vacant hearts

The Signs as Quotes

Aries“I’m seventeen and I’m crazy. My uncle says the two always go together. When people ask your age, he said, always say seventeen and insane.”

Taurus: “I’ll be more human when I am settled in my snow and silence.”

Gemini: “It’s rare to meet someone with a mind just as beautiful as their face”

Cancer: “The only way of knowing a person is to love them without hope.”

Leo: “Confidence is quiet. Insecurities are loud.”

Virgo: “Sometimes skulls are thick. Sometimes hearts are vacant. Sometimes words don’t work.”

Libra: “Dusk: a blade of honey between our shadows, draining”

Scorpio: “The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.”

Sagittarius: “I’ll live how I want, I’ll die how I please; move aside if you can’t take responsibility for me.”

Capricorn: “I’ve been working so hard that I’m exhausted… I feel I won’t be able to do without a few weeks’ rest, so I’m going off to see the sea.“

Aquarius: “At dawn my soul lives forever, at dusk I bathe in eternity.”

Pisces: “I wish that photographs were physical spaces, like tunnels; that you could crawl inside them and go back.”

I'll See You On The Other Side

Prompt: In a world where reincarnation exists Alexander Hamilton is the only man alive who remembers his past lives. Throughout his over two hindered years of living, and remembering every minute of it he’s never met anyone from his first life. Most importantly, he’s never seen Eliza after lying on his death bed in 1804.

Warnings: death? (I think that’s it, please let me know if I’ve missed anything).

Part 1: first life Disclaimer: I actually got this idea from another blog, unfortunately I can’t remember who so if it’s you let me know so I can give you credit!

“Alexander!” The scream of a distressed wife echoed throughout the almost vacant hospital halls. Alexander’s heart stopped the moment the echo reached his room and bounced on the walls surrounding him.

‘My Eliza’, he thought to himself, a small smile forming on his lips.
“Alexander.” She called again, much weaker, more broken, as she stopped, her eyes on locked on her husband.
“My love,” he began slowly reaching his arm out to her. She ran to his side, immediately occupying the chair at his bedside. She takes his hand in hers, trying her best to fight the urge to hold tightly.

“Alexander…” she began, her voice now weavering as tears welled in her desperate brown eyes. “Please, please don’t leave me.” She begged, looking longingly into her husbands tired eyes. Her hand shook in his, he didn’t have the strength to try and stop it.
“My dear Eliza, tell the children I love them with all of my heart. Tell them I’m sorry for all of the suffering I’ve caused you. Please remember that there is nothing I regret more in this lifetime than causing you pain.” He spoke quietly, weakly, gasping for breath as he finished speaking.

“Alexander no, no don’t speak like this. You can survive this! We can survive this!” She pleaded.
“My love, please say I have your forgiveness.” He begged, his eyes closing slowly.
“No, no, look at me!” She demanded, her voice quivering. His dreary eyes opened, resting on hers. “I forgive you. I forgive, and I love you,” his eyes closed once one more. And before opening them he began speaking.
“Eliza, take your time. I’ll see you on the other side, my god I can’t wait to see you again.” He said with a weak laugh.
“I’m right here Alexander, there’s no need to wait, I’m here I’m-”
“Until then, my love.” He whispered. His breathing slowed, his hand grew limp in hers, and the heart monitor beeped, the subtle sound piercing to her ears, deafening her and she watch the line go flat.

And the shrilling scream she emitted in that moment was a sound that would be burned in every other visitors minds for the rest of their lives. Especially Angelica’s. She ran to her sister, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks, as she kneeled down to embrace Eliza.

“He’s gone.” Eliza sobbed, shaking in Angelica’s arms.
“Shhhhh, I know, I know.” She cooed, her breath catching in her throat. This came naturally to Angelica, consoling her sisters even when she could barely keep herself together. Eliza had been through a lot, and Angelica always made sure that she was the one there to help her through it. This was no exception, despite the fact that Angelica was breaking inside, her heart shattering, her world crashing down. Eliza was all that mattered in that moment and forever.
“You’ll be together again someday.” She reassured her, but neither knew when, or how.
“I know.” Eliza croaked, wiping her tear stained cheeks, and looking at her husbands limp body one last time.

