my inspirtion

Maybe we were too young, too young to love. Maybe we relied on stupid teenage love stories that people like us dreamt of having. Or maybe our stars were never aligned. But dammit our love is one you’d remember even when your daughter comes home at 10:38pm heartbroken with mascara running down her face and bloodshot eyes, reminding yourself of the love we had, the love that was almost there, our love.
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #84 // unforgettable j.n.g
He asked me what I thought our relationship would look like in a month or in 10 years; I told him that, be it a month or 10 years, it will come too fast, and on any given day I will love him more than yesterday.
—  He asked about 10 years, but I was thinking about forever
I loved him, I really did. I thought he loved me too. He didn’t, he never had, all I was to him was a warm body. I didn’t matter, but he never let that on. Until one day I had enough. I left him. I left his cold heart on the curb where it belonged. When he came back, begging for me, it broke me. Where was this years ago when I loved him? Where was this when he used me? If I had let him back into my life, would things have changed. No, I’m not going to let him use me all over again. I am done.
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never read #82 // anonymous

There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
He hangs onto them…
Every word that comes out of your mouth
The way you have a slight smirk when you’re telling a funny story
He looks at you like someone put all the stars in your eyes.

He wishes for you
He loves that you’re so easy to talk to
He loves that you listen
You should see the way he looks at you when you’re talking
Almost as though he’s never heard anything quite so beautiful

He looks at you like you’re an angel
He’s amazed by your blissful elegance
He loves everything about you
He wants to be immersed in your beauty
And how could we know that??

Well you should see the way he looks at you when you’re talking…
His looks explain it all.


4:19am // “You should see the way he looks at you when you’re talking….”

S/O to whomever submitted this sentence into my ask box… I’m sorry I accidentally deleted it from my ask box, I didn’t mean to! However, I hope you enjoy this!

Do I matter that little
Because I matter to myself
And I need you to see that I’m scared and running out of ideas. I can’t do this if you’re not going to help me. I’ve survived a lot and been knocked down
And been hit over the head while being told to smile by some so close to me who used to bring protection on cold and stormy nights and by some I’ve laid my head on that I’ve Met along the way hoping to find peace.
So I will continue to fight because I just don’t know what else to do but I’m slowly realizing that I may be the only one wanting to fight.
And if so and if I matter this little in the eyes of others who should be there to help me, then don’t cast judgment when I give up and then they all look around and wonder where I went because I was gone long before you noticed I was missing.
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #81 // @jokerscurve

What is love?
Is it an unconditional acceptance of each other?
Is it laughing more than you fight?
Is it getting lost in his sea of auburn eyes, and realizing that you’ll never want to experience the feeling with anyone else?
Beats me. I’ve never felt anything close to it.

But I crave it. I crave love.
I crave the cuddles and the laughter.
I crave the hugs and the aroma of cologne as I grasp onto him a little tighter.
I crave the hand holding and how his thumb moves slightly back and forth over my hand.
I crave the kisses and the fireworks that I feel.

I crave the affection.

And I may never know what love is. But I sure as hell crave the feeling of being in a relationship. I miss that adventure of trying to figure out if he’s the one, or if you’re meant for each other. I miss the fun dates and the places you would take me that I would end up falling in love with. I miss it all.

I miss being wanted.
Because lately I feel completely unwanted.
And completely unloved.

Just thought I’d post this since it’s been in my drafts for a while now.

It's always raining these days

I always associated the sound of rain with the feel of us.
Gentle and caring
Not too overbearing

But torrential downpours flood lives and lungs until the water makes up all of you and your breaths are droplets dangling from the edge of an eyelash.
They roll down
They’re no more
I am no more
And I always thought drowning was a peculiar way of death
Because death and water are best friends you see
70% of the human body is made up of water
70% of the human body is already dead
And if you start handing out the remaining 30% to fantasies of strangers and other halves and kisses in the rain-you’re killing yourself.
Because the afterlife isn’t heaven or hell -it’s a sea.
With deep waters and shallow ends and not enough room.
Not enough room to house our memories of blue walls and hurried breaths and a very sudden passionate hate for clothing.

I can’t hear anything but the rain.
Suddenly I hear the deep timbre of your voice
You walk in the room wearing that black shirt I hate but love to see on you
You move closer and my heartbeat accelerates debating the decision to run away or stay
I can SMELL you now
You bend down and whisper but my ears lose track of your words because the sound of our heartbeats drown out the rain and shroud your voice
I can feel the heat from your body envelop me in a warm tight hug
Why are you walking away?
I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did wrong.
Please stay.

And my subconscious digs out the whisper in your voice that said-
“I love you but I can’t.. I just can’t do this anymore.”
And I’m trying so hard to cling to this 5% of me. To not give you the rest of me.
You say you love me but you’re still leaving.
You see I always associated the sound of rain with the feel of us.

And I still do.