To the person who helped me see the best in my self:
It’s about **** time you see the best in you.
It’s about time you cut the ties with the people like me,
The ones who need you. The ones who want more. The ones who will love you when you don’t want to love yourself.
Because we’re probably less than you expected,
But we need you to find what makes you want to wake up in the morning.
To the person who loves himself just enough:
Be strong. Be resilient. Be young. Be adventurous. But most importantly, be exactly who you want to be.
You get one life. Love and be loved the way that suits you.
Be who you needed when you were younger.
Grow and flourish.
Maybe I’m the sapling.. because I’m pretty sure you’re the soil.
To the person who knows himself:
Wander far and wide.
Meet everyone you can.
Befriend them all; they mean you no harm.
But make haste as you gather your thoughts and belongings.
You’re the vagabond I long to be.
Here’s to you:
Another round, please.
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Step One:
Meet someone.
Step Two:
Become friends.
Step Three:
Spend too much time with them.
Step Four:
Realize that you have gotten along better with them than anyone else you know.
Step Five:
Tell yourself that they're the one for you.
Step Six:
Tell them that they're the one for you.
Step Seven:
Date.
Step Eight:
Fall in love.
Take a deep breath.
This is where it gets tricky.
STEP NINE:
Stay together for awhile...
STEP TEN:
AND AWHILE LONGER
STEP ELEVEN
AND WHILE LONGER
STEP TWELVE
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
STEP THIRTEEN:
SHORTEN CONVERSATIONS
STEP FOURTEEN:
AWKWARD SILENCE
STEP FIFTEEN:
THEY STOP CALLING
STEP SIXTEEN:
THEY STOP TEXTING
STEP SEVENTEEN:
THEY SAY THEY FEEL DIFFERENTLY
STEP EIGHTEEN:
THEY SAY THEY MET SOMEONE ELSE
STEP NINETEEN:
THEY SAY THEY STILL WANT TO BE FRIENDS
STEP TWENTY:
THEY BLOCK YOU ONLINE
STEP TWENTY-ONE:
THEY BLOCK YOUR CELLPHONE NUMBER
STEP TWENTY-TWO:
YOU CRY
and you cry
and cry
and cry
and cry and cry and cry...
Step Twenty-Three:
...you fall
and hit rock bottom.
There you have it, ladies in gentlemen:
How to **** yourself without actually dying?
...Love someone who doesn't love you back.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
New memories develop
At such a rapid pace
That I can't seem
To differentiate
The time they were given
And the time I fully received them.
Maybe time is relative...
All I know is
That it's relevant
When it passes by too quickly
That you forget to stop and smell the flowers
Which died long ago
But you can't seem to throw out
Because when you do,
You throw away another
Memory
Like the ones you promised
Long ago
That you never would.
I did this for you
And not the universal
YOU
...But him.
I thought that
Things would get better
If I followed his advice
And replaced the old
With new.
Yet now that it's over
I feel like
I am missing
The most important parts
Of me.
I want to blame him
But that is ignorant.
I'm the one who chose
Submission
Over stance
All for a lover
Who I could not fulfill
And who knows
That it goes both ways.
This time
I don't want him back
But I wish,
More than anything,
That I could have myself back
Because I gave too many pieces
Of my self
In order to please someone
That I knew I ever could.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
When he speaks,
sometimes I hold my breath
like I hold his hands.
Drowning above water,
caught in the riptide of
Lust and Language,
seems like such a foreign concept.
At least it was before I met him.
I can feel my heart
as it palpitates
and the arteries
that throb just
below my skull...
They silently beg me to
let go of what his words
do - the pressure they place
on my lungs.
Winded like prey
who has just flown
from the ravenous predator.
I feel torn apart
more often than saved.
And right now, I ******* hate metaphors.
Who knew it was possible
to anticipate
that the way you may die
would actually be
the only way you ever lived?
Always caught up in
someone else's words.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
I find myself watching
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Over and over and over again.
I've seen this movie over 200 times.
I watched it seven times in one day
Over and over and over again...
The equivalent of
more than fourteen hours;
more than half of a day wasted
pretending I could erase him too.
I just couldn't stop.
The fantasy was too enthralling...
I wished I had Alzheimer's,
since the procedure doesn't exist,
but if I did, he would have been
the only thing
I could remember.
That was three years ago.
And honestly,
I'm not sure why
I've watched it
three times this week.
I think I'm preparing myself
for the moment
when what seems
too good to be true
finally is.
And maybe when this moment strikes me
like a bolt of lightning,
I won't feel the need to watch it
as many times as before.
Then again,
I've heard lightning never strikes
the same place twice.
I hope for the best
and prepare for the worst.
...Ironically enough,
I hope that I forget
I felt this way
tomorrow.
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
I am in love
And I fight love like a war
I wasn't trained for.
In the simplest terms:
Love is giving someone
the power to destroy you
and trusting they won't.
But how can I trust him not to destroy me
when I have become a mosaic:
picking up my broken pieces,
again and again,
only to arrange them into something
more beautiful than I was to begin with.
I guess this is why I trust him...
Even if he were to destroy me
I'd have more broken glass
to use for the masterpiece
that I've been creating for years.
I wonder if this is all in my head...
I'm no longer an enigma
but a work of art,
and an artist's work is never complete.
I suppose I await the day
when he picks me up
and throws me to the floor.
I swore I heard him say he didn't love me
the same way I love him
and I felt a piece fall and shatter.
I must wait
to add that piece
back in with the others
when I collect the remnants
of who I was before him.
...At least I'm used to it now.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC