There are so many types of beautiful.
There's the one you see in the magazines.
The one that is as artificial as it is mesmerising.
There's the one that hits you like a jolt.
A sudden flash of something, maybe sunlight.
A ray of bright that blinds and inspires.
But you are my favorite type of beautiful.
(m.a.)
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
Lately it seems,
you're into so many
different things.
While I've been sitting
on the sidelines of your
own self distruction.
I'm worried you'll
lose yourself.
I'm worried we'll
grow apart.
Because this person you're
looking for may not be
what you want.
and while you struggle
to find yourself,
I already know
who you are.
(m.a.)
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
I am not afraid to
fall in love.
I am afraid to
fall out of love.
I am afraid to forget what I
once felt for someone,
because I know what it's like
to be forgotten.
(m.a.)
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
A kiss on my wrist
won't fix the scars
on my heart.
(m.a.).
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
I understood.
Or maybe, I just said I did.
For the sake of dropping the subject
that made me feel so bitter.
I'm so happy for you.
Or maybe, I just said I was.
Because that is the right thing to do,
for someone you love.
I know it will hurt less when it's over.
Or maybe, I just said I knew.
Since lately the only things that make it numb,
are lies.
(m.a.)
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
Don't talk about
depression,
like it's something
you know.
It isn't a game
that is easily beaten.
It is a battle you
constantly
fight.
It comes in flashes
more of
darkness,
than of
light.
It isn't beautiful.
The scars aren't
pure,
lovely,
or a sign of worth.
They are a sign of
hurt,
in the most
disgusting,
repulsive,
brutal way.
You took that razor,
you sliced your skin.
It wasn't to
show your pain
to the world.
It was to punish
yourself,
for being the inevitable...
you.
And if you find that
beautifully tragic,
look a little closer,
listen a little harder.
You have
no idea
what you're seeing.
(m.a.)
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:28 AM UTC
There's something about a pair of
old sneakers, that is just so hard to let go.
They were a part of you, for so many days.
They hold every
puddle you stepped in,
every blade of grass.
The gravel, the mud, the sand, the pavement;
it's all there.
So maybe it's not about
possesion,
maybe its just about the travels, and the memories, the ones you don't want to let go.
(m.a.)
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
Go ahead.
Judge me on
my mistakes.
But the days
are seconds,
and the
years are
minutes,
and I can
afford to
**** up once
in a while...
(m.a.)
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
3:16 am
I am missing you.
I am missing the
still beat
of your
heart.
I am missing the
way your body
fits beside
mine and
warms me.
I am missing
your sleepy
green eyes
and the way they
becon me
back to my
slumber.
3:17 am
I am missing you.
(m.a.)
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
Its a tidal wave of sadness. I feel it creep up. I feel it swallow me completely, blurring my vision, what I once saw as important, now a figment.
This hurt is too much to bear and with every pounding heartbreak, I can tell. I can see that the end is near. But I refuse to plummet off the edge.
I'll be stronger than I am today, tomorrow. But tomorrow the me that I was today, will be washed away, the tidal wave collecting a new captive.
(m.a)
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC