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TS Sep 2018
Sometimes I look back on this life I lived. And it fills me with tears. Nostalgia is a tricky little minx. Sneaks up when you are least expecting it. Filling you with fondness that quickly turns to pain.

I'm longing for the nights we stayed up late like kids in pillow forts. The days we danced in the sun on the street. The moments we wished to last forever.

They didn't.

We didn't.

Suddenly I feel heavy and empty at the same time. Like something inside me is missing and it's absence is a weight on my chest. I dare not say I miss you or miss us or miss the memories because that's the whole key of missing something. You can't miss something that isn't gone. And to be honest, all we had left was to leave each other. That is the reason a part of you will still live on in my soul and I yours. A part of you and me that no longer exists. A part we burried long ago. And that's for the best. It was over. We had outgrown the world that we had created. We became too headstrong, too brave, too focused to live on in each other's lives.

Two hurricanes cannot rage beside each other without merging together as one. Our hurricane lives, independent and stubborn, battled too close to that edge and that is our greatest downfall.

So, storm on, you hurricane of a girl. May your path bring both beauty and destruction all in one. May your bravery startle even yourself. May you power grow and your soul deepen. And may your eyes open each day to see how incredibly and how magnificently you live this life.




-t.s.
TS Mar 2019
I feel you slipping.

Slipping away.



This wouldn't be news to me - another person who goes. I don't blame you really. I'm sure I'm not the best to live with. Always a wild card of emotion. To be fair, I don't even know most times. I was doing well - I am medicated and things are relatively okay. But this sadness just washed over me like a wave - overwhelmed, drenched, depressed.

It is all senses of frustration rolled into one.

I know it's only a matter of time before you leave completely so why delay the inevitable. Just go. Leave. Don't look back and don't pretend to be sorry. I should be alone and I should go far away. Every city is tainted now - smudged with haunting memories.


I don't belong anywhere, so nowhere is where I'll be.



-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I want to feel your bones crush in my hands.
I want to feel your skull crunch under my feet.
I want to cause pain.
I want to make chaos.

I am angry.

I want to break, tear, smash, throw, and shred.
I want you to feel just a fraction of this pain.

But that's not just why I'm angry.
I am angry because I am sad when happy things happen.
I am angry because it doesn't change.
I am angry because it won't change.
I am angry because it all changes so quickly.
I am angry because I am angry.

I can't shut it off or shut it out.

I am consumed.

I am angry.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I'll dump this here so your words stop stinging.

This community ***** the venom out with each poisonous thing I post.


"You're a kind-hearted person with good intentions, but you hurt so many people. You say you're their friend, but you've entirely abandoned them, despite the lengths they've gone to to help you or to support you. If you truly care about someone, reach out to them, even just to say hi. Stop hurting the people who care about you the most."

With no love whatsoever, Some ******* on the Internet



-t.s.
TS Jan 6
Hey there - sleepy head,

Today is a brand new day. You are going to face a countless number things, people, and words today, good and bad. The main thing I want you to remember when you face this day is that you are so incredibly brave. You are fearless in the face of despair and rejoyce with passion at the sound of a good song. You have all the potential of a great day locked inside you, all you need to do is find the key. Be patient with yourself and remind yourself of the little happy things in life - nothing too small. Romanticize this world and everything in it because you only get this one life, lets make it a glorious one.

Love,
You

PS- You can do this. Walk into that building with grace and peace. Let your inner ocean be calmed by the tranquility of the breeze. Yes, you are a hurricane of a girl but only YOU get to decide when to storm.



-t.s.
TS Jun 2017
There is too much wrong with me, she stuttered.

I am too broken to fix.

-t.s.
TS Nov 2019
The sun rises as do my eyes to greet the view.
I have traveled far and often to be right here with you.

I am mesmerized with a heart so still.
Inside I am empty, searching for the will.

Wonder which vacant street will find the beat of my aching heart,
Hoping for an answer, direction, or a start.