I’ve been hoarding some underused labels for a long time, and I think it’s time to release them. Under the cut are labels that I would consider “underused” since I haven’t seen them or barely seen them. There are definitions attached, written by yours truly, to help you out if you don’t completely understand them. Please like or reblog this if it helped you out or you use one of them! I’d really appreciate that. Otherwise, have fun using them! No credit is needed to be given to me if you use a label from this.

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Dark To Light

Oliver was thinking of that conversation he had with Felicity last year, here in the Bunker.

They had just come back from Ivy Town. Oliver was filled with doubts about returning to the life he thought was behind him. The happiness and love he had shared with Felicity during the five months they were away brought him the kind of peace and contentment he would never thought possible, not after the pain and darkness and brutality his life had been before he started his crusade.

The vacant look in Oliver’s eyes shifted over to Felicity’s empty chair. He remembered telling her about his doubts that day. He tried to explain to her that for him to fight against darkness, he had to become darkness. He told her that he didn’t want to be that person anymore. She leaned into him, and with love in her eyes and in her voice, Felicity told Oliver that he didn’t bring the darkness back from Lian Yu. She also tried to reassure him that he wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

The emptiness of the Bunker, the dark computer screens and lack of activity was a weight pressing down on Oliver. He sat alone in the darkness, a shade of black that almost made him feel at home. And this place was a home for him, a place of friendship and support and love. It was a sanctuary, a haven, a fortress. It gave him a purpose and a hope that he could make a difference, that he could step away from the chaos his life had been before, and not only save himself, but an entire city.

Felicity was wrong. He was alone. It became his new reality ever since that night the Gambit went down. When he washed up on the shores of Lian Yi, Oliver started a journey that led him to the darkness he tried to tell Felicity about. It smothered him, propelled him, and it was out of his control.

Felicity told him he felt a schism inside him. The darkness split him in half—one half was like a drowning, a state of mind that offered him no hope of being found and rescued. The other half was a redemption, a sense that he could struggle to the surface and find survival and strength  and the warm sunshine of a new day.

It was all false. There had never been a schism. It has always been just darkness. Chase showed this to him. He put it in front of Oliver and made it personal. And Oliver breathed life back into it.

He closed his eyes and the darkness of the Bunker deepened.


Everything that made Felicity who she was—what she felt, what she thought, how she loved and cried and fought; all of it wouldn’t have become a part of her if Oliver hadn’t come into her cubicle with his bullet-ridden laptop and changed her life.

She had been trying to move away from this for the past year. She tried to find a reason, any reason ,to let him go.

The only light in the loft was a single candle sitting on the table in front of the couch she sat on. It flickered and danced in her eyes, mesmerizing and giving a her a place to focus. Earlier, Felicity tried to sleep, but when she closed her eyes, the image of Oliver coming back from Chase’s chamber of horrors filled her senses. She saw him standing in front of her, bleeding and scarred, beaten and almost vacant. Her heart  broke, and in that moment, Felicity would have forgotten everything that had separated them, all the pain and heartache and suffering she had gone through. She wanted to go to him and hold him, try to ease his mind and body and soul. She wanted to love him.

Instead, she climbed out of bed, went downstairs and lit a candle. The flame was like another image of Oliver; a single flame surrounded by darkness. It was fragile and small and it would only take a paper thin breath to snuff it out.

Felicity tried to imagine what Oliver had been feeling and thinking as he made his way back to the Bunker last week. Those six days of torture Chase put him through must have brought back all the horrors Oliver experienced on the island and Hong Kong and Russia. He must have felt so alone, finally reaching his decision to quit, to give up everything he had fought and almost died for all these years. In that short week, Chase took from Oliver his purpose and drive, erased the hero he became, leaving only an empty shell. When he told her and John that he didn’t want to make a difference anymore, five years of fighting and loving and saving threatened to drain from Felicity. She stared at his wounds and felt afraid.

Felicity pulled the green blanket she had wrapped herself in tighter around her body.

