And then we fell asleep intertwined with each other
It felt so good to have somebody close to me like that
But see I don't want to please someone else
I want to be pleased
I want nights like that all the time
Where I can wake up from a nightmare and feel the warmth of another person next to me and tell myself that I'm okay
At least for now
That's why I don't let people leave
That's why I latch on so tight
If they leave then everything comes back
All the voices and the walls and the crying and the nights where I literally fear for my life They leave and they take all the happiness and love I gave them
So my body is empty and all the monsters and demons and bad memories come back and they never leave
They won't ever leave until I can find another person to give me that feeling
That's what's wrong with me
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Can't you see the look in her eyes
Can't you tell that she is broken and beat
Can't you see that her beautiful, ocean blue eyes show that she is dead inside
The blue is fading because her soul is leaving
The bags under her eyes tell stories of long days and terrible nights
The red veins that swim through them shows you exactly how drunk she is because alcohol is the only thing that she can feel
You refuse to make eye contact with her because her eyes show you things that she physically can't
Her eyes make up for the marks on her body. They make up for the rasp in her voice when she screams at night for you to save her.
Why won't you save her
Why aren't you holding her
Why aren't you screaming you love her
Why are you just standing there like you didn't ******* cause this
She is rotting from the inside out because she fills herself with drugs, and ***** and pills, and tells her self everything will be okay but in reality nothing is okay and nothing will ever be okay
The only thing keeping her alive is the hope that you'll come back
But you're not coming back
You don't have the ******* decency to tell this poor soul that you have moved on
You're putting false hope into her and and she eats it like a ******* slave. She worships you. She loves you. She gave you everything and then some. You left with all of that. And I know that you will have one night stands on drunken nights, and maybe even a relationship if you're stable, but I know that all you'll see is her eyes. Her eyes will haunt you in your dreams and the faces of other woman. Her eyes.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 6:40 PM UTC
I will forever have the marks of your finger tips from when you held me that night I cried so hard my eyes burned, just like how I will forever have the marks on my wrists and thighs from when I tried to make myself feel something that night you left.
I will forever have the taste of your lips from when you kissed me so hard that night I told you I needed you, just like how I will forever have the taste of ***** in my mouth from when I panicked so badly that night you told me we were over.
I will forever have the imprint of your eyes from when you looked at me for so long that night I couldn't sleep, just like how I will forever have the imprint of my mother crying from when she found me half dead that night you told me you didn't love me.
I will never feel happiness. I will never see beauty. I will never get rid of these memories. You will forever be branded into my dreams, and I will have nothing but nightmares.
I will always feel nothing. I will always see the ugly in everything. I will never get rid of the thoughts at night of death and how easy he is.
I am broken. I am bruised. I am empty, and I am cold. I will never feel warmth. I will never feel or see anything I did when I was with you. You are gone, and you took every part of me when you left. I no longer feel my heart beat. I often find myself holding my breath, and I never realize until I'm choking on the words I can never say to you because you won't let me. I am dead. I am nothing but a lifeless skeleton covered in the skin you held ever so gently. I will never forget the way your hands felt when you would rub my back on stressful days. I will never forget the way your voice would crack when you tried to sing to me on nights I wouldn't sleep. I will never forget the way you undressed me when you wanted to feel me. All I ever wanted was to feel you. How soft and kind your skin felt against mine. But I can never feel that again, and now all I want is to feel the comfort of death carrying me away to a world I've only ever seen in my dreams. All I want is to forget everything you burned into me. You are the blood that rushes in my veins and I think that's why I cut myself. To release you. But it never seems to work because you are always there. You will always be there.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 4:06 AM UTC
I used to think when you kissed me, you were healing me. I now realize that you were just filling my throat with poison. I now realize that with every touch from your ever so soft finger tips, you were tearing my skin away from me. You were bruising my body like it was nothing but the head of a nail and you were the hammer. You were making my brain melt inside my mind because your words were so harsh, yet so gentle how could I not love you. How did I not see that your eyes, your beautiful, radiant, green eyes, were nothing but black holes that ****** every part of reality from my mind. I was manipulated. I was hurt. I was dying because when you left, you took every ounce of hope and happiness that I had left. You are a thief. You are a liar. I am alive. I don't know how I did it, but I pulled through, and I am so much stronger now. I see the beauty in everyone that I thought you took away from me. I can smile and laugh now, the qualities I have that I thought you stole in my sleep. I am happy. The one thing I never thought I'd be and you are suffering. I wish you good luck through this mess you've put yourself in, because I cleaned mine up, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
I'm sorry that I will find myself more in broken skin and ****** blades than I will ever find myself in another human being
I'm sorry that the bottom of the bottle holds every type of emotional bond I've ever felt with another soul
I'm sorry that "I love you" is never enough because my hands will never only pull your skin in closer and my hands will never only write about your breath taking, infatuating kiss
I'm sorry. I'm truly, inconveniently sorry.
But I will fall asleep with the smell of your hair wrapped up in my lungs only to be awaken by the choking I feel without you next to me
And I will spread my torn up broken pieces all over your bed sheets while you rub my head mumbling I love you's like you're talking to an incoherent second grader because what is love if you are never going to be loved back
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
I always used to wonder why you were so cold. I wondered why you never left your room and why you could never be seen. I remember the night I listened into your room and you spoke so lightly. It had been months since I heard your voice so clear. You said "take me I'm ready"
I asked God why he made you so sad. I asked God why he let this man do this to me. I asked God why you held that rope so tightly.
