Reblogged from smile-in-blog
I like it better
Alone
In my mind
It’s quiet
Without you
But my ears are still ringing
The echo is still audible
Reverberating beyond my
Reality
I sense you
But it’s feint
I’m so focused on its
Tune, I’m becoming blind
I think you may have left me where
I like it better,
Here
In my mind
(via wordsnquotes)
There is no gentle
good night when you are not by
my side/ on my mind.I am addicted
to the pain of wanting what
we will never be.You’re a gentle death–
to my lips, to softest kiss,
I did not want this.
Do not be deceived
I wanted this all along
The harshest freedom
(via stargazerinmoksha)
Please do not be your child’s first encounter with their sexuality. Taboo? Think again. The moment you discourage a sexual thought or shame them for being a sexual creature- you are a sexual attacker. You are telling them to go against their nature and they will forever be reminded of you within their sexuality, next to the first person that shows them sex is okay. Wouldn’t you rather that they think of THEMSELVES rather than that first sexual partner or you? Taboo indeed.
I came across a piece of paper with your signature, some memories look better written out rather than felt everyday. You’re the block I’ve been writing over, you’re the heart I’ve been holding onto. I came across a piece of paper with your favorite words, you used to say that love means we’ll always be together. You’re something I’ve been waking up to, going back to sleep means I’ll hold you for just a little longer. I came across a piece of paper with your favorite scenery, maybe I drew something I’ve forgotten. I draw flowers where people should be, people may break you, but flowers only grow where people should. I came across a piece of you inside of my spine and I’ve been feeling your thoughts all over mine.
My crumbled heart will read what you meant to me, my crumbled heart will be just fine.
Ripped journals (via poetryleftbyher)I fell in love for the first time
You found me
I know the exact moment
Strangers to the manipulation of the air vibrating the cords in our necks
Ears silent upon hearts
Deaf to sight
I was beckoned
Deep within your mind
Your eyes yet to touch
I felt within me every life
Awaken and blinking into reality
I was high
Too high
I’m sorry
So careless with your heart
Ours
We’d combined them
And poured them into our bellies
Consumed all too quickly
Our love was poisonous
Addicting
Perfectly terrifying
But the hangover has made me stronger somehow
I know now how to carry the heart
Rather than eat it
Write me into your favorite story -
I want to die beside words you
love & show me your favorite
sights - I want to kiss pieces of
your heart into the definition of
beauty; you never understood
how someone could be made
of only broken things until you
love someone made of pieces
of who they want to be, we may
have fallen out of love, but love
never fell out of us, so tonight
darling, I need youcloser than skin
X
I’m in denial
The things that I do don’t affect people
Well they do
Just not favorably
And when this happens
I deny it again
Even after
They’ve left
They couldn’t have possibly left
They couldn’t possibly not still
Feel
People stopped seeing the light in me
Said they liked the way the darkness looked on me
So I decided to wear it
“You don’t talk to me anymore.”
She tries to say that I’ve been lying about everything– I’ve promised to keep promises as something worth being honest about, but I can barely breathe when it comes to me, so I guess my apology would just mean nothing.
So I chose to say nothing.
I read a famous quote that says,
sometimes no message is a message.
I’ve been telling myself that there’s no other way, but in truth, you can’t fix something that was already too broken from the start.
So I tell myself something flawed.
So I tell myself another lie.
So I tell myself not to cry.
So I tell myself something you wanted to hear.
So I tell myself something you won’t hear.
So I write myself into every line
because damn it, we were too far gone.
We weren’t going to make it.
We never were, I see that now.
So I tell myself that I’m sorry for who you thought I was, I’m sorry for who you thought I could be, and I’m sorry for how I should’ve been from the start. I tell myself into misery.
Some stories don’t end with just another goodbye, some stories end in silence.
“I saw this coming before you did.”
So I tell myself another lie to live with.
So to speak (via poetryleftbyher)
I wish you felt this way, X, as I do. I also have hope for relief one day. I will place myself where belong.