What happened to Oliver was a visual incarnation of some of the stuff he must have gone through those five years he was away, but he rarely, if at all, ever talked about them. When he came back last week, Oliver looked like a small boy, afraid and lonely and needing a voice, a touch, a smile. He didn’t want to play anymore. Felicity, (and she knew John was thinking the same thing) wanted to protect Oliver like he protected both of them so many times. John was angry at Oliver for wanting to go back to being Mayor and having to interact with Chase again. It was a sham and the absolute worst thing Oliver could have done. Every time Oliver went to his office, it was him admitting defeat, and both she and John had never seen that from him. Oliver was drifting away in that defeat, and it scared them.

Felicity leaned forward and blew the candle out. No, she thought. Oliver needed his family. He needed a reason, a reminder that he was loved and cared about. He needed strength. He would do the same for her if the roles were reversed.

Felicity got off the couch, got dressed and found her way through the darkness of the loft and out into the night. Oliver was worth saving. She was not going to let him fade away.


When the lights came on, Oliver blinked and looked around the suddenly illuminated Bunker. The brightness confused him at first, and he had a sudden image of Chase coming back into the room he held Oliver in, coming back to bring more pain and regret and acknowledgement of Oliver’s past. Oliver began to feel afraid again.

Then he looked up from his chair, and Felicity was there.

“Oliver,” she softly spoke to him. “I need…I need to talk to you.” She hesitated and looked into his eyes. Again, she could see the vacancy in them. It felt like she was looking at a stranger, not at the man she knew and cared about and loved. “Oliver…”

“Felicity, what are you doing here?” His voice was dulled by his recent memories. “It’s…it’s late.”

Felicity went over and grabbed her chair away from her station and rolled it next to Oliver. “I told you, I need to talk to you. I want…to see if you’re okay.”

Oliver shook his head. “Felicity, I don’t’ think…I really don’t want to talk right now. And I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

First anger, then grief and fear went through Felicity as Oliver brushed off her concern for his well-being. She hesitated again in her determination to reach him.

“Felicity,” he spoke again. “You should go home. I don’t want to make you upset or angry.”

“Oliver, you’re not making me angry. And I couldn’t sleep. I was hoping you would be here. I thought you might be with Susan…and I almost…”

Oliver shook his head again. “There is…there is no more Susan.” He looked at Felicity and a small tear rolled out of his eyes and down his cheek. “I told her…I told her it wasn’t safe for her to be with me anymore.”

In spite of his anguish, Felicity felt a brief moment of relief at this news. She had to fight against the smile that threatened to break out on her face. “Oliver,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you felt that you had to let her go.”

Oliver just stared back at her and said nothing.

“Uh…are you sure it was the right thing to do?” Felicity asked him.

Oliver sighed. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. It might not have been the right thing, but it was…it was necessary.”

This time, it was Felicity who stared back and had nothing to say.

“Felicity,” Oliver suddenly said to her, completely changing the subject. “Do you remember when you told me that I didn’t bring the darkness back with me from Lian Yu? That I wasn’t alone anymore?”

Felicity shook her head, confused. “No,” she responded. “I’m not…” Then she remembered. “Oh yeah. It was after we came back from Ivy Town.”

Oliver nodded. “Right. I think you were trying to reassure me that we made the right decision coming back.” He looked deeply into her eyes, almost pleading with her. “But Felicity, you were wrong. I did bring it back. I brought it back and infected everybody with it. And you were also wrong about me being alone anymore. I am always going to be alone.”

Felicity felt her own tears start to fall.

Pain filled Oliver’s voice as he went on. “I’ve done things…horrible things that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to…”

“Oliver, I love you,” Felicity blurted out.

Oliver looked at her. “I don’t think that matters anymore,” he told her. “I don’t deserve you loving me.”

Felicity was openly crying now. “Oliver, I don’t know what Chase did to you, what he said to you—but I know you. I changed…you changed my life because you showed me what’s possible when someone believes in a person. You believed in me, Oliver. And I believe…still believe in you. Please don’t shut me out. Don’t leave me.”

A brief recognition began to shine in Oliver’s eyes. He started to reach out his hand—then he pulled it back.


