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there's no right way anymorei do not know why we do these things to each other.

our sentences lack all the proper meaning. we only say what we're feeling when we're feeling nothing at all and keep all the most important things we could ever think to say safe beneath guarded tongues. we are clever in all the wrong ways.

it's about how we do all the things we're expected to because to actually do what we want the most—the things that scare us—would mean having to take a risk. we might need to deal with the possibility that we have something to lose by doing nothing at all.

there is a complete certainty that we've gotten content in our loneliness—in our m
this mistake isn't beautiful.My biggest mistake was ever pretending I was special.

When a perfect moment goes to your head, it seems to be so much more than you ever imagined. Finally, the feelings are less lonely. You find that all of your sharp edges and emptiness are smoothed over and filled by someone else's words. You actually feel safe in this person's arms after a lifetime of being too afraid to get close. So when everyone tells you this is love, you believe them.

Suddenly, you can't do anything without it being completely consumed by them. Maybe this is completely unhealthy—totally wrong, but all you know is now it seems like unraveling this one individual
this is the distinct linemy subconscious hates me.
maybe even more than i
hate myself right now.
impossible, i know, but
just listen.

i dreamed about you last night
for the first time in a long time.
you called me. your voice still
makes my heart do enough flips
and tumbles to make me sick.
not in a bad way though. never
in a bad way. but in any case,
you called and you weren't
angry. we weren't awkward.
we just were.

i smiled and it wasn't fake.

i dreamed that you could still love
me or that you still did.
one of the two. i can't remember.
either way, i felt whole again.
that's a feeling i thought i'd
forgotten. i should forget it.

i
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
i'm contradictory at best.i wonder what it's like to look into your face and not want to spill every secret i've ever had. i want to be startlingly indifferent. i want to say i don't care and mean it. i want to be reckless in more than that jaywalking every morning on my way to work sort of way. i want to say something that will completely change the course of everything forever. i want to be the sort of thing people need to invent a new word for, because "cataclysmic" won't cover what a disaster i am.

i want to be someone new.

i worry about why the air always tastes several degrees colder than your skin. i know there's a correlation that i haven't figured out yet,
we're all standing still.He's not coming back this time.

It's hard to remember that sometimes when a door shuts, it just stays closed. There's no other consequence. No other opportunity. Just one more way you can't go. One more person that you can't follow. Sometimes, you're just as stuck as you feel so it doesn't matter if the earth travels one million six hundred thousand miles through space every day. You are in the same place as yesterday so all that other movement is just superfluous. It's not bringing anyone closer together. It's not going toward any sort of destination. There is no end. No point. It's just ceaseless movement through an ever-expanding universe
i only have nonsense.the tip of my tongue has never tasted a tragedy quite like you.

by now, i should know better than to do these things. but i don't.
so i will. the only sense of right and wrong i have anymore is
trapped between the edge of my teeth and the curve of your lips
and i'm losing it. fast.

not all of us spark when we kiss, but you've started the fire that's
raging down my spinal column and through my heart. i'm burning and
it hurts everywhere. i still can't bring myself to mind because at
least this way, i still get to feel something.

last night i promised myself that i would never say another word i didn't mean.

so hopefully, the next t
second chances don't fit here.i never feel colder
than when i'm talking to you.

i don't know what this says about us.
but i know that i worry about the way
you complicate something as simple as
the beating of my heart. i don't think
i love you. not yet. not since. not
ever but maybe that's just the strong
sense of denial i've built up in the
past few months. i don't think i'll be
okay. not now. not really. not quite.

maybe you were good for me once
but you're no good for me now.

i often wonder what would happen if i
stopped speaking for awhile since all
my words ever do is make a mess out of
things that should be easy. the thing is
that when i'm hap
gravitational collapseI remember being seven years old, sitting at our scratched kitchen table and being able to see the moon through the reflective glass of the window over the sink. And I remember being terrified, because here I was sitting in same place and already the whole world had shifted and moved and rotated and spun and tilted and hurled through space at a rate so quick I could never comprehend it. To me, this was the sort of mystery you didn't try to solve.

