As far as people and relationships goes, if you want in, I’ll let you stay; but if you want out, I won’t hold you back.
— 

-I’m not going to beg you to stay, but I won’t ask you to go.

-m.t.t.

Six months have past and I can finally say:
I don’t love you.
Maybe I’m still in love with the walk we took
in October
Or the time you first kissed my cheek
in December
Or when I stayed up on your birthday
But you fell asleep on mine.
Perhaps I can’t forget the way
You put your arm around me
Or the shape of your lips
But, God, I promise you
I don’t love you anymore.
I might be in love with our memories
But I sure as hell don’t love you.
—  we’ve both moved on but it still stings to smell your scent and that’s okay (July 1 // 5:56 a.m.)
If I lost you tomorrow,
I would name a star after you. 
Just so that every time I see it
I know that somewhere
out in the vast universe,
you are alive,
you exist
and
you are happy.
—  “What Would You Do If You Lost Me?” He Asked | Nikita Gill
One day you’ll wake up and realize you don’t miss him anymore. That day will come I promise, just as surely as death and taxes do.

Alone.

People used to at least pretend,
And say that they were here.
Though I knew it wasn’t true,
A false sense of comfort
Was always better
Than no comfort at all.

I am in a constant state of complete silence
With only my mind to rely on.
But my mind is bent
On tearing itself to pieces,
And my heart only encourages the fight.

I pick myself apart,
And there’s no one there
To glue me back together.
So I will scatter myself across the ground.
I will live in constant agony,
In a state of destruction that never ends.
Solitude is deadly.

RAILWAYS AND LAUNDROMATS

Consider the freight train
running along my torso. Do you
hear the distant shrieking, the
warning, the steel braces quivering
at your touch?

Consider the damp linen hanging
in the corner of my eye. Do not
forget to switch the
laundry. Lay flat to dry.

I am losing things in the bed.
I am not
crying. I am leaking, lying.

Razor your fingertips, burrow
into my spine. Unhinge the brackets
of my ribs, live in the hollow. Chisel
your name into my collarbone, carve away with your pickaxe tongue.

But do not make your
home in me,
do not get lost
in me,
do not drop anchor.

Stop. You will lose
the red string you tied somewhere
inside my stomach. The labyrinth is
hungry and has a taste
for your blood.

Instruction Manual of My
Body: How To Immortalize
What Is Already Dead.
Commit the sinking delta of my throat
to memory. Leave voicemails of gasps
until your lungs are
at capacity. Keep a map of my
bruised lips, I have been here and here and here. Worship the altitudes and
the crumblings of my flesh. Take
fistfuls when you go.

I am lost in the bed
and you never read the instructions.

- e.m. and kat myers vellichours

Oh, how you draw me in,
you tease me like a player.
I don’t know how to win,
your game’s too strong and clever.

I know in my heart, you’re no good for me,
yet I can’t help but dream.
I want you like I need the air I breathe,
but you like when I’m weak.

You’re just a beautiful illusion,
a fear I can’t get out of my mind.
A schoolgirl fantasy,
bring out that side of me,
until everything goes wrong…