Letting go is never easy even when you have the space,
Growing to which I am unsure but I long to see its face.

The look of darkness, the smoke fills my lungs
I know the waking nightmares just begun.

Do not blind me with your beauty, I will never be impressed.
Instead be honest, whole, and true, a fate I will caress.

I live with you for my whole life, and feel my heartbeat start
No matter how I try to flee, we shall never drift apart.




-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
Bokeh flares glitter.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Spirals of white.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Dancing yellow light screeches.
Overwhelming prisms flash through.
Angry heated red sets fire.
Meadow green comforts, too.

I close my eyes and I listen.

I see a masterpiece painted behind my eyes, sitting, waiting to be discovered.

Encovered. Enearthed. A firework display of passion errupting in time

One and two and three and four ...

Blood, oceans, dirt, sun

The words bring the passion and the passion brings the show.


The rhythm creates the motion, gives life to the color.


Color.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Every song has color.
Every song has a display.
All we need to do is close our eyes and wait and

Take the time to listen.

-t.s.
TS Nov 2019
You built me a casket that was too small and expected I would accept it quietly.




-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
Shoved in a plastic grocery bag under the boxes of Christmas decorations is where I found my crazy pants today.

Dusty and discarded, I looked at them. They were softer than I remember.

When I would act irrational or angry or even sleepy, my family gave it the term 'cranky pants' 'angry pants' or ' sleepy pants'. It was a kind way to say, "hey stop acting ridiculous!"

When I was committed to a psychiatric facility, I wasn't allowed to wear the clothes I had on because it posed a threat or hazard to my safety or that of the other patients. They gave you scrubs instead. They were cold and miserable.

One afternoon, I saw one of the other patients wearing sweatpants and I was thrilled to see that was an option. I spent 90% of my time there fighting to get a pair. Finally on day 9, I was gifted a beautiful pair of Heather white sweatpants that had elastic at the bottom and smelled like bleach.

My crazy pants.

I wore them because I was crazy, or so I told myself.

When I was discharged, I got to keep them and would occasionally wear them again but mostly when I felt more bipolar swings happening.

They found their way to a bag in the closet and remained there for months.

Just like my bipolar swings, they hid for a while, stagnant, waiting.

And just like my bipolar swings, they found their way back and now that's all I want to wear. My loony, angry, depressed, crazy pants.

-t.s.
TS Jun 2019
5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?
TS Jul 2017
He asks me, "Are you a danger to yourself? Do you feel you will act on these feelings?"


I was born a danger to myself.



These feelings? If I acted on them, I couldn't tell you.



And if I'm successful, it wouldn't matter to you anyway.

-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
Are you even aware how staggeringly gorgeous you are?

I don't just mean the symmetry of your ****** features or the temperature of your deep blue eyes.

I mean all of you.


How beautiful you are when you run your fingers around the tops of your ears when you are in deep though.

How inspiring your gaze on something that ignites that passion in you.

How stunning the furrow in your brow when someone hurts your loved ones.

How magnificent your voice singing the language of souls.

Even the crinkly skin on your elbows makes me smile because it is you.

Do you know how beautiful you are?

How perfectly unique you are?

The world is a much better place with you in it, gracing us with your infinite radiance.

-t.s.
TS Sep 2019
Wanderlust is such a romanticized term. It has such a beautiful air of brilliance. A word associated with travel and experiencing the best of life. What they don't tell you is the heavy side. The side where you can travel the whole world and still feel nothing. The part that feels aimless and empty. The dizzying feeling of dread that nothing will ever be good enough. If I can't find joy eating cacio e pepe in the heart of Rome, or exploring castles in Scotland, will I ever find joy? It makes you wonder why we wander when nothing seems to fill that hollowness in your heart. Not people, places, food, or things - nothing. Not only am I wandering the world but my soul also wanders for a place to rest, a place to call home. Nothing seems to fit. Nothing seems to feel right. Why am I cursed to wander when to most it is a blessing?



