling and love becoming repetitive - a routine.

But, somewhere along the line of the egotistical boasting and the laughing between class; the constant compliments and the toothy grin. Between everything, a friendship soon blossomed. It was unconventional and down right ridiculous, but you found yourself enjoying the brown-eyed boys’s company.

He became your best friend.

And it wasn’t long before he was more - more to you.

He could see it; in the way your eyes sparkled every time you saw him, eyes gleaming with something he’d seen all too well many times before. He knew you were falling, and he knew you were falling fast. Right into his arms.

Right into your demise.

~~

It was part of the fun, he thinks.

Seeing how long it took him to gain your trust, gain your friendship. He’s never taken this road before; testing new strategies to kill girl’s heart’s under his grip, and he thinks he likes this one the best.

You fell fast, with no hesitance, without stopping, you were falling hard and you were falling fast, not having a care in the world so long as you ended up in his arms. And he was there, standing, just waiting for you to fall right into the arms of your beloved best friend.

But he knew from the beginning he was never your friend; he wasn’t capable of being your friend.

I mean, what monster would befriend a meal?

Step three: Pull them into a false comfort

For this to work, he needed to love you.

It was an equation to him - hold her close, but not too close. Look into her eyes, but look away the split second she leans in. Love her, love her just enough for her to stay - and he knew exactly what he needed to do to make you fall into his trap, left to rot till he let you out again.

He planned every little touch, every little look, every goddamn word that left you hands reaching out to his – everything. He found it quite amusing as to what he could get out of you through a simple caress of his hand. He strung you around like a doll, throughly enjoying playing his little game with someone so willing.

But -

But at times, he felt something.

It wasn’t love - how was he supposed to know what it was when he couldn’t tell the difference between that and lust - love and hunger - when everything he did was driven by a love he never knew about. That he could never see.

But, when he saw the love blossom in your eyes, when he saw the smile the first time he said “I love you.” When he saw you trusting him, he felt something he thought he never would.

Guilt.

It was such a simple feeling, but he knew it would lead to his ultimate downfall - a painful loss in what was supposed to be his game - and he couldn’t let it show.

He couldn’t make himself weak when he was this far in the game.

~~

You didn’t know if you knew about what he was doing.

After so many years, you felt as if you knew you were just another toy - a plaything he always had around him, tearing it about piece by piece before all he had was this.

A tattered shell of a girl who was whole only a few months before. He was so good at pretending and acting and was just so good at what he did and what he was doing, you found yourself believing everything he said.

You thought you knew, you thought you were smarter.

But all you were was a girl in love with the wrong boy.

Step Four: Slowly start tearing them apart

He needed to take it slow.

Step by step, piece by piece, he needed to slowly tear you apart - drive you crazy. He’s done this a million times before, but he doesn’t think it’s been as easy as it was with you. He loved your willingness to correspond with his actions, to follow what he did and what he said and drink it all up like it was the truth.

He started tearing you apart, and he thinks he didn’t even have to do the first step - you already did it for him.

He’d come home later and later every single night and he knows it’s tearing you apart.

Because, you see, you made the first step so easy for him.

You cared for him; and that’s all he needed before this step went into full swing.

He’d come home, perfume in his wisp, but an apology on his lips, the words I love you, I promise it won’t happen again crossing over and over again in your mind. The questions you told yourself, no answers to go along with them. You slowly started questioning if you were good enough - good enough for Peter - a god in the eyes of a small, naïve little girl.

Your confidence was plummeting, but that didn’t stop you from from falling yourself, right into the arms of your beloved boyfriend - someone who was never there to begin with.

He was just a ghost in the eyes of a broken girl who was too blind to see the truth.

~~

He was so close.

He sees it - he sees it in how your eyes follow his when they linger too long on a girl across the room. He hears the desperation in your words when you tell him you love him - you love me too, right? - and he always answered yes, a smile on his pink lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

You believed him; of course you did. You were strung up in all the lies that you couldn’t see - stuck in an invisible maze where the only way to get out was cut your way out. You were miserably lost, but you were okay.