I remember being curled up against the solid frame of your body with your right hand claimed in between both of mine. Our pale skin blending together as I traced constellations on your palms. You la
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 the worst person i know.You remind me of every mistake I was too afraid to make.

I don't know where this leaves me now. This is like standing in front of your living room window and watching all the seasons slip by in the course of a moment. Forever gone in less than a second. I don't know if you've noticed yet, but time simply makes everything seem fleeting until we've already forgotten what we promised we'd never forget. It's funny how selective our memories become. How the past clouds over until it's nearly impossible to distinguish the shapes of the feelings that were once so familiar or the outline of your smile—the sound of your voice. It all fades. Then
i don't have the wordsI'm getting used to this feeling—not because it's comfortable. In fact, it's lodged itself between my lungs and my ribcages and makes every moment a gasp for air. But I've grown into it—into relearning how to breathe, into talking in more of a whisper so that people feel like they need to be closer just to hear what I'm saying, into rewiring my circuitry so that every waking moment isn't spent deciphering what's in my head.

Since the thing is explaining that would be like trying to hold up the sky with just the palm of your hand. Millions of years of the atmosphere and gravity existing—completely unyielding—all reduced to
the easiest thingSometimes, it seems like the easiest thing to do would be to get over you, but things that sound simple are rarely so when put in the proper context. It's okay though, since I still feel my heart beating every night before I go to sleep so I know that I'll make it. That you haven't quite won. At least not in the sense that I'm through fighting.

Sometimes, it seems like the easiest thing to do would be to give up. I'm more of a lover than a fighter and more of a coward than a hero. But the thing is I'm through just lying down and taking whatever the world throws at me. You told me to try harder and I swear I am. So if I thought I could fix an
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
baby, i'm a catastrophe.i remember.

i remember being pulled to you
like there was some sort of
invisible force acting between us.
unrelenting.
tying me to you.
maybe you had an addictive personality
and i wasn't strong enough to resist.

that was the beginning.

the middle was just…lost.
who i was was gone before
you really got to know her.
and you--you were changing.
maybe i was changing you and
it was so so wrong
but i convinced myself not to care.
it was like a star flickering out.
burning fast.
already dead.
but still too beautiful
to forget.

the ending was more like
a comet crashing into the sun.
blindingly stupid.
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More from ~paperheartsyndrome

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 enou
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
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
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 water
and a quick breath of air
before we all go under.

every time it rains,
i swear i'm drowning.
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.

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[x]

this is half-hearted living.

:iconpaperheartsyndrome:

i know i'm going to have to say goodbye soon. and i can't stand it. i won't even think of it outside the confines of this sentence and the sinking feeling I get anytime i'm driving too fast just to get away from this place. these four walls have left me feeling more alone than i ever expected. mostly because this house feels empty. even when everyone is here and even when i can't think because of all the yelling pulsating down the hallways, it's unspeakably hollow. i know it's because this place isn't home anymore. since home is a person and i lost that. i'm not where i'm supposed to be. i'm not with who i'm supposed to be. and i'm not who i'm supposed to be.

but most of all, i don't know where i belong.

sometimes, when it's late and i can't sleep, i replay the things i miss the most behind my closed eyelids. everything is about you or someone else who is just as gone. these are the things i do to myself when i'm too tired to fight anymore. too tired to even move. too tired to not think about you after an endless day of forcing myself not to. because during the day, the one thing i know with any type of certainty is i cannot afford to remember you. at least not right now.

it's crippling.

i can feel my bones fracture from the pressure of what could have been if i had been just a little more careful. kept my emotions in check. been patient and tried to figure out what you really wanted or if i had just been better at being with you, supporting you, loving you instead of getting it all confused. i'm sorry--i meant to do those things. i wish i would have or still could if you wanted me to.

