paperheartsyndrome

All I can remember thinking is "how did we end up here?" as I stared up at the too bright sky, letting the sun imprint itself into my vision, in the hopes that I'd be just blind enough to not have to see the look on your face when I finally got up the courage to tilt my eyes from the sky back to yours. It felt like it had been decades since we met on this beach. Honestly, it felt like it had been centuries. I could barely remember what you smile first looked like, but I know it was so much bigger than it is now. The only thing I have left is the smell of laundry detergent on your fade t-shirts and the aftertaste of summer on your skin. I kno

It's been years and I'm still here. Recycling the same sentences. Stuck in the same words. Buried in a past that doesn't quite belong to me anymore. It's funny how with enough distance nothing ever looks real anymore. It's like the way I can stand four miles from the lakefront and can still see the horizon. Clashing blues and greens. A straight line of water against an even straighter line of sky. And that's it. It's everything and it's nothing and for a little while I can pretend I'm somewhere else. Somewhere new. That I can see an entire ocean sprawled out in front of me, instead of the dirty familiar waters of Lake Michigan. I've grown up

I don’t know what I’m doing in this place. My bones ache to take me away – to take me anywhere but here. But my heart remembers this place and its beat is racing, pumping blood into the far corners of my body, making my limbs too heavy to move. But I want to leave so badly, with every part of my being, but the one. My heart still belongs here…even after all these years. I don’t remember the last time I saw your face. But I can tell you that I still hear your voice in my dreams. In the deepest of sleeps, you’re still alive inside of me, deep within the folds of my heart, the dark spaces of my imagination

When I think of that first day, I will always remember the air as being too warm, and your clothes being wrinkled, your hair a complete mess. I remember how your nerves had your every sentence starting with “uhm” and how I hated indecisiveness and you couldn’t make up your mind, and I remember thinking I could do better without you. Now, I know that first impressions aren’t quite as important as they tell you every time you open that front door with your mismatched socks and complimentary sarcasm, armed with a crooked smile and bad grammar. Because if that were true, I would have said hello and goodbye in the same sent