Then Oliver seemed to sigh with resignation. “Felicity,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I could survive…if anything happened to you…to John, or the rest of everyone.”

“Oliver, nothing’s going to happen. And you didn’t…it doesn’t matter to me if you think me loving you doesn’t matter to you.”

Another glimmer of acknowledgement filled his eyes. “I…Felicity, I need to tell you some things, some things that might change your mind about loving me.”

Felicity didn’t want to say anything that would break this delicate moment that was about to happen. So she sat still and silent, and waited for Oliver to let her in.

“When I was in Russia,” he began. “There was a man…a man I skinned alive…”

@hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @louiseblue1 @swordandarrow @tdgal1 @dmichellewrites @jamyjan @marytagus @buffaleen @ruwithmeguys

@ibelievenu @sweetzcupcake @joverwatch @smkkbert

gun shot wounds and heroin overdoses
because everything hurts too much
or nothing hurts at all

they crack jokes at their expense
plotting their next move
as soon as they’re released

slit wrists and empty pill bottles
because the tears wouldn’t stop
drowning under their weeping hearts

vacant stares, flat affect
nobody is home
pitstop on their way to the grave


“You must realize, my dear child that not everyone in the world is like you. There are those who walk among us, who have no heart. They may look like you and me, but where their heart should be, is only a rusted-out, vacant hole, rimmed by ragged iron teeth.”

When You’re Gone

Pairing: George Washington x Reader

Word Count: 1872

Warnings: Kidnapping mention

Summary: When you are visiting your family, some jerk decides to tell George you were kidnapped and he believes it.

It had been a long time since he had seen you.

The war was dragging on and on, and he was only able to come home to you every few months.

Falling in love had been the easy part. He had always been the romantic type. You couldn’t count the number of times he had surprised you with flowers, which he had picked himself, or a picnic in the park under the stars.

He would do anything for you.

It had been four months since you had seen him last. This post was the longest yet and you were lonely.

The days were long and the nights even longer, the empty space where he should be weighed heavy on your heart.

The last letter he sent was vague on if he would be returning anytime soon. He had many words about a particular General who had completely ruined a battle in Monmouth.

He had no words of home or his return and his frustration was evident in the words. He had half-heartedly thrown words of love in at the very end and it was signed with just his last name, not the usual “Yours Truly, George” that graced the parchment.

You were lost at what to do. Being in this empty home had been getting to you these last few weeks and you really needed to be with family, even if it was only for a short time.

You missed George more than words could ever try to explain and the his place in your heart was vacant. Not only because he was not with you, but because you never knew if he was safe. Was he eating? Sleeping? You knew how he got when it became overwhelming. The man was stubborn and he will do anything to help others, even if that meant putting off his own well-being.

As you sat at the table reading his letter over again, the tears fell relentlessly.

You wish he wasn’t the General. Although you knew very well they all needed him, you selfishly needed him too.

You crumple the letter and throw it to the corner of his study. You always felt so close to him in here. His handwriting was everywhere and the desk was in the same disarray as it was when he left months ago.
You decide it is time to go. You needed to be with people who understood your longing and who could make the hole seem smaller while you awaited his return.

You decide not to pack anything, your parent’s home still stocked with clothes from when you visited the times before, and the only piece you really needed to bring from home was the present George had given to you after a few months of courting.

It was a necklace, but it was unlike anything you had ever seen. That was because he had made it himself.

You still remember how much he blushed and kept saying it looked stupid and ugly, he had even tried to take it back after showing it to you. You had only laughed and kissed his lips. It was beautiful.

Sure it was kind of short and the chain had an uneven texture, but he had made it himself, and whenever you wore it or mentioned it the smile he beamed in return was enough to make it your favorite piece of jewelry.

Now as you pull it out you are flooded with more emotion. Anger creeps up and bubbles. Before you can understand what is happening you throw the necklace at the wall.

You regret it immediately and check to see if it has broken from the impact and are relieved when it is still in one piece.

You leave it there nonetheless, your heart beating furiously as you open the door and head toward your parents’ home at the opposite end of the city.


George was utterly exhausted.

The days were beginning to blur together and he was ready to be home.