You were okay because you had Peter.

Even if he smelled of something different every night, and even if his eyes never filled with love when he saw you; even if you knew you were never enough for the king who was too high on his pedestal to reach - even if you knew, you knew you could never stop loving him.

It was possibly one of the biggest things you could’ve given him; your heart so willingly put on your sleeve even if Peter already tattered its insides - even if it’s hollow from everything he did.

He doesn’t feel bad anymore. Some would say he was so, so heartless to say so, but it wasn’t his fault.

It was yours for falling in love. It was yours for breaking yourself in the process.

It was yours for believing in him.

Step Five: Leave them wondering what went wrong

You should’ve seen it coming.

You should’ve seen all the signs, you should’ve bolted away from the heart that was so willingly given to you. Every touch, every word, every fucking lie he pressed into your lips.

You should’ve seen it coming - you should’ve been able to stop it.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you were blinded by the love you had for him. You were blinded by the words that you thought would fix this, by the hope of somewhere, somehow, having him love you back.

(You learned soon enough that monsters could never love what was already devoured).

Your little heart was all you had to scavenge, pouring all you had into a relationship you thought could last -

Into the boy you thought you loved.

But when you saw him, a girl dangled by his side, lips attached in the poison that brought tears to your eyes, you had no strength to hold onto what little you had. You let hope get the better of you, letting yourself believe with some sort of faith that your small voice calling out to him would bring him back to you.

“P-Peter?”

He didn’t seem to hear you or your heart shattering the floor.

He could pick what he heard; and he decided to leave your heartbreak for later.

Step Six: Leave their heart under the ground

You didn’t see him for weeks.

He didn’t seem to care for what you felt that night - his plan, his game finally ended, a sweet victory with another girl in his grasp - and he didn’t care if the sheets you once shared were stained with the tears of the girl he never loved.

He didn’t care as long as he won his game.

But he wasn’t finished; he had one more step, one more lie to break you down. He planned everything out, every word he would spit at you, the smirk he’d throw at the broken eyes of the girl with the broken soul.

He knew everything that was going to happen. He’s done it countless of times before and he knows it’ll be just as sweet with you.

He thought he had everything planned.

But just as always, he was wrong.

~~

“It’s okay, Peter.”

He didn’t expect those words to come out of your mouth.

Your lips held a sad smile, eyes shadowing red in the sight of the boy who broke your heart. You spent countless of hours on tears - ramblings of what you could’ve done better whispered to yourself through the screams of your heart, voice shouting out to the boy you once loved - you spent hours breaking yourself down to the point where you were left a mess.

You wanted to hate him with every fibre of your being.

But, no matter how much you wanted to hate him - to spit words like shards that would cut out his voice like knives - you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He didn’t deserve that victory.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your tears spilt onto his wrists. He wanted to do that - to break you.

You wouldn’t let him know how much you’re hurting.

So instead, your hands cupped his face, eyes bright as your lips are brought to his, one last peck for one last victory.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

He never thought victory could taste so bittersweet.

~~

He thought he won.

He thought he’d broke you down to nothing.

But when your lips met his, your eyes shadowing the love you once had for him - all the happiness he brought into your life with the simple presence of his smile - a pang in his chest set him back as he stood on your door step.

Guilt.

He hadn’t felt that for so long - not since your first kiss, not since he first said he loved you - but it came back to slap him in the face. It wasn’t guilt for you, no he felt something much worse for you.

He felt guilty for loving you.

He felt guilty for falling in love with someone who was supposed to mean nothing more than dust on the floor.

It came to haunt him on his walk to victory.

Even in the end, even if he won his little game - even if he strung you and broke you till you were nothing but dust on the floor, even if he succeeded in every step, he found his heart was exactly where yours was:

Beaten, broken; barely holding on under the soil that covered it.

