the existential romanticist

the existential romanticist Mar 2015

10:16pm

id on't know what to do anymor e

#depression #sadness

the existential romanticist Mar 2015

the battle between the nails and the wood

it's been four years since today and i haven't seen your face in longer than that

it wasn't a train wreck hearing that the coma you were in slipped from your grasp and you might not have even wanted to hold on to it; it was like someone taking your nightmares and placing them in reality

i wonder about where you are and what you're doing all the time and then i remember you told me you don't believe in a god and i realized that if we are the subject of our perceptions then there was no way you were anywhere but in the bottom of the earth with no air to breath through and with dirt encompassing all the inches of your body

i wish i understood back then what it took to go up and face your largest fears and all of your anger in the image of heaven found in that leather belt that was used so many times before, but i didn't get it and i don't think anyone really did and it was only when i understood what true pain feels like and when i figured out the delicate paths to madness and loneliness that i realized no one truly understood why you did it until we grew up

you weren't fourteen but your mind had the veins of someone much, much older than that and i will never forget the times when we were together because although they were few and far between they are enough to last a lifetime

the one thing that scares me is that oblivion is inevitable and this is not a john green book and i am not hazel grace and the fear in me pounds harder every day and i realize that one day i will look at the date as march second and not realize that it's the anniversary of your death and then one day someone else will look at the date i die and they won't realize anything either and if that is all we're meant to be, someone needs to explain what we're doing here

i miss you, man. i hope wherever you are it isn't half as bad as what you had to feel in the place full of the mirages of dreams. may you rest in paradise, in your coffin, in the blue skies, in the dirt.

3/2/2011 and still counting.

on march 2, 2011 the world lost a boy to suicide, and this is for him.

the existential romanticist Feb 2015

open air hurts the wounds

when the breath of your words hit my skin, it just makes my wounds bleed more

at first you think you have a band-aid and it will be okay and you aren't bleeding and then the wounds itch and you think they're starting to heal but really they're learning how to break the band-aid apart from your skin again

it's been a while since i've had a good cry and i'm glad you brought me back to that reality as i've been crying continuously in the past three hours and i know you can't ignore your own wounds either but did you really have to make me believe false promises in order to become a prize or trophy instead of just a human being?

the existential romanticist Feb 2015

you can't fix what you don't know is there

on the surface there is skin. there are cuts, there are bruises, there is dry hands and scaly hearts and bags under eyes too round and too obvious. there are bracelets there are memories there are necklaces there is cover up there are flaws there are pimples there is a mask.

you cannot fix what you do not know is behind me. you cannot fix what is underneath my heart, what is underneath that skin that you think is so beautiful because when i was young i was taught that make up can help you hide and boy is that what i need. you cannot fix my mind, you cannot fix memories, and you can certainly never replace them. you can fill my mouth with words whispered in scarce breaths about love and about pain and about passion and about depression but there will never truly be that i get it that we are all looking for.

i cannot fix what i do not know is there, either. you can grab out but i'm a bad decision and you shouldn't rely on me to fix you or save your life because i have the blood of an animal that has learned to fend for itself, and sure you say all the time rely on yourself but you also reach out to me in times when i do not know how to do that and that scares me.

there's a breaking point; the point where it becomes uncomfortable. there is a point when the romantic falling stops and when the concrete hits and the wall builds back up and you become deserted in my heart, and that moment is here and even though you seem well worth it for me to build the wall back down i don't know if i can do that quite yet. i don't know if i can do that ever...

stop while you're ahead is what they tell me and what i think i should say but instead i remain silent and drown in the pool of laughter than i'm emitting from a mouth so numb it forgot how to speak again because i was taught that if you have nothing nice to say don't say it and i don't want to hurt you so i just shut myself down because i would rather hurt myself and i'm confused and scared and over-think and worried

false promises never got me anywhere

#love

the existential romanticist Feb 2015

He&She

Slowly she helps pick up the pieces that he left in front of her feet.*

He woke up later, went to sleep sooner, ate more, got rid of his old habits, found meaning in a sunset and saw life at every dawn, compared the necessary and the unnecessary and chose accordingly each time.

But as she fixed him, he was not fixing her

She was still filled with pain and regret and sadness and no matter how many pieces she leaves for him they just exponentially increase to infinity and eventually he gets tired of doing the work and decides when he is ready to leave her, alone and without love.

#love

the existential romanticist Feb 2015

two hours and counting

when your heart beats faster than it has ever beaten and your palms start sweating and you smile and you blush and you laugh and you wish that you were next to him but you know it's okay because the phone is something that has made you closer than ever and he tells you that he likes this and he tells you he likes that and you tell yourself you will just leave it at like but love seems to be rearing its head nearer and nearer and you want to say that you think about him all the time but you just say think about his smile because then you don't sound so crazy and he tells you you calm him down and you start to feel yourself falling even harder and the rocks are morphing into a blanket and the ground looks so comforting and falling has never been this fun

#love