these feelings should be finiteI'm terrified and I know there's nothing unique about this, but I'm standing here completely out of touch with the rest of the world, realizing for the first time that we all feel things a little bit differently, which is why this doesn't hurt for you at all. I figure the only logical reason for how you could do this as if it means nothing was if it really did mean nothing at all for you. It's easier to hate you this way. It's easier to forget you without the burn of your kiss against my skin. It's easier to stay mad if I don't have to remember the way that it felt. Most of all, I can forget this as if it's a memory in someone else's lifetime if I accept the fact that we're all different. I can be different like you. I can let this mean nothing.I could mean nothing if you let me. If I let me.You talk in big words that I get sick of hearing after awhile with big ideas and wide eyes and a small heart. I once heard that you can only love something so hard, for so long, before the feelin
I hope it's worth it when I'm gone.I can't even pretend things are simple anymore.It's raining again, and with every crash of thunder, I miss you more than I can bear. I know it's not worth saying, because really nothing much is anymore, but it doesn't make it any less true.It's eleven ten on a Friday night, and I'm sitting in the middle of the grass, watching the downpour spill off the roof. My t-shirt is clinging to my ribcage, and my hair is sticking to my face. I can feel the water running down the ridges of my spine, the backs of my hands, clumping in my eyelashes, but still, I don't move. Sometimes, when I can't stand what the world is doing anymore, I allow myself a thunderstorm to wash everything away.It's the meteorological equivalent to a clean break. Faster to heal -- or at least, that's what they say.The lightning is tearing across the sky, cutting through the darkness like a crack in the atmospheric layers. I'm staring at this like I half expect all the air to disappear around me while the world disinte
winter always reminds me of you.It never snowed last December, but it was always there on the horizon. Like a bad dream on the periphery of my vision, a relentless reminder that I don't ever have control over things the way I think I do. The way I want to. Recently, I realized that I feel everything a bit too sharply. The cold. The pain. The nothingness.It's heart wrenching. It's stomach twisting.The minute you were gone, the air in my lungs left too. It's amazing how long you can live without breathing. It's much longer than anyone tends to claim. Truthfully, it's not even the thing I miss anymore. I only miss you. I miss the feelings. I miss anything that isn't the slow crack and settle of this old building. Or the familiar beating of my heart. The sun rising and falling from the sky each and every day.I don't remember what it's like to not wake up to a pattern, but I do remember that it was so much better than this.I used to never know what to expect. Now I have no expectations at all. It didn't take me long t
this isn't progress, because you're irreversible.You were never meant for me.I knew it in the most obvious manner. It was in the way you had a subtle sort of comfort in your own skin a quiet and humble confidence while I struggled to make sense of the prints on my fingertips and the way one of my eyes crinkled in the corner more than the other when I smiled. You felt safe with yourself while I was always warring with my own reflection. Half the time, I didn't know who I was. A quarter of the time, I still don't. You would call this progress if you were here to see, but I just call it sad.When you miss something for long enough, you start to forget the exact way that things happened. Or the exact way they happened to fall apart. For instance, I don't remember the first time you didn't call, but I do remember when you told me you loved me but not enough. It's never enough, is it? The point is you were gone before I could even say goodbye. You were gone before you were ever really here, but somehow I let myself bu
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen
i'll keep you like a secret.There are a lot of things I can't tell you.Not because I'm keeping secrets locked behind my teeth or because I'm afraid I'll say something you don't want to hear. This isn't like the last time or the time before. It's simply because I'll never have the exact right words to explain all the ways you make my heart rise and expand and skip a beat.There aren't enough words to describe how quickly the blood rushes through my veins when we kiss and I'm on tiptoes to reach your lips and your hand is cupping my face, brushing your thumb across my cheekbone and I feel completely at home.And they haven't even invented a way to portray how I feel when we're driving too fast in the streets of our hometown, and how I can get lost somewhere that is so damn familiar because I have the chance to explore it with someone new someone like you and you're singing along with the radio, letting me fall asleep in the passenger seat, because you and I are enough, and we don't need words to fill
if you're an ocean, then i'm drowning.You are a calculated mistake something that I've known is wrong from the very start. And I wake up next to you every morning lately, praying that your split lips don't sink me even though I know it's too late.You're already taking me under, because, baby you're heavy like hurricane. Like a thousand drops of rain pounding down on my shoulder blades. You're seeping into my skin and into my bloodstream. It's only a matter of time until you spread to my heart.It's too late. I'm already drowning in you.It's too late, but god, I cannot love you.You're like the last boy I kissed which means I should already be working on forgetting the exact way your fingertips press into my hipbones or how my name sounds curled up in your mouth and the way you like to speak it so careful like a secret like if you said it too loud, I could get away from you. Like you want to keep me. But mostly I should forget you.And sometimes, I try, but right now, I'm calculating the
the last sentence I started like thisI wonder if you're still breathingin the same pattern that you used toand if your life just picked upas it was before in a way thatmakes me insignificantand meaningless.I wonder if there's someone new if she speaks in complete sentencesand means itwhen she saysshe loves you.I wonder if you're doing betterand if you'll get it right this time.I wonder,but I don't really care.That's the differencebetween now and before,because beforeI couldn't forget youand now,I barely remember you.
we don't sound like a whisper.The sun never sets over the water, but you still take me there whenever dusk comes to meet the horizon. We sit out on the rocks with me tucked tight against your chest, while you count stars like other people count blessings, but we're only half lucky with all these city lights ruining your chances. I know you're tired, love, but I'm terrified. I'm running out of ways to stop myself from telling you I miss you because twenty four hours isn't a long time to be separated and I'm really just more afraid of what you're doing when I'm not there -- and of what you're thinking when I am. I've been burnt enough times before to learn that loving with only half your heart will save you from the fire, but I know that's not what I'm doing here. I don't want you to be a mistake worth making. I want this to be real this time.I keep playing out all the ways you could hurt me in my head, not because I think you will, but because it'll sting less if it actually happens. I've learned to prepare myself
i'm telling myself not to get my hopes up.It's been a long time since I felt like this.It's all small kicks of my heartbeatand subtle smiles when no one's looking.I'm checking my phone messagesmore times than any girl should,but you're not letting me down.You remind me of a time when things were easybefore I memorized what sadness felt likeand stopped feeling alive.And for the first time, I don't feel brokenin a way that can't be fixed.I don't feel like I was built in a waythat doesn't fit.
you're a series of unconnected thoughtssometimes i wonderif it's really true--if history really does justrepeat& repeat& repeat.and now we're stuck in its loop whereyou're holding everything backand i'm holding everything in.and there's nothing to do,but hope for the bestor at least something better.but for now, i just wonderif there's anyone elsewho misses quite as muchas i do.it's never enough to remember,but it's always too muchto forget.
I collect bad decisions.I don't miss it anymore.These last few weeks we've learned more about ourselves than we ever hoped to know. We've met the monsters that live under our skin and make our old lives seem distant like memories. Like someone we used to know once upon a time and half forgot. An uncomfortable reminder that the people we've become aren't necessarily the best people we could be.But, darling, we get by.You used to always tell me that talk was cheap. Or worthless, even. You told me just because I was still speaking to you didn't mean I was saying a damn thing worth hearing. I mean after all, if you can't say it in a 160 characters, it's not worth saying, baby. I thought you were something special. I was wrong.You were just like someone I used to know. A long, long time ago.I grew up with all of your bad intentions. I grew up wondering who I would be if I never met you. Because for certain, knowing you has changed me more than I'd like to admit. More than I would have ever wanted. I'm not the
please let me get what i want.For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone.For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you.It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you're standing face to face and in one swift breath, you remember it all.You remember everything.The sky is always biggest right before it rains. That's how I learned to always couple disappointment with expectations since no matter how beautiful something seems, a disaster is always right on the horizon.The waves are crashing quickly on the shoreli
these oceanic arteries are killing me. (collab)i'm drawn to the ocean in a way that's anything but beautiful. i don't want a welcome embrace, i just want it to consume me. 'cause the ocean is so heavy and right now i'm so fucking fragile.so i'll stand waist deep with the water curling tightly around me, lulling me further from the shore with the safe sung whispers of the wind as i let the waves crash into me. so that with each ebb and flow, piece by piece, the ocean can wash me away from you.i can see myself crumbling away like the cliffs that surround the peaceful waters, and i wonder if you're as fragile as i am right now. my breathing patterns have changed, as i don't want to be anything like you at all ever again.it's not anything i'm proud of -- the way our worlds shifted and turned and collided to make the currents wash up on these shores with each of us standing at opposite ends of this expanse of water with no hope, no reason, no love, but it's the way things turned out. and now i should know better than to change everyt
i'm never careful enoughThe roads here wind in ways that I don't expect.Sometimes, I think that dashed yellow line is the only thing that keeps me moving the right way. That keeps me going. Because one wrong move could send me barreling off the highway and the freefall feeling that would come next is not something I'm unfamiliar with. It's the same thing that happens every time I think of you. I can't get over how much this place reminds me of you. I can't get over how little room there is between full-fledged fear and being in love.Sometimes, I think maybe they're the same thing.I don't know what keeps bringing me back here. But I find myself coming here more and more when I can't sleep. When I can't stop thinking about you. I drive the same familiar routes. Thinking the same familiar thoughts. Going to the same familiar places. I keep retracing the paths we used to take, thinking that if I follow them back far enough, I'll figure out where we went wrong. The absence of you is familiar. Almost comforting.
it's a quick drive to where we live.I know you don't believe in beautiful things. In fact, I know you don't believe in much of anything. I swear that's okay, because what I'm asking of you isn't meant to be built on blind faith it isn't meant to be a split second decision. I'll give you the time you need.Everything is brighter from the passenger seat of your old four door sedan with the black paint chipping off the front bumper, rust eating through the edges and corners of the doors. I've never seen so many shades and tints of green as I have curving around the sides of these country roads with you too fast, too slow, too here then gone. When you drive fast enough, the entire world disappears. It took us a weekend and all of Wisconsin, and you still won't tell me where we're going. It's okay though. You could be my home.Lake Superior always comes in cold. The water laps at your ankles, freezing your skin, sending a quick chill through your bones. It reminds me of you with your too cold fingertips against
i can't see what's real.the problem is to me nothing is ever going to be as beautiful as you.i feel like i'm going blind.this would scare me except i know it's just that the whole world has dimmed down a few shades since i last saw you. and my eyesight will never adjust again because now all i do is look for you everywhere i go, even though i know you're miles away, because all i want is to see you smile again. even if it's the last thing i do.i want to see your face because i've gotten so used to seeing no one at all. it's too empty here. i hear his name and voice, feel his fingers on my skin and his breath against my cheek, but i don't see him. maybe he sees a silly quiet girl with dull eyes and a silent smile that he wants to get to know, but all i see is 600 miles stretched beneath the tips of my fingers that i will never again cross and the person who lives there that i will never get to see and the lonely fact that i know where my heart is.and it is not here.it's there with you.i'll never get it b
sometimes all you really need is for someone toi was loved; it was enough.
wasting usi want you, oki want you to be on your kneesall scraped and red and rawlike you're a child againbecause that's all you everwerei want you to be achingthe way i've been achingsince the last rays of summersaid goodbye to us,goodbye to usand i want you to never forgetthat just becauseyou don't remember my birthday,that doesn't meanyou'll ever,everforget the feel of my skinon yoursfor the first timeand that somedaythis memory will stop hurting.it never will,and i promise you this:every time it crosses your mind-while you wait at the bus stop,during a chemistry exam,the next time a girl touches youwith her heart and not just her fingers-every time it crosses your mind,you're going to remember mein extraordinary detailand see melike the extraordinary personthat i am,withor withoutyou.
