poem-tattoo

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
I won’t glorify or romanticize heartbreak, for me it was a kind of death and I was forced to keep living.
—  Warsan Shire
4

“the old that is strong does not wither”

happy birthday Fernando Torres, you ageless elf!

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
The hours between 12am and 6am have a funny habit of making you feel like you’re either on top of the world, or under it
i got wildflowers tattooed because
they have a knack
for knowing when the time is right
for them to start to grow.
it’s a reminder i think i’ll need for a while,
and a skill i’ll need to emulate. 
(and even if they start to
lose their meaning in my mind,
on my skin they bloom forever-
if this stitched-together soul
can keep these flowers alive,
then no storm will be enough to break me.)
—  a.b.e.