He had been awake for too long and it was clear it was getting to him. He had completely lost it with Alexander earlier in the day, snapping at him to go home to his wife, who had just happened to be pregnant. He couldn’t wait to hear from him when he arrived home only to learn he had known for the last month.

He sighed as he stared at the tent wall.

He wanted to be home. Y/N was home.

He had been so caught up in the happenings of the last battle that he hadn’t been thinking straight when he wrote his last letter. He couldn’t stop the messenger in time and now he was staring at a blank piece of parchment trying to come up with some form of apology.

He just wanted to be with Y/N and make it up to her in person.

Another hour of staring and he was interrupted.
Apparently Charles Lee was stirring up some commotion outside the camp.

When George arrived Lee was being held by two calvary men.

“I told them I just wanted to speak to you!” He struggles against their hold.

“Calm down Mr. Lee, what is it you needed to speak to me about?” George ushered the soldiers to release him.

“It’s about Y/N.” George’s attention was now fully on him.

“What about her?”

“She has been taken.”  he replies in a flat tone.

George can only hear his heartbeat. It had increased to an unhealthy pace and he cannot breathe.

“Who!?” Lee is taken aback at the sudden raise in his voice and does;t answer.

George advances and grabs the man’s shoulders.

“Who took her!?”

“Th-the B-british?” He sputters out.

George misses the phrase being formed as a question and runs towards the horses.

His men try to stop him and Lafayette has even tried to get him to dismount the horse.

“She is my love. I am going to get her.”

“I understand, sir. But this is not the best way. We can send some men to investigate and…” The General cuts him off.

“No, I am going to get my love, no one else.” He rides off without another word.

When he finally arrives at home a day later, it is empty.

His heart stops when he finds his latest letter crumpled in a corner and in their bedroom the necklace he made for her was carelessly thrown near the legs of the dresser.

He hurries back downstairs to search for anything else that may help him. Everything seemed to have been recently used and even a pot in the kitchen was left unwashed. She had just been here.

He takes a moment to to grasp the wall and let out a long sob. She had been taken.

Who would take her? The British didn’t know his home address. No one did, only Alexander. But he wouldn’t have had anything to do with this, he knew this for a fact. Alexander held him in the highest regard as he did in return to the expressive right hand man.

He was going out of his mind.

The last thing he had said to her was how upset he was. He was sure he didn’t even say “I love you” in the letter at all.

If he had been taken because he was a general he would get her back and quit. Country be damned.

He prayed she was alright. Whoever had her better be treating her fine because when he finds her, if she has been harmed in anyway, the kidnapper would be begging for death.

He runs back out of the home and to the horse. He wonders if he should tell her parents. They had a right know just as much as he did. They loved her endlessly too.

He decided to ride for their home.


It had been two days since you had been home and even though it was a relief to be around family, you missed all the George influences that you had around every corner.

You were sitting in the living room and there is a frantic knock at the door. You went to stand but see your mother has gone to answer it herself, so you snuggle back into your book reading position.

The door opens and you can hear someone huffing, out of breath and slightly yelling. Whoever it was was wildly out of sorts. Your mother’s reply is quick and reassuring.

Then the door is closed and footsteps are nearing.

When you glance up from your book, George is in front of you.

He dissolved look almost make you laugh. He has lost his General hat, his coat is frayed and caked with dirt, and his face is a mess of tears and snot.

You give him a confused look.

“George? George! Are you alright?” You jump up and drop the book losing your place and the blanket falls off of you.

He smiles through the tears and sniffs loudly before coming to right next to you and grabbing the back of your head into a hard, desperate hug.

“What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” He doesn’t speak, only continues to hold you. New tears hit your shoulder.

“I thought you were gone.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Gone? I left the house only a few days ago.” He laughs and moves to take your face in his hands.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“Someone told me you had been kidnapped. When I arrived home it seemed as if it were true. You were not there and your necklace was on the ground and I- I didn’t know what to do.”

He chokes on his words and you grab his hand from your face.

“You thought I had been taken so you completely abandoned the war and came to find me?” He nods and you can’t help but kiss him multiple times.

“You are sure you are ok? Why are you here at your parents’ home?” He was suddenly concerned yet again.