-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I can smell the cigarette you put out on my skin.
The sting, it lingers, but I am used to the pain.
I can feel your gaze, not love but lust from sin.
Still I let you touch me, in hopes I feel sane.

Your hands wander and I want to scream.
Tears are running but I am not hurt, just in pain.
You pay no mind and so it seems
This bed will always creak where you have lain.

I am haunted by the ghost of your touch
Who once took my soul from me.
Desecrated place, my eye are lifeless such
Without hope or depth for eyes to see.

I am finished here, it is over.


I no longer belong to me but you have claimed me for your own and left my lifeless body in the wake.
TS Jan 2018
The candle wax is dripping on the floor. I'm fast asleep on the hardwood, a towel for a blanket, wandering the stories my mind creates.

It's so much better there, in my dreams, much more comforting and whimsical. I can create my safest place, my very own home.

I can wander all over the world for free, touch the greatest wonders and experience culture like no other. I can learn anything without paying a dime or sitting in a classroom. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin or the cool rain kiss my cheeks as I look to the sky. I can be anything, dare I even say ... happy.

I am trapped in a magical world and I never want to leave.

Please don't make me leave.

I don't want to wake up. I don't want to face the dark and the cold. Because when I wake, those candles will be out and my towel will be just a towel.

Here I am warm, I am free, I am strong. Here I can be anything, do anything, feel anything.

Please don't make me wake up.

Please.

- t.s.
TS Sep 2019
I feel things fiercely. A whole new level of pain, sadness, and very occasionally joy. When my heart breaks, it falls from the top of a mountain to the deepest abyss of the earth. When I am hurt, I feel the pain of ten-thousand thorns piercing through my skin, a hundred poisonous snake bites, and 24 years of self deprecating thoughts all stirred into a single tear. Some might call it dramatic, but if they knew the impact it had on my thoughts, my smile,my whole life , they would eat those words as fast as they spit them out.

She's just being dramatic.

She's just too extreme.

She doesn't have control of her emotions.

You make it sound like I chose this, like I continue to choose this. When something "small" happens, like a friend not turning out to who you thought they were, or a moment not living up to its expectations, my whole world quakes. I cannot help it. I can't fix it. I didn't pick this. I didn't want to feel so impacted by the smallest movement. This is the way I was created and believe me, I am trying so hard to fix it - more than I could ever explain. The process of caring enough to fight instead of ending my life is something that might come easy for you, but takes a lot of convincing for me. Please try to understand. And if you don't, that's okay. I don't want to be here anyway.



-t.s.
TS Nov 2019
Ashes rise to the sky
Like fireflies
Reach a height then disappear
Such a short, bright life.


-t.s.
TS Dec 2017
**** this.
**** this whole.

I realize that there is more elegance and eloquence to vocabulary but right now the only works that can escape my lips are

**** this.
Oh. And *******, too.


Sitting here sick
Sick and **** tired of this **** that life keeps throwing my way.
And I just deal with it...
Because I 'have to'.

*******.

'Have to'


Why the **** do I 'have to' be here? I didn't chose this. I didn't ask to be alive, ask to be conscious. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wake up each day and breathe and live and work and cry and sleep.

Well...
Sleep.

I'll keep that one.
Its nice to sleep. There's nothing else to worry about. A sweet serene oasis of mine. A place where I don't answer to the **** of other people.

I give it back. All of it. It doesn't work right. It never did. It never will. People say that I should be happy for the things I have and I say to those people...

**** that.

**** your standards of what I 'should' do or feel or know. **** your opinion on how I treat myself. **** your decision that my life is worth saving because so what. I don't want it. I return it. Take it back and give the whole thing to someone else who wants it.

But make sure you ask them first. Ask them if they want this life. Ask them if they desire to drudge through each day just to make it to the next. Ask them if they want the self-loathing, air of desecration that lingers all around me. Ask them if they'd love to know, everyday, what it feels like to have people NOT choose you over and over and over again. Because I'm sure, if you ask them ...

They'll want to return this life, too.