He messed up. He messed up your life - his in the process and he didn’t even know it. Because, before all of this - before all the feelings, before he chose you and before he started playing you, he never knew you’d be different. Because you taught him what love was in the touch of your hands, in the way you’d always hang onto him even if he wasn’t there to hold onto you. He learned what it was because it was all you ever gave him. He learned the difference between love and lust and he knew you were it.

You were love.

Inside his head - inside his heart - feelings are banging against each other, every goddamn thing’s reminding him of you and he can’t think straight anymore, but he knows one thing.

He’s sorry.

Sorry that he chose you; sorry that he played you.

He’s sorry that he loved you. That he loved you when it was too late; when his name already brought a venom to your lips, and his presence was only the reminder of your heartbreak.

He’s sorry he ever fell in love.

He’s sorry that it’s too late.

Final Step: Realize there was more than one heart broken

He didn’t realize he set himself up for heartbreak. He never knew that he’d miserably lose a game that he created. He didn’t know that his dismay would be from a naïve, little girl like you. Because he believed that you were strung around his finger - he just didn’t bother to notice he was wrapped around yours too.

Love’s a cruel game sometimes, that came to Peter soon enough. And even the most skilled can fall from a pedestal that was maybe too high for them anyways.

And Peter fell -

And he fell hard.

do i wanna know?

a/n: i think this might’ve just topped the list as my favourite thing i’ve ever posted on here.
also, i highly recommend listening to the arctic monkeys track whilst you read. enjoy. x

                                                          ///

He should’ve stopped ages ago.

And not just with the whiskey. No, his own denseness is to blame for that. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that she’s plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminds him of her, and one drink had turned to three and now here he is, sprawled out on his sofa, shot glass long forgotten and the bottle of Jameson held tightly in his grip.

Their relationship – if you could even call it that – is what he should’ve put a stop to. They have this thing that’s unhealthy and draining and obsessive, where they are but then they aren’t. It was callous from the very beginning. They’d come into it with the sole purpose of fulfilling their own personal needs and in his words, “It’s fun and it feels good so, why not?” But soon, it had turned into them desperately wanting to give each other everything, because taking without giving was losing its appeal, and that? That is what he should have stopped.

But alas, he’s a self-serving bastard, and before it had gotten muggy with feelings and emotions, when all they cared about was making the other feel good, all that had mattered to him was the attestation of his skills. And not long after, it became less about her praises and more about making her feel good, that’s when he knew he was fucked. That is when they should have stopped.

Keep reading

there are few things that annoy me as much as the existence of the @whylarryisreal account on twitter that steals gifs, edits, art, text posts, and even fucking tags from tumblr for all their tweets, and yet has 222k followers

2

Lychcroft Mere, Kessex Hills.