“I just needed to be around some other people. I wasn’t thinking when I left, I was upset. I’m sorry about the necklace.”

He just shakes his head.

“No I’m sorry the last letter was..less than perfect. I’m just so glad you are alright.”

He takes a seat on the couch with you before explaining more about the situation.

He fumes when he mentions Charles Lee, the man that had caused the frustration in the previous battle, was the one who had told him you had been taken.

George goes into a long rant of how he was going to talk to Lee privately about lying to a man about his wife but before he can get completely heated you steal his lips mid-sentence.

“I’m so glad I get to see you.” You say after pulling away.

He smiles and grabs your hand in his.

“I’ll stay for a few more days. Lee can wait.”

You chuckle and bring him in for a longer kiss.

After all, you would take every moment you had him because you never knew when it could be the last.


(A/N: We are SO sorry it has been quiet on here. I am still not well and we are both full time college students which takes up a lot of time. Thank you to everyone following us! We love you!)

One day, I realized he might not exist. My soulmate, I mean.

I realized there might not be someone walking around this earth just waiting to meet me. Someone with a private world just as intricate as mine that, one day, I would get to share and be a part of and know.

And I realized I was keeping a vacant spot in my heart for this person who might not exist. That I wasn’t allowing myself to be whole because how could I be whole with my other half missing?

It was an excuse, of course. A simple view of life that would exempt me from having to put in the effort of filling myself up with the love I was waiting for someone else to supply.

The reality is this: Life is a churning, chaotic thing with no guarantees, and in the throes of the tumbling you might run into people to hold on to for a while. Sometimes for a night, sometimes for life.

And holding on to someone is a worthy thing. A wonderful thing. Something to look forward to and appreciate and embrace with your whole heart.

But the love you get from holding on to someone will never be as reliable as the love you can give yourself. Right here. Right now.

So here’s my advice. Be open to love, but don’t be empty for it.

—  Open, Not Empty - John Paul Brammer

( aneurin barnard, 29, he/him ) silence! can you not see his majesty, friedrich konrad luxemburg, has arrived? It seems the prince of germany is willing to compromise for peace, which is surprising when everyone calls them the vacant heart. have you tried approaching them? i heard they can be rather bitter + distant, but their staff say that they’re valiant + charismatic.

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Once Upon A Dream- Part 8

Characters - Bucky x Stark!Reader (Only reader in this part)

Word Count - 1273

Warnings - idk man..this one is dark, Language

Beta - @bionic-buckyb

A/N - This is a totally different writing style than what I normally do. It’s written from the reader’s POV. The next part will return back to my normal writing style.

OUAD Masterlist

Originally posted by blackinjustice

Originally posted by kickassmovie

Bucky told me to use this journal to write down everything that I can remember. He told me to include everything; the good, the bad - the whole story. I can already feel my hands starting to shake but this is something that I have to do.

I remember everything.

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My vacant heart
How is it that you split in two parts
I’m checking in to reminisce
A roller coaster ride in the dark
To places I don’t want to go

Parachutes to break my fall
Tangled up in deeper thought
Makes falling faster
I’m falling faster

I found you inside of a dream
Spinning in circles magically
Took a picture of your eyes
So I could find my empty mind

I have written about you so many times.
I have used so many words
Putting them one after the other
On blank sheets of paper
Neatly, hoping their clarity would
Persuade you to come back to me.
I have used so many words,
Yet all of them together could never
Amount to what these few last ones
Will say. I am writing to say goodbye.
Not to you, you already left a long time ago.
I am saying goodbye to the person
I believed you could have been.
I am saying goodbye to the armour I built
For you. Shielded by my lying hopes,
Tucked in there you faced no threat.
But with your detachment and negligence
My armour for you grew thinner and thinner
And when I once opened it to check on you
I found no trace of the noble knight I was expecting.
I now must let go of all of that iron.
Of the unnecessary weight I was carrying for
The both of us. These are my parting words
I hope they will reach you no matter how deaf
You’ve been willing yourself to be.

