simple poetry

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.
Look at me and tell me you don’t feel anything. See me smiling and tell me it doesn’t hurt. Know I’m not writing about you and tell me you’re still the same person you were a moment ago. Go ahead. You can tell me what you want because I’ll know what you mean. That’s the thing about a person who used to love you. They get in your head, take off their shoes and get comfortable. Tell me you don’t miss me. You do.

Bullshit, you fucking miss me by k.p.k

You claim to love her, inside and out, but the only time you call her beautiful is when it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already turned you down.
—  girls tell each other everything, c.j.n.
Don’t make me love you like that.
Don’t make me love you with an empty stomach
so hungry I grow my teeth into nails
just to leave wounds so deep
you no longer call them love bites.
I don’t want you to become a poem.
Here is simple. Here is happiness spelled backwards
it turns into your laugh even without a punchline.
Here is a word and another I couldn’t even place right
in a sentence because your eyes are on me.
And darling, they are bees. They are bees
feeding on the pollen of my skin like I have plenty.
Don’t make me have you, I get scared of losing.
This love is a punch on a wall. Its either
swallowing your hand until your heart beats slower,
or cracking into cement ripple when I finally let you go.
It is not that much, I know
but I promise you its enough, its whole.
—  Kharla M. Brillo, Confession XVI

baby, go home. he’s seen somebody else’s eyes and fallen into them. 

i know it hurts in places you can’t touch, i know the sky feels darker for it. but he’s loved somebody else, baby, and so should you.

don’t stay. you’ll spend your time worrying what you did wrong, whether tomorrow you’ll wake up and he’ll be gone. you’ll try to become better for him when you’re already somebody’s impossible dream. you’ll try to be her when you’re already exactly who you need to be.

people make mistakes, but nobody accidentally winds up naked. either he loves you enough to keep his clothes on, or he doesn’t love you enough for you to waste your time on him.

go home. cry. take long showers. tell yourself you deserve better than a future spent worrying about him.

relationships are built on trust. find somebody who won’t mess it up.

—  In answer to someone who asked me: “Do you think it’s possible to be with someone who cheated on you/Is it possible to work through that at all?” // r.i.d

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 want to disappear.

there’s no use in saving a colorless world.

używacie bardzo trudnych słów
i ogromnej ilości przecinków.
Macie myśli
głębokie jak wiaderko.
Słowa powinny być jak życie
bardzo proste
Rodzisz się cierpisz majaczysz i umierasz.
—  Andy the Poet