You once said that a step towards recovery means I’ll need to break myself into pieces, darling I’ve been trying to put my heart back together. I like to step on myself sometimes, I don’t take compliments well because I don’t think too highly of myself. When you step on the same lego piece everyday even your ego starts to melt a little. You once said that if I find someone to hold my thoughts before I hold their heart– then maybe she’s the one. Or maybe there’s no one out there, who knows, right? We can circle around this a little longer than always, but I’ll always run back to the why. Why do I want to conquer my memories? Each city that I’ve built for them inside of my head is still bright and I’ve not let a single light bulb blow out, I’m so out of it– while thoughtlessly I’ve been reaching out of my head, my heart likes to beat me to it. It says that love can only be achieved if I chase after it. You once said that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Do you still believe in those words? Because if I’m not cruel to myself, I could be cruel to someone else. If I read enough books, do you think I’d finally own a chapter in my own life? If I open up some more, will I close off opportunities for myself to the prospect of loving myself? And what about them? Vanity is my master and I’m a slave. It’s okay to be a little vain sometimes, right? I’ve got it in my veins, maybe I’m the only honest one. You once said that if I trip over the same rock and stub my toe a million times within a week, you’d still say it’s okay. Like falling requires gravity to bend to my whispers. Like drowning demands my lies to swim back to shore. Like dying seeps through my eyes, how can I love if all I’ve got is missing pieces? You once said that a river flows like time and if I’m out of seconds– you’ll just record your voice saying I love you until I finally get it. I remember everything that love has to offer, but never the person. I remember the feeling of infection that is affection. And if I walk alone and get hit by a car, maybe it’s just another story that I won’t write. Some words live in between the lines, I’ve been seeing dualities. Life and death is just a kiss and hug. Black and white, storms and clouds are just pears and apples. Poetry and prose likes to sound sweet, but it’s the bitter bits of me that’s suicidal. Love and hate was born from strangers, so you never knew the difference between the moon and the sun– the lightness of tomorrow likes to coat the darkness of past days. Cigarettes and lung cancer, a dance of smoke that disguises itself as stress free, do you think I’ll die healthy? Drugs and my body, which one will make me feel better if I’ve been sweating for a week? You once said that we’re spinning around in a circle just waiting for someone to stop by– grab my attention and you can have my voice, steal from my hands and you can have my poems, which hurts more to have loved or to not have loved at all? An empty silence that’s so full of itself– I can’t hear myself think inside of my own head. I’ve got file cabinets tagged under read later, but I’m a sucker for love– so I feed into it. You once said if the sky breaks into a brighter day, you’ll be there. That is wishful thinking, my favorite kind. Words can’t give meaning to our story, but we still write. You once said that it has to mean something. Every statement paused long enough for several lifetimes to become real again. It feels like such a long time, but we’re still in love with them in there somewhere. It’s buried. It’s in a coffin, but it’s there and we know it. We can hear it. We can hear it. Fuck, we can hear it. That little beating that isn’t ours, it’s always theirs. And that’s my fear, you once said that maybe that’s my fate– I’m supposed to cling onto that strand of innocence, of who I used to be, to remember what it feels like to feel, it has to mean something. Giving meaning to nothing, my favorite pastime. Giving something to someone, the only way that I’ve been living. You once said that until I learn to keep more for myself, I’ll always end up in square one– alone, but as long as I’ve got you, it’s not true, right? Some thoughts like to sleep alone, that’s not one of them. Hold onto that piece of us, the poetic storm that is joy. Keep your kindness to a burn, a stretched out sunrise screaming your name is my simmer. I know about nothing and that’s my one redeeming quality. I know that I don’t know shit, and that’s why I write like this. I know that I don’t love like I used to, and that’s why I love like this. I know that I’m not the same person from last year, and that’s why my guilt likes to trip up. I know that I’m no longer in love with her, but I can’t seem to explain the empty feeling unless I spell her name backwards under a star somewhere that I can’t touch. I know that I’m still messed up, but I’m just taking advantage of my youth. You once said some people will get over you in a week, but it’ll take you a lifetime to get over someone. If forever is a drug then I’ve overdosed. If always is a lie then I’ll take the beautiful. If never is more and a secret is sore– then I’m sorry about the words that didn’t stop, I am trying. I am always trying. You once said that if we kiss the ocean long enough, the mountains will answer. I’ve buried my love letters on the highest mountain and emptied my heart into my art. If I live long enough to spread my wings, do you think I’d still be condemned? Life is too short to live in the past, but I can’t stop asking about my what ifs. Love is too long to just be over, but I’ll just keep painting over it with a new layer of red. If you’re still reading, then I’m still writing. This yin and yang battle of ours has no meaning. Tortured souls live in the canvas and I’ve seen enough chains– I shall be unbound someday. You once said I love you– darling, that’s the only fucking truth that I believe in. You once said that soulmates aren’t always lovers– I guess it’s just you. You once said that flowers don’t just bloom, they wilt– so I guess I’m just withered. You once said that if you had your way, I’d own the universe. You don’t get it. When you became my best friend, I got it.
—  You once said