The feeling that it is not going to be me and you
In the end has hit me many times before
But never with such neatness, never with
So much elegance and clarity.
There is a strange pleasure in making
Wrinkled things smooth. In scrubbing a dirty plate
Until all the food stains are gone.
I am putting you away, folding you neatly
Like my favourite shirt. The one I always
Look at when I open my wardrobe
In the morning and have to talk myself out
Of wearing because I know it no longer
Looks good on my skin. I’ll grow out of it
Someday and the same will happen with you.
There will come a morning when
My first thought is not going to be you
And how my entire being trembled under your gaze.

I can count on my fingertips the number of days
We spent together, yet those moments meant
So much to me. Everything that we did not have
Time to experience, I had already lived it in my mind
Waiting for the moment when it would become true.
It never did, in the end, and that is probably
What pains me the most. Together, we could’ve been
So many things. Entire days spent in museums
Skipping over dozens of paintings and then
Spending ages in front of one in silence,
Only your arm wrapped around my waist.
Picnics in St James’ to chase the squirrels and
Feed the ducks. I would’ve been wearing
A red hat and you your dark green coat.
How funny we would’ve looked, sitting close
On a bench, with an open box of chips on my lap.
We never had time for days like that but
There were other moments when you made me
Feel so special that I thought I’d never have to face
Life by myself again. But soon enough I became
The old toy, whose dishevelled hair and ragged dress
You could not bring yourself to pity.
For a long time I wondered what I had to be like
In order for you to love me for real. Perhaps I could’ve
Learned to paint or how to play the piano.
Then she came along and she brought the answer
With her. I now look at her and know exactly what
Is missing in me. Why I never had a chance with you.

I have talked myself into a state of such misery
That not even you taking me back would make me
Whole again. You ripped me in pieces so small
I am not sure why people are not picking them up
Off the pavement. I seek comfort in anything
Even in the raging weather, because it means
That someone else out there is angry, too.
I am all shrivelled up, withering away
Yet I am still here and I’d rather lose my voce
Forever than crying out your name again.
Do not beg for Love. Do not insist.
Love is attentive, Love is careful.
It knows when to insist, when to dare.
And when it is best to let it go.
For far too long I tried to convince Love that
I knew better and now I’ll never extinguish
The price I have to pay for my temerity.

It will take me a long time to unknown you
Because the tenderness that I feel for you
Is infinite but I am so tired of trying
To convince you that I am special enough.
That I am worth your time and affection.
There is so much self-love and respect in
Walking away from what threatens to annihilate you.
I will always remember you, how everything
Went quiet in my head the first time you said my name.
But I am holding on to something you never meant
To give me and it is about time I give it back to you.
Keep it, throw it away. It does not matter.
I cannot keep carrying it, nestled in my chest
And let it poison what little good is still there.
I don’t know what I’ll be doing with my vacant
Heart when it will no longer be telling me tales
About you. What’s for sure is that it is going to be
Fully mine. Mine like it hadn’t been in months.

I don’t want to keep waiting for you.
I don’t want to keep hoping in vain.
I want my colours to be enough
And with them light up the way to a place
Where I am no longer your prisoner
But my own guardian angel.

—  M.B, Strangers since Yesterday.

This is my girlfriend @vacant-heart-open-mind, everybody. I couldn’t help taking a picture of her when she wasn’t looking…just look at her. I’m so lucky to call her my partner.

You know you can’t have her. She’s not yours to have. But she fascinates you. I think it’s because she knows her worth. She knows she is beautiful, she knows her smile lights up rooms. She knows she can make you fall in love. You want a girl you can’t have, and that will kill you. She’s the girl you read poems about, the girl who will set you on fire to keep herself warm, yet you won’t mind. She is the poison in your blood; she will stop your heart. This girl seems to have everything, yet she hasn’t got something that you have, she doesn’t love herself. She has no hope. But you will love her anyway in spite of everything she will put you through. She is your downfall, your greatest destruction. Her hearts vacant and your ‘I love yous’ don’t work because sometimes loves not enough and words don’t work. And there’s no way you can turn a tragedy like her into poetry.
—  Perhaps the most tragic fate of all, to commit sins for love, for good, for God. And to be punished for it.//t.c