- t.s.
TS Mar 2019
Some days I dream of the way my feet would hang off the side of a roof top garden ledge
Crisp air cooling my toes.


Some days I wish I was hanging from a tree
Lifeless, still, and calm.


Some days I wish I was at least just hanging in there,
Instead of feeling empty and numb.



-t.s.
TS Jun 2017
Help me, I am drowning in my own self hating words.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
Clings around my neck.

Help me, I am losing on this battlefield alone.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
Covers up my screams.

Help me, I am fading into darkened monsters, now.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.

It is time to say goodbye.

-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
How is it that I feel numbness and such pain all at once?

I feel the tears welling in my eyes but they never break through. I feel the pressure, the weight on my chest but tenseness all over my body. I feel angry, hurt, sad, and nothing all at the same time.

I can't focus on anything, I am debilitated. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't be.
TS Jun 2017
"You're fine? Are you sure? I know you."


No, I'm not fine.

I'm never sure.



And if you knew me, you'd know that.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I won't eat
I won't sleep
I won't brush my teeth

Instead I write.

I won't cry
I won't laugh
I won't see my friends

Instead I write.


Eating does not fill me. When I try to sleep, I toss and turn. No need to brush my teeth when I won't go outside.

Stories are my nourishment. I drift off to dreamland in prose. My soul is cleansed with antonyms and synonyms, similes and metaphors.

Crying brings no freeing feeling. Laughing holds no joy. Friends will soon just leave me and take with them my heart.

I pour my tears into a song to convey all that I feel. I laugh along with Shakespeare as he inspires every play. All my friends are pencils because they're useful and won't leave. And if one happens to skip away, break or reach an end; aisle 4, below the staplers, I can always buy some more.
TS Jun 2017
9:47 I sit on my couch, staring at my bed.

I'm not supposed to lay down until at least 10 o'clock.

It's supposed to "ward away depressive states" so I don't "stay in bed all day long."


9:52 If I go just a little early, that won't be a big deal, right?

No, I better listen. I better try.


9:55 Only five more minutes.

That's funny. We used to use that to avoid going to bed, now I'm using it to count down until I can.


9:58 Do I have everything I need? The temperature is set so I won't get too hot? I've got my glass of water, my phone charger, my fuzzy socks?


10:00 Sweet relief.


I'll never leave you again.

I promise.  


"Depressive state", my ***.  This is the only place I can be safe. The only place I'm home.


-t.s.
TS May 2019
This world is full of people who will hate you, drag you down, and rub dirt in your wounds. There are also many who will show you love and kindness.

I ask you, is it worth it? Is it worth it to go to bed every night hoping you don't wake up in the morning just to have a friend?

Is it worth it to feel the overwhelming urge to jump when you know the bottom is full of sharp rocks just to have a few happy photos?

Is it worth it to loathe your existence so much that you wish you would just stop breathing already just to take in the cool air that escapes from a crashing wave?

Is it worth it?


- t.s.
TS Sep 2019
The light touch of the silk on my breast brings me back to you.

It brings me back to that dance floor with my body pressed up against yours like the cover of a book and it's pages.

It brings me back to your fingertips - a stone skip across my skin.

It brings me back to your hands holding my face and your lips on mine.

It brings me back to that night in the snow where your body was the only source of heat I needed.

You are a chapter that I will never forget - the one that I will reread over and over again until the words come to life off the page.



-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
I messed up.

Big time.


I should have never left, I should have fought harder.

Life was simpler with you, easy even.

Sure you were a storm and I was unfortunate enough to be caught in your wake but boy did I ever enjoy the thrill.

I am so much less now. Far less of a person.

I gained weight, I chopped off all my hair, I hate myself and wish it dead, I am speckeled in anxiety written all over my face in the visible blemishes, I am worthless and dull, I am so much less of a person now.

I am sorry for leaving, for wanting better for myself

because even if you destroyed me, at least I served a purpose.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I need to speak but it weighs so heavy on my mind.

"They don't love you."