i'm more reckless than i think sometimes so when i'm playing the images in my head, i know i shouldn't be thinking these things, but i do not care. not right now. still i shouldn't be thinking about the taste of your skin. your fingers fitting perfectly between mine. your breath hot against my neck, my thighs, my mouth. You were everywhere. i can still feel you everywhere. and i swear to god, it's killing me.

i cannot afford to think about the sound of your voice and how it's slipping from me. how you would bite the corner of your lip when you smiled even though i no longer recall the exact contours of your face no matter how hard i try. how my heart skips beats and fumbles and breaks everyday. the look on your face when i saw you last. the words i said to you when we fell apart. things i never should have said. things i never should have done.

i cannot afford to remember these things since i cannot afford to remember you, but i also know i cannot afford to forget.

this is why i'm stuck. this is why i can't get over you no matter how many times i begin, because there's this never ending universe of regrets and fears and confusion and pointless hopes that i may need a lifetime to sort out.

i know that i'm going to have to live this way. loving you with half a heart. never quite whole again.

i will never pretend i deserve anything better.
:iconpaperheartsyndrome:
i will never pretend anything ever again.

i'm sorry.

this is the first time since i've started writing that i feel like my words have completely failed me. not because i hate this but because i feel like they don't make things better. they don't make things matter and they let me down.

pretty soon even i will run out of things to say. i don't know what i feel anymore. about you. about anything. i just know...this is me and i won't apologize for it.
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:iconfromcolontobracket:
~FromColonToBracket Feb 20, 2011
<3
Reply
:iconzeii:
!zeii Feb 15, 2011   Writer
oh my heart breaks with this... because its so familiar in so many ways. but different because for me it is finally past...
as much as it can be... with these haunting and intoxicating situations...
and even tho i have found my way out, this still breaks my heart (in a [good] way (?) ha!)

well done! mad props as usual. i love your writing! :glomp:
Reply
:iconlosingmyfaith:
~losingmyfaith Feb 14, 2011  Student Writer
This is beautifully written. It's very honest, definitely a piece where the reader can see pieces of the author scattered within the words (which is the best sort of piece IMO). Wonderful.


I'm sorry you're hurting though. I wish I could help. :huggle:
Reply
:iconpaperheartsyndrome:
~paperheartsyndrome Feb 14, 2011   Writer
thank you so much. that means a lot to me.


and i know you do. i'll be okay though. i'm sort of the cause of all my own pain so i'll have to figure something out.
Reply
:iconlosingmyfaith:
~losingmyfaith Feb 14, 2011  Student Writer
You're most welcome, hun! :heart:

Reply
:iconoxfordisburning:
~OxfordIsBurning Feb 13, 2011
time doesn't heal certain things and words and distance and space and hope, sometimes longing goes on and pain continues relentlessly and without remorse or pity and sometimes there's no way out. even your ways out will lead to rooms bleaker than these.

i'm sorry. if i were there i'd hug you at least. and neither of us would feel it, but at least true intentions tend to hold onto their meanings in a way misery can't destroy. misery cannot destroy truth, i think.
Reply
:iconmoon-lit-words:
~moon-lit-words Feb 13, 2011  Student Writer
so right [ here ] insert a bunch of words talking about how free verse is kick ass. and right [ here ] i want you, miss paperheart, to insert the words that talk about how form helps guide our thoughts to paper

i don't watch you because you're a good content writer. every person feels, so it's nothing special to read what you write. i imagine most people express these feelings/thoughts, so that you are writing, also, isn't special

you've got it in you to shape the words better than this - stop giving such a damn about which words you're using and let yourself fall back onto how you use words
Reply
:iconzombietrudy:
~zombietrudy Feb 13, 2011
another very relevant and powerful piece.
thank you again.
Reply
:iconpaperheartsyndrome:
~paperheartsyndrome Feb 20, 2011   Writer
thanks so much <3
Reply
:iconsixteenthseason:
~sixteenthseason Feb 12, 2011   Interface Designer
Stunning piece of writing!
Reply
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