I remember the first time I ever cut my wrists, it was crimson and bliss. I asked God why he let me do it. I asked God why he let you do it.
I remember watching you pop them like tic tacs. I watched how fast you could clean the house. How fast you moved, talked, and how loud you screamed.
I asked God why you didn't want me. A man answered back with a hand. I asked God why I deserved that. I asked him to not let you go.
I remember when I sat outside your door asking for a hair dryer. I knocked for 10 minutes. When you finally came out I saw the look on your face. I asked God why you wanted to die. I asked God why I did too.
I remember when you got taken away and I eventually stopped asking God such things.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
I WASN'T THE ONE WHO CHANGED
I WASN'T THE ONE WHO BECAME AN ADDICT
I WASN'T THE ONE WHO TALKED DIFFERENT, WALKED DIFFERENT, LOOKED DIFFERENT, FELT DIFFERENT
I WASN'T THE ONE WHO ****** THIS RELATIONSHIP SO HARD THAT IT BROKE INTO A THOUSAND PIECES
BUT I HOPE WHEN YOU'RE WALKING ALL OVER IT YOUR FEET GET TORN TO SHREDS
I WASN'T THE ONE WHO ****** WITH MY MIND SO BADLY IT MELTED INTO A COLD BLACK MESS
BUT I HOPE WHEN YOU TALK **** ABOUT HOW MENTALLY ****** UP I WAS THAT YOU BREATHE IN COLD AIR WITH EVERY WORD
I WASN'T THE ONE ****** UP MY EMOTIONS SO THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPINESS IS
BUT I HOPE WHEN YOU SEE JUST THAT EMITTING FROM MY BODY, EVERY PART OF YOU DIES INSIDE
I KNOW I'M A MESS RIGHT NOW AND YOU THINK I'LL COME BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR YOUR LOVE AGAIN
BUT I HOPE WHEN YOU SEE THAT I CAN SMILE
WHEN YOU SEE THAT I CAN LAUGH
WHEN YOU SEE THAT I NOW SPARKLE BECAUSE I AM HAPPY
WHEN YOU SEE THAT I AM OKAY
I HOPE YOU REALIZE THAT YOU WERE THE ONE WHO ******* LEFT AND I AM GOING RIGHT
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
I tried really hard to be mad at you and blame you for the way we panned out. I did. But then I realized that you were ******* beautiful and honestly one of the greatest lessons. I don't need you and I never really needed you, I wanted you. I spent so much time breathing for you and trying to figure out why you couldn't love me but I know you did and that's why we weren't gonna work. You can never invest yourself into someone when you are dead. I'm dead and you are dead and we never had a chance to heal. You just need a chance to heal. Maybe love will never be your thing and maybe it's not real at all. Love has no definition and love can't just be spoken and it can't be acted and its not a real emotion let alone an essence. I enjoyed being with you, like physically around you and that was love when we were together. Outside of our bubble when we were home sitting on our phones writing about each other or just pretty much anything that was completely different. And maybe we weren't meant to actually be together but we were meant to teach each other. So yes. I understand now that you aren't healed and you have every right to want to be your own instead of being claimed as someone's. "You're mine" is a statement that can be so scary when everyone you ever let call you theirs completely ****** you over and left you thinking that everything ends badly so why begin it. So I get it and I thank you for giving me a chance to be vulnerable and let my walls down for once.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
The heartbroken always become the heartbreakers. If you don't agree, spend the night with me.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
It wasn't always like this. I wasn't always like this. I was happy. But it's been so long since I felt the warmth of that feeling, I no longer allow it for myself. I'm so use to the cold empty feeling of sadness that I don't need jackets. I don't need scarfs or sweaters or blankets or the touch of another human being because I've made peace with this monster. This disease. This virus that stomps around in my head and flows through my veins and fills my lungs. This thing is now a friend and I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because it's never leaving. It has built a home inside me and refuses to leave. It grows every time I try to smile or laugh. It pushes the happiness out of me like that is the real disease. I don't know how to stop it from talking to me. During the day it whispers to me. During the night it screams. It screams so loud it's voice echoes and multiplies. It tells me stories of death and how beautiful he is. How soft and caring he is. How painless he is. How gentle he is. It tells me how death enters quietly so not to wake you in your sleep. How death slowly approaches you and softly caresses your hair out of your face. How death, with every touch, slowly strips every piece of life out of you. How death takes your hand and pulls the soul out of your dying, decaying, lifeless body. How death lovingly and carefully kisses your now ghostly lips and tells you everything is going to be okay. But I've always wondered, if death were to visit me, would he shiver when he touched me because I've been so cold for so long. Wouldn't that be something. If I could make death, the iciest thing you can imagine, feel cold for the first time. I wonder if he would weep when he saw everything in my mind. Wouldn't that be something. If I could make death cry. Would he feel remorse. Would he try and fix me rather than **** me. I dream of life after death. I think of how warm I'd feel. How soft the grass would be under my feet. How my jaw would ache from finally being able to smile. How my eyes would be blinded from finally seeing beauty. Wouldn't it be something if this sadness introduced me to death and finally gave me a life I have never lived.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC