[x]

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

we're all made of stories.We're all either made of cells or stories, but in your case, it's both. You're somehow bigger than what one body can contain. And I know that all of this – all these words and breaths and spaces – aren't enough to explain you. You're better than any fiction will ever be.

I remember sitting in the passenger seat of your car, watching the familiar city streets flick by, fast like a picture book. It felt like there was something I was missing between the pages and second story houses, but I couldn't place it. I had my arms wrapped tight around my middle, holding my insides in since I was afraid with every passing moment I would let th

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

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 w

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

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 throu

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 b

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 an

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

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 heartbeat
and subtle smiles when no one's looking.
I'm checking my phone messages
more times than any girl should,
but you're not letting me down.

You remind me of a time when things were easy
before I memorized what sadness felt like
and stopped feeling alive.

And for the first time, I don't feel broken
in a way that can't be fixed.
I don't feel like I was built in a way
that doesn't fit.

the last sentence I started like thisI wonder if you're still breathing
in the same pattern that you used to
and if your life just picked up
as it was before in a way that
makes me insignificant
and meaningless.

I wonder if there's someone new —
if she speaks in complete sentences
and means it
when she says
she loves you.

I wonder if you're doing better
and if you'll get it right this time.

I wonder,
but I don't really care.

That's the difference
between now and before,
because before
I couldn't forget you
and now,
I barely remember you.

maybe you never belonged to meI can still feel the weight of your lips on the curve of my collarbone. Sometimes, it feels paralyzing, crushing, absolute. Sometimes, it feels like home. Like everything.

I once heard that when you can't fall asleep it means you're awake in someone else's dream. I wonder which one of us was dreaming that night, because everything was too quiet, too easy, too perfect. You used to fall asleep next to me, your body curled against mine. It's a warmth that's not easy to forget. A hidden smile tucked into pillows and sheets. It's easy to think these things will last forever when you're tangled up together. For me, the strings of my life will alwa

we're never what we think.at least twice a day, i find myself wishing i was less.
less of a worrier.
less of a lover.
less of a mess.

all of this would be so much better, if the disconnect between
what i want and what i have would close because then things
would be simple for the first time in years. and i could inhale
without wondering what kind of consequences it will have five
minutes from now. you can only imagine what really goes
through my mind in the time it'll take you to breathe in and
out. now hold it. like i've been holding this thought for months—

the girl i was is quickly vanishing.

i've been holding it like a secret on the tip of

i'm not your symphony but i'm orchestrated anywaysit's not easy to explain --

but i'm a rushed symphony of heartbeats, quick breaths and hiccups. i'm not made of skin and bones, but a complicated sentence structure and thoughts that i spew out before i even finish them.

i'm messy in all the wrong ways.

and i'm not right in any of the ways that matter. but still you're always here, picking me up when i fall, kissing me goodnight, making a life with me one day at a time. and you haven't gone yet but i'm always moving so how long can you stay. how long can i expect it. how long is too long when you're living and loving and breathing and hell, if i can't stay still i'll mess this up for sure.

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 sl

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not everything is beautifulso here's the thing:

you're not you
and i'm not me
and we're not us.

and all i know is that this
is heartbreak in the worse way
since right now
i know i can't have you
but ohdeargod please
i really do want you.

and maybe everything
is a circle so i'll get you
or will be okay since life goes onandonandon
or is about to completely destroy me
or is just...done with. complete. over.

but one thing i know
is that it is november
and i am so so sick
of saying goodbye
to things i love.

but it's true that
everything good
has an ending

and this is mine.

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if i knew what this meant, i'd tell you.

by ~paperheartsyndrome, Apr 25, 2012, 6:41:09 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

I'm positive that you're still missing the point.

Your house is just over the hill and I keep gasping for breath like this is the first time I've ever been alone with you and my skin hasn't memorized the loops and whirls that your fingerprints make against the indents of my hipbones. Sometimes, I act like I've never met you before because I'm afraid of losing the excitement of falling in love. I once heard that everyone is just looking for the next big thing – someone brighter and better than me. You've already started calling me "annie," because you got bored with my real name. I wonder if I should be scared. I wonder if I should be worried. I wonder why all my clothes still smell like you and why I'm counting off the minutes until I can see your face again. It's gotten impossible to know whether I'm telling this story backwards or forwards. We're all in the wrong order.

Every time I sit down to tell you my history, I realize that I'm always talking about things that didn't happen. Or details that I've been waiting to happen. I'm telling you about a boy who broke my heart just so he could put it together and break it again. And then I'm telling you about you and realizing that you're exactly what I want. I'm not comfortable in my own skin, but I'm comfortable in your arms. I'm starting to wonder if it's the same thing. Every day is a step away from something that I thought I'd have forever, but it's also a bit closer to something that's even better.

You wanted to die before I met you and sometimes, I wish I could go back in time just to save you. Sometimes, when we're lying in bed, I have to keep turning my head to make sure you're there since I'm still so terrified that you'll disappear. You're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere without you. I keep making promises and I used to be afraid I couldn't keep them, but it's easier here with you. It's effortless. And I've lost track of a way to gage just how happy I am.

I can't explain how lucky I got when I met you.

if i knew what this meant, i'd tell you.by ~paperheartsyndrome

Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

©2012-2013 ~paperheartsyndrome

because i'm usually all over the place.

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~MadMonk7 Jun 9, 2012

I like this it's honest even if it doesn't understand itself and that's cool

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~paperheartsyndrome Jun 16, 2012 Writer

Thank you!

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~kokutan-tenshi May 27, 2012 Student General Artist

"It's gotten impossible to know whether I'm telling this story backwards or forwards."

I know that feeling.

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~paperheartsyndrome Jun 16, 2012 Writer

Definitely. It's a familiar one.

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~losingmyfaith May 4, 2012 Student Writer

<3

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~paperheartsyndrome Jun 16, 2012 Writer

!!! <3

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Mood: Love

~angryangel57 Apr 28, 2012 Student General Artist

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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~paperheartsyndrome Jun 16, 2012 Writer

thank you! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 (heart war!)

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~Wor-D-Rizzle Apr 27, 2012

"I'm not comfortable in my own skin, but I'm comfortable in your arms."...beautiful

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~paperheartsyndrome Jun 16, 2012 Writer

thank you!

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