learning to forget how to readi hate it a littlewith my bottom lippulled between your teethit's like moonlight,the only light by whichi really see youi don't know how to think(about you, anything, this)and everything you dois balanced on a scale,waiting for so much as a breathto knock it from its centre(if you don't ask meto come over, if yougreet me with a televisionor hands in my jeans, ifyou wait for me before ileave you in the morning, ifyou kiss me upon awakeningor sleeping or as i driftbetween the boundaries ofhere and with you,)i am just caught in the tidesthe ebb and the flowas i fail continuallyto understandthat i am more to youthan just a bodyto hold onto at nightand without knowing youtoo much past your bodyand copy shops,i am afraid to so much asthink of thismyself(the fear is sharp,yet i know betterthan to lie)
the quiet things that no one ever knowsi hope you know i'm nothing.
schadenfreudei found lovein your bone structure,troublingly beautifulwith your soul worn across your lips.you remind me of the sunshinei lost in the circlesi left behindto find someone an oceanless far.instead,i am here,watching the birds take flightfrom the edges of your mouth,watching their wings curlwith every wordstrained with an accentowned by my ancestorsborn on ships.i want you to tell me againabout the timesyou found a purity in his eyes,the blank skin upon whichthey were set like jewelsand those whenyou grinned cheekilywhen i told you howterribly beautifulyou really were.i find myself wishing,which brings paperweightsto my ankles as iswim the seas,that the water in whichi am sinkingwould part for the benefitof my heart;that your contagionwould not touch me;that,instead,you would.
what was once our home is now our horror.when i'm not talking to youi feel like vomiting,walking behind a boywho wore the same cologneas you.i can't cancel us-we aren't a subscription-before we have beenworn throughlike soles ofold shoes.and i think youknow that,too.the silence,as heavy as it is,is nothingcompared to the weightof our hearts.i don't knowif we'll everlet this go;but before we're done,i need youto look at mefull on,the way you woulda mirror,and not a naked girlundressing in frontof youfor the last time.
bird songi told myself i'd never compare the two of youbut his eyes are so much brighterif we still talked i'd tell you, i'm happy now,in the saddest of ways but i am happy now,i would say, momentarily, warily,but somehow i would. just don't you tell me, you're happy too.
i don't have the heart to call it summer lovewe drank sparkling waterwith the sun stripping us downto our barest elements.we were the wind,two hearts in the air,unanchored and set at sea.you would wear your hatloosely like a ribbonof air on the top of your head,and smile with your whole face;you would imagine what i looked likein only my underwearuntil the next hour when yourcuriousity eased,your hands becoming excavationshovels, revelling in discovery-i had liked you bestwhen you were nakedon my bed,head between your kneesas you caught your breath.this was the last timei felt good about you,the last that it was safeto sink myself into your arms.since then,i have realised this:i love you,but that is not enough.i'll just embracethe new spaceput between us,and all one thousand milesthat act like a membranebetween two fluids,wanting little morethan to meshtogetheragain.it fails to end me,the paining i feel,deep pressurein my chest,but i am unsurehow.our love,sent out to sea,went down in
when the eastern sun sinksi wonder if you wouldchange your mind(change yourself,find it in yourheartto feel a little somethingfor me)if you saw the wordsyou've pulled frommy mouth;uncovered by your lips,i find poems under my hands.i write strophes and linesimprinted on your skinwhen i move my fingers away.i have so much toshow you,i could give you so muchto feel,but you slink like anightcrawler from lightto a comfortable recession,and there,you stay.one day,we will talk againand no stammered heartwill beat like birdsif our hands touch;one day,you will realisethat sooner than you have,you could haveshared your selfwith someone elseand been safe-you would have beensafe
i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.every time it rains,i think of you.because that's all there is--the wind,the waterand a quick breath of airbefore we all go under.every time it rains,i swear i'm drowning.