"You aren't good enough."


I can't work, I can't sleep, I can't breathe.
This feeling is suffocating me slowly.
Let me out, let me speak, let me be who I am without judgement because I already judge myself enough for the both of us.

-t.s.
TS Nov 2019
T,

I won't be there in life for all the moments where you might need my advice so here are all the words of wisdom you might need.

1. Don't settle for less than you deserve - there are only a certain number of days you have on this Earth, don't waste them with things that make you feel half full.

2. Find the little moments and celebrate them, don't wait for the big things to enjoy life because every sucess, every joyful moment is worth celebrating.

3. Be patient and open your eyes to see God work in your life. Not everything will happen at the speed you want it to but if you calm your mind and heart, the period in-between great changes will be one of reflection and peace rather than unsteady nervousness.

4. Give your heart space to heal and room to grow. You will have many things in life that touch your heart, good and bad. Give them time to make their mark, learn from them and don't forget the lessons.

5. You will walk around this life as a whole person with spaces to fill. Someone will come along and fit right in those spaces, keep your eyes and heart open to recognize them and let them fill you up with love, acceptance, and joy. But don't forget that you are whole without them, too. You do not need someone to 'complete' you because you are whole all on your own.

6. Go out into the world and experience life before it's gone. Love greatly, pray deeply, give endless, and know that you are special and worth more than than all the riches in the world.

7. Remember those who love you that have gone before you and know that we are watching over you, smiling wide at all your success and crying with you on the hard days. We hope you live a full life but also can't wait to see you when we meet again one day in heaven.

Love, Tom
TS Aug 2017
I just lost my best friend.

This person, this human, with whom I shared my whole life.

I thought we were inseparable. I thought wrong.


Now you are just a stranger. We pass on the street and you don't even glance in my direction.

I get it. Its all my fault really. I'm so ******* broken that I don't blame you for leaving. I am too much to handle, there will be no return on investment or stock payouts. I will never be anything. You bought high, cut your losses and sold low. It will stay there; the low.

I don't blame you for leaving me. I wish I could leave me, too.

-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
Today I realized that there is more to life than you.

You may be the sunrise, but I am the sunset. People sit by windows and in parks and travel the world to watch my show.

You might be the tide but honey, I'm the rain that makes the flowers bloom.

You may be the breeze but darling I'm the stars; infinite, dazzling and the best wish you ever made.

Today I realized there is more to life than you;

there's my life, too.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
LSD to hallucinate
Marijuana for stillness
Alcohol to numb the pain


All I wonder is

Who needs drugs when we have music?


-t.s.
TS Jun 2017
I don't like new notebooks.

I mean, I like new, beautiful, clean, pristine notebooks,
but I don't like using them.

I don't want to ruin it.

I open up to the first page and it's so blank, so white, so pure,
there's not an imperfection in sight.

I don't want to use it because I don't want to mess it up. I want it to stay perfect, and beautiful.
I don't want that inevitable ****** drawing or poem to **** it up.
I don't want my uncleanliness, my messiness to spread to something so perfect.

I do end up using it. If I didn't, I'd just have a bunch of empty notebooks lying around which honestly I'd prefer.
But I take forever to do it, to break the seal.

I have to have the perfect thing to ruin perfection because if it's not perfect, it's not worth it to ruin it.

It goes two ways though:

The first entry is perfect, beautiful, inspiring, deep,
and then I never use that book again.
Because now it's perfection is magnified.
I couldn't possibly follow it up with something better or just as good,
and it's quite possible that the more I try to come up with something good to match, the initial piece deteriorates and it becomes disappointing, thus resulting in the notebook not being used.

The second way this goes is the first entry is trash.
It's disgraceful and I want to tear it out
but suddenly the book becomes less daunting, less intimidating because now, it's imperfect.
Every entry to follow doesn't have to live up to some grand standard.
But I'm reminded everytime I use that book that I failed, that I created garbage.
It makes everything that comes after, not as good as what I want to do, it lacks passion.
If I tear out the initial entry, the cycle starts over.

