You are a book.
One with a beautiful font and an amazing plot.
Filled with such extravagant words and wrapped by the most humble of covers.
The temptation to read you is unbearable but I am afraid that I am not advanced enough to read such an astounding piece of literature.

Im angry.
Angry that you cant seem to understand the meaning of get out or stay away.
Angry that you still hang around in the back if my mind.
But you're not the only one im angry at.
Angry at myself for not building a taller, stronger wall.
Im angry at my mind for not trying harder to kick you out.
There's just too much anger and I'm too proud to let it out.
This toxic anger thays combined with sadness is too dangerous for the world.
So I keep it locked up inside, away from you.
Its something that is making me a monster but I'd rather it be that way than risk seeing you get
hurt.

This weird feeling in me.
It ******* hurts.
Why the **** cant you just leave me alone.
Im tired of crying over something
that probably meant nothing to you.
Im not even joking.
Like, what the **** just get out.
But no matter how much I hate to admit it, I want you to stay.
And because of that, my mind is just so ****** up right now.
No matter how much I try to hate you, I end up still missing you and for that this endless cycle of
hating and missing repeats itself till  god knows when.
I want it to end but yet I dont.

i wish people still wrote letters,

i wish we still penned down our thoughts,
so that your tear stains could guide me to your heart
and the coffee or wine stains to those sleepless nights

so that the scent of the sheet could tell me
what perfume was your new favourite
and your lazy handwriting showed how tired you were

theres so much more of you on paper,
and theres so much of you i miss.

Blue skies.
They were your favorite.

When the sky resembled
the ocean and it was full of clouds.

They were your sanctuary.
Looking up whenever in distress
or confusion.

No matter how hard someone tried
to give you something that wasnt blue, they would always fail.

Blue was your happy colour; your calm colour. You look at it when you cry,when in anger and in need of cheering up.

But for some reason, you always make an exception for the blazing fiery sunsets.

They're so far apart from blue,
but you stay outside to
enjoy it anyway.

You like yellow but
I am violet.
The real question is,
why would a girl
that loves yellow to the
core of her heart,
would even bother to
pick a violet in a field of sunflowers.