this was worth waking up for

Maybe it hurts right now. It makes you want to rip out your own heart because every beat feels like dying a thousand times over. It makes you want to cry yourself to sleep and never wake up. But you know what? That pain? That pain is how you know it meant something. And yeah, it hurts. It’ll keep on hurting. But at least you had something that was worth all the pain you’re feeling.

the moon rests amongst a quilt of stars, and yet everyday she chooses to fall in love with the sun,
a galaxy worth of celestial bodies envelopes the sun, and still he chooses to love only the moon,
every morning i wake up, from talking to the moon and her sun, and i remember that only the universe could create two bodies so pure and a love so eternal.

shoutout to the students with dyslexia who have panic attacks when they are asked to read out loud in front of the class 

shoutout to the students with ADHD who are constantly being called lazy, who’s teachers have given up on them because they aren’t as organised or attentive as others 

shoutout to the students with depression who have to hide their feelings because they’re afraid of the stigma associated with their illness 

shoutout to the students with Complex-PTSD who strive for perfection because their parents never acknowledge their accomplishments 

shoutout to the students with mental illness, who still manage to graduate high school and wake up in the mornings even though they might not think life’s worth living 

Find someone....
  • Find someone who isn’t afraid to admit that they miss you.
  • Someone who knows you aren’t perfect but treats you as if you’re.
  • Someone who’s bigger fear is losing you.
  • One who gives their heart completely.
  • Someone who says I love you and means it.
  • Last but not least find someone who wakes you up everyday and falls for you all over again.
If you wake up feeling like a bad memory let me remind that you’re real, that you’re important. if you wake up and feel like background noise let me play you on repeat until you get stuck in my head. if you wake up and the weight of the world is weighing you down, give it to me, I’ll carry it for you. if you wake up and can’t find a single thing worth loving about yourself, if you wake up and feel like there’s not a single bone in your body that this is good enough, let me convince you that you’re wrong. if you wake up feeling like anything less than what you are, and what you are is awe inspiring, music I can’t stop dancing to, summer time clouds, let me in, you have so many people banging on the doors trying to get to you, open it up.
—  laceerainspoetry, we’re here if you need us
you make waking up at 4 am worth it.
and waking up beside you makes the
butterflies in my stomach flare up.
exploding of orange and pink
as it overcomes my blues and purple.
just like sunrise. you are my sunrise.
your touch crawls inside my body.
tingling every inch of my temporal soul.
your baby blue eyes
gives me warmth and joy.
just like sunrise. you are my sunrise.
then you wrapped me in your arms.
your presence became my blanket of security.
i felt like home as we watch the world together.
then you said I’m the only one in
this world that matters.
then you kissed my lips
and i touched your face.
and our souls danced together
as we become one.
and when you look at me
you reach my deepest trench.
and when i look at you
i see an embodiment of paradise.
you said i touched your oceans.
i said you touched my skies.
and the world witnessed everything.
i am your twilight and you are my sunrise.
—  secnarfile
i know it’s long but i promise it’s worth the read <3

“someone once told me, your poem doesn’t start until you start telling the truth. so i call this my first poem”.

let me tell you what i learnt about people.  no, not people in general, but the hard ones.  i don’t mean complicated or troubled, but hard as in tough, in all the wrong places.

when they flash you with a smile like the sun that creeps through your window when you just wake up, you know you should look away because it hurts your eyes, but you look anyways.  it shines, in all the rooms in your body that are lacking light.

so when they see you smiling back, they will string a constellation of pretty words along your spine, making you feel like they are the reason you are standing so bright,

and when you put a welcome sign in front of your heart,

that’s when they jaywalk through your chest

even though they have no intentions of staying

yet they will stay long enough for you to hand over your heart, like a piece of gold you’ve been treasuring your whole life,

and carelessly they take it because you are the type of gold they need to experience having-

so even though they know they will hurt you, they place you between their dirty fingers and

tell you something along the lines: “I’ve never felt so rich, like i have everything right here”.

and you want to say

“baby, you have everything, everything i am, right there, in that palm, please be careful”

but instead you kiss them and they kiss you back

and their hands start wandering the map of your body and all you could think of is

travelling never felt so cheap

but you let them,

And their mouth starts eating you up like you are every craving needed to satisfy their taste buds

and you let them,

because this is how you make a man happy. this is how you make a man love you.

and that’s when everything changes.

when they feel every edge that you handed over, when they touch every inch you offered humbly, when they get a good look at everything, your skin and bones and pulse and dust, when they realize how much this is,

how much of an earthquake and storm and tragedy you are,

it shakes them with the realization that the sun sets, and the shine isn’t permanent;

that’s when everything changes.  

that is when the pretty words start unraveling like the peal of a tangerine and the void of what they have to offer you back

hits your spine so hard you become one with the pavement and you wonder if you could ever get back up.

and when you realize they have no strength to help you back on your feet, when the fight and courage you thought they had isn’t there, they will leave you after saying something like “i can’t make you happy” and “you will find better than me”.