No matter which way you spin it, we just don't get along. I end up with a bunch of half used, disappointing books sitting around haunting me as I walk by.
A notebook is reflective of who you are,
it displays the deepest parts of you.

What if your unhappy with what you see on the page?

What if what you see isn't you?

What if, this blank, empty page of nothingness is better than what you are?

Why would you want to ruin something so pure and perfect with your mess?

Because nothing you ever write, draw, sketch, compose or create on it will ever be as good as it's once held purity.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
How it hurts to know, to see
that I won't ever have the words flow, like you, through me.

My sentence structure, lacking
thoughts toss upon the sea, the sail we're tacking.

There is no passion to my words,
just novice, vice sent to up to the birds.

My strong desire, though, is meek
to dance with words until my hand grows weak.

Please be patient whilst I learn,
to write, to feel this wistful nocturne.

-t.s.
TS Jun 2017
Because we're all just a little messed up.

Some of us are a lot of messed up.

We hide and hope people never see it but what can we do?

How do we hide who we are?



And who we are is nothing.

-t.s.
TS Jun 2019
I have an intensly difficult time opening up to anyone. I have been burned so many times, yes, but this isn't about that.

It's about the way you will look at me when I tell you how my mood swings from happily eating ice cream for dinner to throwing out all the food in my house because I should stop eating forever.

It's about the things you will say when I tell you I want to drive my car off a bridge the day after we had a grand time at happy hour.

It's about the energy I will feel when I explain why I don't let myself get too happy anymore because I am afraid that will be it for me - the best memory I will ever have.

It's about the people you will call and the places you will put me when I finally say how I feel about my life and my desire for it to end.

It's all about what I know will happen.

This is why I stay quiet and I cry alone in my bed. This is why I put a smile on each day and break down as soon as I step through my front door. This is why I will never tell you how I feel because I know the moment I do, life will never be the same for us again.

In all reality, everything I do is to protect the ones I love. I stay alive because I couldn't bear to put anyone through the hassle of dealing with my dead body. I keep quiet because I can't burden you with my words. I cover it all up, keep it shoved down deep because I will never open up this storm of emotion to a person who lives life in such an unapologetically perfect way.

I am here because of you. I am still breathing because of you. But I am still hoping that one day, unprompted, you give me permission to leave. THAT is when I will breath a sigh of relief.


-t.s.
TS Jun 2017
I am not smart like the other girls.

I am not as pretty,
nor as charming,
or sweet.

I am not like the other girls.


I never will be.

- t.s.
TS Aug 2017
It travels through my bones, leaving my body weak. It stings my jaw line as my teeth clench. It makes lifeless my shoulders, my arms, my legs.

I am defeated.

The pain is overwhelming.

-t.s.
TS Aug 2018
I come home alone yet again.

I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.

That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.

Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.

I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.

But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.

I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.

I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.
TS Aug 2017
I'm in a thousand ******* pieces and I just stare at the mess, blankly.

I've always hated puzzles, especially when so many pieces are missing.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
'Likes' are not hugs.

Comments are not kisses.

Views are not a hand holding mine.

And yet I crave this attention more than anything. Eyes stretched wide, I live for that next hit, the next 'like'. I lose sleep over how many views I need to keep going. I am a wasteland of media, searching for any signs of life.

I am despirate.


I am addicted.



I am far from social.

-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
That violin plays and I am reminded.

I remember those sweet moments with you, we were inseperable.

I feel the warmth in my heart from when we would dance together, from our late night laugh sessions.

I feel the closeness of our hearts that this song brings to me.

We were the best of friends, sisters even.

I close my eyes and this song takes me to a land I've forgotten, a place where nothing mattered but your smile beside mine.

I feel my heart flutter, longing for the past burried so far below now.



A sole tear rolls down my cheek as this song comes to an end

because if I have learned anything in this lifetime it is that even the most beautiful, powerful and unapologetically fierce things come to and end.

