Do what your heart says, they say. But my heart yearns chaos and destruction, how can I ever fulfill its wish? What can you do with a heart that longs for nothing but brokenness?
The ruins they made of your heart, they are still loved. They are cherished by the memories they give refuge to, the wildflowers of peace that have taken root in their walls, and the birds of epiphany that have nested and given birth to newer, more beautiful truths about you. The ruins they made of your heart, they are not ruins at all. They are an incredible universe made of blood and muscle and stars.
—  Nikita Gill
(love)
  
i let him inside last night, it was cold,
the blood on the living room carpet is mine
not his, his chipped china face
shouldn’t be there, his sing-song voice
shouldn’t echo where it doesn’t belong.
he shouldn’t belong here.
   
(lover)
  
i let him closer to my heart than any other
childhood memory martyr,
any other missing fragment, fractured
glass shard fingernails digging into flesh,
this mighty muscle has become so raw
i doubt healing will be an option.
  
(loved)
  
i miss him.  i miss feeling fields of strawberry lips
swaying, lulling me to sleep in his arms,
strong trees that planted roots among my own.
“its only dirt” he’d said,
but this dirt was my only home.
  
(lost.)
   
i can’t plant flowers here anymore.
his roots sucked the soil dry, void of happiness,
i can’t grow gardens anymore. spots of orange light
still shine through drawn curtains,
but the setting sun is not enough. this isn’t enough.
it was never enough.
i was never enough.
—  poeticallyordinary; Love, Lover, Loved, Lost.

I long for what I can no longer feel:
Warmth
Peacefulness…
Joy.

For I no longer know the meaning of happiness
without you by my side.

When I am to feel hope, and thank God for the opportunities…
Sadness remains by my side
And inside
If I am to feel joy, to smile
It imprisons me
Clings to my sleeve
Begging me not to leave it behind.

So I learned
to continue down my path in life
even if the sadness remains engraved within me.

I only have two choices:
To let it hold me back, chain me to my past
Or to take it alongside me
Letting it be a reminder for what has been
and for what never will be.

اشتاق لما لم أعد احصل عليه
الدفئ
الطمئنينة…
السعادة.

فأنا لم أعد اعرف معنى السعادة
بدونك بجانبي

كلما شعرت بالامل، و شكرت ربي..
يبقى الحزن بجانبي
و بداخلي
اذ أكاد ان افرح، ان ابتسم
يقيِّدُني
يتمسك بي
بالرجاء ان لا اتركه ورائي.

لذا تعلمت
ان امشي بدربي في الحياة
و لو بقيَ الحزن بداخلي.

فإما ان اتركه يمسكني و يقيِّدُني في الماضي
و إما ان آخذه معي
و اجعله تذكرة لما كان
و ما لن سيكون.

‏(N.S)

—  Sunday poetry; reflection on life.

I remember those nights I awoke from nightmares, my sheets damp from sweat yet my body shivered like I had just finished an ice bath. My teeth would chatter and I’d scan my bedroom for the monsters, finding crazy-shaped heads in the shadows and green eyes peeking out from closed closet doors. I would slowly, carefully step out of bed so as not to wake them and sprint to my parent’s bedroom telling my seven-year-old self, don’t look back. I would traipse over to my parent’s bed and squirm in between them, and it was in the warmth of familiar faces that I could fall back asleep within seconds.


But something changes when you get older. I’ve learned monsters are not shadows in the dark nor are they nightmares that disappear when the sun rises. You can’t just wake up and find yourself back in your own bed anymore. They are within you and they are wherever you look. You may even get a better night’s sleep now because for you, seven hours of closed eyes means seven hours of escape.


But don’t push the monsters away.


Set them free.


Let them out of your mind, your blood, your bones.


Write.

—  Leigh, day 337
No one ever saw my bruises because no one ever saw my body.
— 

Yesika Salgado - “Compilation”

Performing at Art Share LA. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!

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everyone thinks that just because you don’t talk about something it means your over it, but I find that the things you don’t talk about are usually the things that either mean the most or hurt the most.
and you were both.
my friends tried to get me to talk about it, asked me what happened, asked me if we still talked. everyone thinks, that because i said nothing it meant I felt nothing but what they didn’t know was that if I started talking about it, if I told them what happened,
how you loved me one day and you were gone the next, then i wouldn’t stop talking about it and I wouldn’t stop crying about it.
and people tried to make jokes, talked about how you were always talking too fast and how your hair was too messy and they told me how after the breakup I looked so much better but none of that mattered and none of that helped.
no one understood that I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to talk about your bad habits or the way you did your hair, and I didn’t want to hear that I won the breakup or you won the breakup or how it was your loss or my loss. I just didn’t want to hear about any of it. I wanted to ignore your existence. I wanted to forget all of it, because I couldn’t even get your name out of my mouth without feeling like I was tasting poison. How was I supposed to talk about any of it when I couldn’t even say your name.
Pretending like I didn’t know you was so much easier and no body understood that. Everyone thinks I’ve moved on and I’m way past it but I’m so far behind. I still feel the same way I felt 5 months ago when you told me you didn’t love me anymore. I still feel the same and I still love you and it still hurts. And everyone says talking about it helps but I don’t know how I’m supposed to talk about it when I can’t even say your damn name. I don’t know how to move on. All i know is to live my life like we never met and although thats helped a lot, its not true because we did meet, and we were something and now I’m a fucking mess because of it.
—  “Just talk about it”
Isn’t it crazy how we make memories we wish could last forever and as soon as we drift apart from that person all we want to do is forget?
— 

Wandering-thoughts-lost-voice

3:00 a.m. chronicles.

I kept my true thoughts of you hidden, locked away in the darkest parts of my mind. But every once in awhile, they would inch closer and closer to the front of my mind so I couldn’t ignore them anymore.
I started actually hearing what my friends said about you. The words rang so true that even when I tried I couldn’t deny them. They stuck and I found myself thinking of them over and over.
But when I started writing, that’s when they really came out. They flowed out like water and rushed out of my mind like a waterfall.
I couldn’t deny them anymore. They couldn’t stay hidden.
—  v.m
She sits like a time piece always working, always watching, and always the most worthy part of the collection. Sometimes she calculates so reserved and quiet that you don’t even realise what it means to have her but god knows, should you get lost in your own infinity, she will always have the time to drag you from your depths. Wear her, and when she’s weary hold her close. This is when you’ll know she is yours – and know she’s the best you’ll ever have.
—  When the time comes, you’ll know. // A.S

i never thought i’d get over him.
in contrary i thought he would haunt my thoughts forever.
i thought the pain in my stomach every time i saw him with someone else would never end.
i thought that the butterflies in my stomach when i saw his name would never go away.

but it all went away.
someone else gives me butterflies when i see their name.
someone else treats me better than he ever did.
someone else makes me feel like a princess.
i don’t care who he’s with or what’s happening with him.

so to everyone who’s stuck on someone who hurt them deeply, it goes away. the pain fades and the jealousy stops. the butterflies are now coming from a different source. you’ll find someone who makes smile every time you see them or hear their name. you’ll find someone who treats you better than they ever did. you got this babes