spiled

Kill Me In The Fall Time

Kill me in the Fall time;
A murder most divine.
Hang me from an acorn tree
Upon a pumpkin vine.

Hide me in the Autumn leaves,
For they are dead as well;
Crisp leaves became a masterpiece
Only when they fell.

Mask the smell with cider spice,
And harvest apple pie;
For in this way we celebrate
The season when things die.

when i was 11, i was in a relationship because i said “i love you” and we decided to start dating. it only lasted a month and im pretty sure he has hated me ever since we broke up.

when i was 16, i had a friend who would say “i love you guys” when all i really wanted him to say was “i love you” to me. i believed i was madly in love with him. he ended up saying “i love you” to my best friend and they are still dating to this day.


when i was 16, another friend comforted me. he said “i love you” and that he felt for me because of what had happened. he made me feel special and happy again. i said i love you too, hoping maybe this would go somewhere. we kissed in his gross garage, we were both sweaty from walking in the heat and it lasted for about 2 seconds. after that day, i never heard a word from him again.


when i was 17, i started dating a guy because he was nice, and because a guy was actually talking to me and telling me he wanted to be with me. we talked all summer and began dating in the fall. he said “i love you” after dating for about a week. December came and “i love you” turned into “what did i do to make you ignore me like this?” January came and i finally broke it off because the silence was killing me. my first true heartbreak. i still haven’t talked to him since mid December.


now I’m 18, at this point, the three words “I love you” mean absolutely nothing. for me it turned into what you say to parents and relatives. what you say because you know it will make the other person happy. its what you say because thats what you’re supposed to do in a relationship. the words had lost all meaning. my heart was broken so many times that it turned into something you say it because it feels right, not because you mean it.


and then you came along. i wasn’t expecting you to be a part of my life. you started to talk to me and i was taken aback. i was cautious. i knew that if “i love you” slipped your tongue like it had the others, you wouldn’t mean it. but for our first date, instead of meeting you somewhere, you picked me up and took me. you let me share my darkest secrets. you met my family, and i met yours. you showed me off. i was scared. i knew that if i lost you, my whole world would crash into a brick wall. i knew that you could be the one i could spend the rest of my life with. you earned my trust, something that wasn’t very easy at the time.


after 5 months, thats when i realized, i love you. i didn’t just want to say it because i felt like i had to. i genuinely love you, with every atom in my body. you bring out something in me that makes me so much happier and joyful. you are good to me. you are patient and gentle and anything i could ever ask for. so when i say this, know this is something i truly, honestly mean:


I love you.

—  n.k.//10:44
what i love you means to me

i.
I think you find heaven in me too often
where hell resides.
You’re finding beauty in my pain,
but when the tears fall
you can’t even look me in the face.

ii.
I think I thought it would be different this time.
Maybe the fire would be tamed,
maybe things wouldn’t live in this dark place
but I’ve fallen flat in a disgrace.

iii.
If this is a race
I’ve fallen behind.
If you search for salvation in me,
if I pray to you,
we’ll both fall to our knees.
Tempting God, a repeat of history.

iv.
I think maybe we better shut the lights off
and look away.
If your hands find me in the dark,
I’ll shy away.
If my fingers brush your skin,
you’ll scream in pain.

v.
In these circles of hell,
things remain this way.
Until one of us changes,
until one of us breaks.
But we’ll continue to play this game anyway.

I think lately I’ve learned what maturity is.
Maturity isn’t about being a “lady” in your actions, nor having a good language or being qualified enough to deal with people, no.
Maturity is when you reach to the point where you ask yourself; “who am I and who I want to be?” When you start to realize that your existence was meant to be for a reason, that you have something specialized only for you to do. And most importantly, it’s when you start searching for the answers.
Maturity is when your realize that your happiness comes first, no matter how much things and people you have to cut off. It’s when you realize that your smiles and laughs must be there on your face before your tears.
When you learn that loving someone isn’t enough to stop them from hurting you and it’s never your fault, knowing when to let go before it’s too tight that it could suffocate you.
Maturity is when you become your own best friend, your own priority.
It’s when you know what is and who is good for you and to protect them, protect the people you love.
Maturity is when you know that you and only you can achieve what you want and to protect who you really are and no one is going to do that for you.
Maturity is stepping out of your comfort zone.
Maturity is embracing your faults and working around them.
Maturity is marking your thoughts in big words and bright colors.
Maturity is knowing that your dreams are worth the stars.
—  Know your worth.| Infinite excerpts. -JH

It was a tragic sort of love. The kind of love people look at and tut at and pity. The kind that the universe mocks because it was never meant to happen, yet it did. It was doomed from the beginning. The saddest part? Neither of them stopped loving. Neither of them stopped trying. And it fell apart anyway.

Today you are bruised knuckles and dark eyes filled with tears, ready to spill. You are holding it all in, imagining you could drop your feelings and thoughts into a box and shove them under your bed where no one thinks to look. You are a painfully beating heart and lungs that can’t take it all in at once. You are split lips and clenched teeth, sandpaper tongue and parched throat. You are the scream that builds up in the pit of your empty stomach, you are the nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, the blisters on your burned fingertips. But this is only what you are today. What you are because you can’t always be in control, and things don’t always go right and make sense. Think of what you can be tomorrow. You can be roaring laughter and dancing in the shower. You can be eyes lit up with passion, a pounding heart and songs belted out at the top of your lungs. You can be spilled poems and the first colourful streak on an empty canvas. You can be slow hands and softly spoken words, you can be a sky full of stars. You can be anything, really. And maybe, on some days, this has to be enough. Knowing that it can be different. Knowing that some days are terrible and some are great, but understanding that tomorrow you will get a new chance. Think of who you are and think of who you could be. And notice how these two people are one and the same.
—  one and the same / n.j.
I could write a whole book about my bad mental health, but I don’t think that would be very helpful so I’m just gonna tell you this: you are going to have good days, and you are going to have bad days. So take the most from your good days; laugh till your stomach hurts, make silly jokes and be kind to strangers. It will be a remainder for your bad days that you still have a chance on happiness.
—  giulswrites