Relationships are not couches. I don’t want to be comfortable. I want to wake up at 3 AM shaking because I had a dream you found someone better. I want my chest to ache when it’s pressed up against yours and I want my heart to beat anxiously when I see you.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
don't believe the views of society:
there is nothing poetic about heartbreak
there is nothing beautiful about laying on the bathroom floor shaking from the memories that flood into your mind,
craving the embrace of the one who promised he'd never leave,
gasping for air because you don't know how to keep breathing,
throwing up a dinner that didn't digest correctly because of the steadfast ball in your stomach,
falling asleep in class because your nights are consumed with thoughts of him realizing he lost the best thing he ever had,
not leaving your house because everything reminds you of him
from the song on the radio that he used to hate
to the place where you went on your first date and he was too nervous to kiss you
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
are hands and knees that hit the floor
and crawl back towards what i’d sworn off before
weak, or brave
is it braver to run in the opposite direction
or to stay even when it stings
because when we’re in your car
i know what the crickets outside
are thinking, is it true
am i throwing white sheets over old reminders
written in dust, small whispers leading up
to an attic where all the hurt and confusion is stored
in cardboard boxes labelled DO NOT OPEN
right now i’m sitting on the stairs
with my back against the door
and i’m looking at your face, your face, your face
searching for something maybe i didn’t see before
and the words you wrote at two in the dark
made me miss you when i promised i didn’t,
and i want to stay, but when i try
to convince myself that you’re right,
that pushing you away is the easy way out,
that what we feel is a reason to keep each
other around,
i still find it hard to believe myself
when i tell myself
that i am being strong
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
I have yet to understand the way I cannot fathom my feelings
I express surface emotions with almost too much ease but
it's the things I feel at 2am when I know you're asleep and not dreaming of me
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
I want you to need me in the middle of the night because you're aching
I want you to push the hair out of my eyes because you need to see the outline of my face not because it's tangled in between our mouths
I want you to fill this emptiness inside of my chest
I want you to learn the deep crevices of my soul
I want you to know that I can't hold your gaze without feeling insecure
and I want you to tell me that you'll never tire of looking into my hazel eyes and pressing your lips against mine
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
Somewhere along the way a blue wire crossed a red wire and my brain leaked purple, engulfing me in a haze of anxiety and strife. I like who I am; I like my brain the way it's wired. But I ponder of normality and how people can breathe easily when they are home alone, or how knots do not grow in their stomachs when their eyes lock with a strangers'. I wish someone could rewire my brain because then maybe the pit in stomach would be filled and I would sleep instead of staring at the cracks on my ceiling.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
you'll never quite grasp
the aching in my chest
when I think of you not
loving me as much as
I do love you
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
that cold February night my heart shattered
February 21st felt the pain so heavy in my chest
I thought I would never recover but
he came back with promises like flowers
as my trust blossomed beautifully
he came back with apologies like songs
as my heart beat to the tune of his
the melody of our love flowing through my veins
like a drug that made me feel infinitely lost
in this world we had
until I heard the word February
my ears rang, my chest tightened
that cold night with frozen tears
I began to see the wilting promises
and how the apologies skipped like
scratches on the record
the rush in my veins no longer
lit my eyes up, it made them weary
nothing was different
I was still in love with the boy
who tainted my heart
and I was letting him do it again
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
It’s late afternoon
I catch your eye
hoping you’ll hold my gaze
you never do
you look to the side
or to a friend
or to the dust on the floor
anywhere that does not include
looking into the wide eyes
of the girl who sobbed
when she broke your heart
All I want is your gaze, but
I know that the day you resolve
to hold eye contact
that your gaze will be empty,
the same way I left you feeling
that warm June day.
The day you understood that
I was terrified of looking into
someone’s eyes and telling the
truth
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC