rejects corner

Out there
lives a version of me
I’ve never met.
She’s got shorter, kaleidoscope hair
and lips fuller than the moon.
She lives in the city
and says ‘No’ like a complete sentence.
And I don’t know which one of us
is right,
which version of me
is closer to the truth,
but we are two halves of a dreamer.
She has to be happier;
I hope she’s so much happier.
—  Schuyler Peck, Another Earth
I cling to everything -
CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green,
the dead ends of my hair, old love notes
that turn my stomach over and over.
And I’m not proud but there are still boxes under my bed.
And I’m not proud but my closet is still running out of space.
And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time
but my heart is full with it.
Tell me I won’t hold this forever.
Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go.
—  Fortesa Latifi - Hold This
And i hope that when it’s 3am and i cross your mind, you feel like you jumped off the highest building and your ribs crack from the fall. And I hope when restlessness is your only companion, you think of me. And as you think of me you realise the beauty of heartbreak, the beauty that I felt for years.
And I hope you fall into piles of regrets and break the spine you never had, and I hope you rummage through your closet looking for pieces of me when someone asks how I’m doing. And I hope you find my first hand written letter to you and you get poisoned with the sweetness and genuineness of the words. And i hope your wounds remain raw long enough for you to realise, to never break another heart, to never betray another love. And I hope that you stare into your reflection in the mirror and you see a tear streaking down your cheek. And I hope that your inflated pride shatters from the weariness of your soul and I hope that the next person that comes to your life, keeps you in your place, unlike me. I hope she doesn’t make the same mistakes that I did.
—  i wish you hell
He always dominates.

Emotions cold,
Mind perfect
And observing.

He never spoke
Of softer passions,
For delicate temperament
Was distracting,

A crack
In a nature such as his.

Yet one woman,
One smirk,
And he drifted

—  poeticallyordinary (this came from a blackout poem I did.)
When it’s no longer me you’re excited to talk to after a long day at work, or as soon as you wake up, I will let you go. When it’s night and you can’t sleep not because we’re still talking but because someone else is still awake and her replies make you smile, I will let you go. When you blush over a photo that is not mine but someone else’s, when you smile over a post that is not from me, when you feel happy over the thought of making her happy, I will let you go. When the sun rises and I see you smiling for someone else, when the sun sets and someone else is the reason why you had a wonderful day, when it rains and my hug and my warmth are not the ones you need, when it’s stormy and you’re worried over someone’s safety and not mine, I will let you go. When you say I love you and it’s no longer for me, when your back is slowly turning for someone else to lean on, when I no longer got you like you used to say, love – I will let you go. I will let you go, just like how you made me fall for you, slowly but with honesty. I will let you go, just like how the sky changes its colors - from clear blue to pitch black. Love, I want you to always be reminded that my love will never cease, but that doesn’t mean I won’t give way if your happiness is no longer within my arms’ reach.
—  11:40//This is how I will let you go
I will be anything. I will be anything if it means I get to be with you. I will be the sun if it means you’ll love me. I will be the sky if it means you’ll touch me. And you’ll be the only one touching me. I will be orange when you wrap your hands around my throat. Blue when you can’t sleep enough. You are every colour i will ever need. Put your hands on me and i will tremble and i will tremble all the stars with me. The entire sky will be burning with your name. Did i say it already? Do i get to repeat? Please. Let me say it again. Here, my hands, my shoulder. Would you like some coffee? I will be the mug and the coffee in it. Did you know your sighs are every prayer i ever needed? I like your knees. I like what your mouth does to my name.
—  Nayha Y. “Inali, poetry and other lovely things”
If You're Hungry Shut up And Go Get Some Food

If you’re moody
Go on a walk
Listen to some music

If you’re tired
Scream at the top of your lungs
Rub the back of your head nervously

If you’re anxious
Hyperventilate until you collapse
Then take a nap

If you’re angry
Remember why you’re angry
And whose not responsible

If you’re cold
Put on a sweater on

If you’re hot
Take your clothes off

If you’re restless
Have a seizure
Write a symphony
Start a fire

If you’re sad
Write some poetry

If you’re bitter
Add skim milk and artificial sweetener

If you’re confused
Act cool
And just pretend you know what you’re talking about

If you’re dying in a hospital
Flip off the doctor
And smile

If you’re dying in the street
Crawl into the gutter

If you’re fading away
Become the dust

If you’re frustrated
Break some glass
Pay for the damages

If you’re embarrassed
Laugh at yourself

If you’re pale
Own it

If you’re broken
We can talk all night

We become the sunlight border
of an almost-closed window.
We become the salt sweat coming
out of the back of Eve when she gave Adam the apple.
We become the hands that hold
and the hands that don’t know how to let go,
coil wrapped around our necks, shadows behind our backs,
a silent purple fistfight on our mahogany skin and yet,
and yet, we stay at every word that hangs in the mouths
of men who love us in past tense.
We become the bottles of milk left behind the sink.
We become the roof, the walls, the soldiers
without guns, we become mothers—lungs stretching out
like a shoreline, chest becoming an ocean for two.
We become the promise that we have told ourselves
when we were little. I want to be a princess. A princess.
A princess. And then I don’t.
I am blood, marrow, bones, flesh,
breast, lips, hair. I am. I am.
I am a woman. And then We are.
We are witches and granddaughters with too
little magic but enough strength.
We are the throats that learned how not to silent.
We are the voice that learned how to make thunder out of quiet.
We bang on every door who told us we should stay inside.
We missile every country who never expected us to run a war.
—   Kharla M. Brillo | All The Women We Needed To Become

The Chinese character for fire, 火,
is so written because it resembles the shape of a flame itself. The
character for eye, 目, resembles the shape of an eye. The character for door, 门, resembles the shape of a door, complete with a knocker on top. So on and so forth.

If I were to write you, you would be 关, meaning: closed. Meaning: cut, barrier. Resembling the shape of a gate. Meaning: I will never knock on your door again.

—  Venetta Octavia, “回”
A woman I used to take care of would stay in her pajamas and watch Rachel Ray in the morning. English breakfast tea with just enough milk to make it light. She’d make jokes about staying dangerous when buying a spontaneous extra can of cream of mushroom soup. Some of us never lose our jokes.
My best friend closes her eyes when the summer wind runs its fingers through her hair. She inhales deep, like she’s about to dive down into the sun. It is something special to watch someone fall in love with the world.
My husband keeps an art gallery of growing greens. There are wildflowers on the windowsill and succulents by the back door. He tells me the snap peas are almost ready to harvest; that he can’t wait to show our kids how the earth works, how good things require care.
In small glimpses, I am stealing snapshots of people in their purest moments. I am pasting moments over. I am scrap-booking the good in humanity, the little visions of light, and saving it when everything else goes dark.
—  Schuyler Peck, The People I Know
I am sick and tired of people telling me
that I need to move on
from the boy I am in love with
because I am hurting over the fact
that he doesn’t love me back,
that he is just a friend,
that I am wasting away my life,
that I am not enjoying it to the fullest,
that I am not giving myself or someone else a chance,
but how do I explain
that yes it hurts to not be loved back,
yes it hurts to just be friends
with someone you are so madly in love with
but I am not wasting away my life,
I do whatever I am supposed to do,
I do whatever I want to do,
I am not always this depressed over him,
I do have friends,
I do have a life which is boring
but at the same time exciting and good
and that trying to be good enough for him
even when I am not and won’t be
has made me a better person
—  Isn’t love about trying to be your best self for someone even when you are the only one in love, even when the love is only one person’s, even when they don’t love you back // JustScribbledWords
I’m begging you, just please let me go. If you can’t stay true to me, if you can’t honor your words, if you keep on telling me you love me yet you won’t stop looking for someone else, please let me go. Please just let me be while I can still take the hurt, while I still choose to love you despite everything that you’re doing behind my back, while I still choose to see all the best things you have done instead of your shortcomings. Please, if you have no intention of holding me, of loving me unconditionally, just say it to my face and I will accept it. I will be happy to let you go and see you happy with somebody else rather than see you forcing yourself to stay with me. I will forget every words you uttered, every hope you made me cling on to, everything you did to make me fall for you. I will forget all the things like it never happened, like WE never happened. Just please, if you can’t be honest to me, please be honest to yourself. If you’re unsure of what you really wanted, just please.. let me go.