you will lie there, naked and cold and empty, and cry so hard your eyesight will be so blurry like your windshields don’t work and it’s raining so much but you keep going,

hoping the storm in your eyes would convince them to

come back. come back because if not, i don’t want this storm to ever end, i don’t want to see if you aren’t there to be seen.

you will ask why they did it. why did they come back, begging your love when they had no intention of loving you back.  no intention of keeping your gold heart safe,

instead,

after using it up, they throw it out like an old pair of jeans, although once a favourite,

and they will say,

“it just didn’t fit anymore”

like that makes all the sense in the world

and they won’t even look you in the eyes,

instead they will get angry that you are hurting.

they will try to settle the aches by telling you how much you meant to them, and how they had to give it another try just because

"it’s you. and it’s you and me”.

they will tell you something along the lines that

it’s not your fault, they just can’t love you, like their heart isn’t capable

and you just want to scream because you can’t understand

how a person can be so selfish that they had to manipulate you into loving them, only so they can experience a person with a heart likes yours, loving them.  how they admired your gold so much, they risked shattering it by taking it out of the safest place it can be placed in, knowing their body is a war zone. How their curiosity was more important than your togetherness. You wonder how selfish and hard a person must be to drink you from a shot glass they know they can’t handle, and when they throw you up the day after, how they just walk away without cleaning up the mess,

you wonder how a single moment like this can make you question the significance of your existence.

and that’s when everything changes.

they warn you

“i never lose”

and you realize it was always a game to them.  

how they watched you sacrifice and sacrifice and

give and give. how they just watched.

one minute they are holding you in their arms, as the beauty of the moon and the wishes of the stars melt onto their chest, and they are promising you mountains and oceans,

and the next they have you bowing to their toes, as they make you into nothing but the dirt that dirties their bare feet.

that’s when they walk away by walking over you like you are nothing but a spec of their past, something not worthy to be moved forward with.  one moment, they want to spend the rest of their life with you, but then, the moment they feel a little bit of fear and insecurity tingling in their throat, they pretend you are choking them and run away. without even having the decency or respect to let you go with kindness. gentleness. dignity.

and this is what i learnt when i learned about people like this:

after all this. after all the pulling and pushing. the grabbing and letting go.  the playing and carelessness.  The apathy. the taking and taking and taking .

This is what I learnt:

you are not a man because you claim to be one.

no.

when you do not know or recognize the value of a human heart, you should not be going around collecting them, to make up for the lack of yours.

they are not prized possessions.

when you cannot take responsibility for the scars you left on the body you undressed, played with, and then abandoned,

when you constantly look for fault in others to keep your ego untouched,

when your pretty words are nothing but pretty words, keep them.  stop spreading them around, making hearts believe you mean them, when the coward in you won’t make actions out of them.

this is what you taught me:

it is easier to spread my legs open with your bare hands, than to spread my skin open with your bare heart.  

strength is defined by pride and how many calls you can ignore and how many messages you can dismiss,

instead of picking up that phone, being the first call, the first message to say

sorry.

i’m sorry.

to the love that comes back after it was once lost-

this time, her pieces aren’t being picked up. they aren’t being put back together into human form so you can return back to again when it’s convenient for you.

this time, she’s letting her pieces spread like dandelion seeds from wishes she now knows won’t come true but it’s okay-

this time,

she’s flying.

and this, is how you lose her.

I know I’m small and my hands are shaking. I know sometimes you have to stop my body from breaking. I know some days I am hard to love. I am a fire and no fury. I am a wanderess with nothing to show for it. I am scraped knees and battle scars. A lot of times I have to convince myself that life is worth living. A lot of times I have trouble waking up in the morning. All of the time I have a hard time trusting people. All of the time I have trouble opening up. But I love you. But I love you. But I love you.
—  And I hope that’s enough
"We were all wondering what an 18 charisma looks like"

So my friend and I are playing a very small game with just me and him and the GM. So my friend and I are both playing two characters. He is playing a tough female cleric and a crazy male alchemist, and I am playing a blood thirsty female barbarian and suave male swashbuckler.(with a charisma of 18) So in the beginning of the game our characters wake up in two separate prison cells in nothing but our underwear. The girls in one cell and the guys in another. Outside the prison cell is a crazy lady dressed in a nurse’s outfit torturing a man strapped to the table in front of her. To the other side of the table, is a tray of improvised torture weapons, a rusty fork, a shard of glass, ect. (It’s worth noting that most of these implants lack handles) Anyway, the crazy lady makes the mistake of stepping too close to one of the cells allowing my barbarian to grapple her against the metal bars whilst the cleric collects the prison keys from her and frees the boys. The swashbuckler swings into immediate action, gliding past the table and towards the tray. He then proceeds to ignore the weapons with pre-existing handles, rip off his underwear, rap it around the shard of glass, and defends the poor defenseless victim, who happens to be at waist level.
GM:…..
GM: Well I guess we were all wondering what an eighteen charisma looks like bellow the belt.