-t.s.
TS Dec 2019
Lay on your hand 'til it falls asleep so when you strum your guitar it's a stranger's melody.




-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
Me: walks out into the street

Driver: "Hey kid! Get out of the road! You're gonna get hurt!"

Me: "I never had the chance to be a kid. And getting hurt? That's the idea."

-t.s.
TS Aug 2017
My brain rattles around and I'm lost on what to say, what to do, where to start. There is a mountain of things on my list of life. I don't want the list, I dont want anything on it, I don't want life.

I just want to run. Run very far away forever and ever until the end.

-t.s.
TS Jul 2017
I want to be hit by a car.

I want it to run me over twice just to make sure I'm dead.

I want to get in a fight so I come up on the wrong end, dead.

I want to feel a cold knife against the muscles, the bones.

I want to be crushed by a tree or rhinoceros, doesn't matter what.

I want to feel my bones snap and my skin tear.


I want to feel anything.
I want to feel nothing.
I want to be gone.

-t.s.
Don't call the psych ward, I won't go back. I'm not acting on it, just feeling those feels.
TS Nov 2019
The wind plays a symphony that only the silent can hear.
Close your eyes, put your mind at peace, and open you heart to the sound.
Let the breeze fill your lungs and lift you higher.
Hear the rustle of the leaves high above and the gusts whistling a tune.
Windchimes add percussion while the hum of the earth beneath your feet casts a steady beating of your heart.
Breathe in, breathe out becomes the harmony.
And the wind roars the melody.
You are the conductor, the one in control.
You guide the song through its journey and take a victorious bow.
And when you stand and look out again and wonder why it has to go,
Remember that there will always been another symphony storm



-t.s.
TS Jan 2018
You are the color of a kiss,
passionate and complex;
A cold, tall glass of water
just after you've had ***

You are the color of a road trip,
with windows down and sunnies on.
The color of a love ballad,
or a fulfilling and perfect yawn

You are the color of a silk petal,
floating to the Earth,
A limited edition coin
and all that it is worth.

You are the color of adventure,
and freshly baked apple pie;
The color of snowfall on your face,
drifting down from the night sky

You are the color of paints
that stores just do not sell;
A sit-in or a marching protest,
fervent and raising hell.

You are the color of the strength
that arises with the dawn;
And when a king is overtaken
by a simple little pawn.

You are the colors found in everything:
extraordinary, nonetheless,
But more than all of that combined,
a fact I must confess;
You are the color of love and life,
with all that magic you possess.




- t.s.
TS Jun 2019
That split second is when you know the truth -
It's life altering in the most subtle of ways.
Most people wouldn't give a second glance -
But I feel it all and start to count the days.


I can tell from the first thought how this will end -
Whether we fade away or go up in a flame.
The connection comes through like a freight train -
Here's hoping we don't end in the same way that we came.


I've never done things with one foot in and one out -
My style is always being present and driving full force.
I came storming through and you caught up
Now you've decided that's enough and sought another course.


I blame you, really. You saw me coming.
You knew from the beginning all about me.
I've never thrown a smoke screen or hidden my face
I've been an open book, every page turning to see.


Your judgement and cruelty is unmatched -
A deep reminder of how much I openly trust.
It just keeps raining so heavily, down the windows
I sit and stare as the pane begins to rust.


I may never figure this out and truly that's okay -
Knowing everything is overrated anyway.
I do however, know myself and am true to me -
I can call out my mistakes and failings on any single day.


Now I ask you, have you thought about who you are?
Have you considered your role in all this?
You preach 'no judgement' but it's a task you can't seem to fit -
Is there a thing about our friendship that you would even miss?


Look into the mirror and study what you see -
Look at the lines, the freckles, the shadows, and brows.
But look further, past the outer layer that you show the world -
Would you want to be your friend? With all that you are now?


Once you know the answer to these questions -  
And reflect upon what you see -
Remember these moments and how they end
And let that teach you how to be.



-t.s.
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