i just want to be
your sunshine again
i'll try and keep trying, i refuse to stop trying, i love you
sometimes self-care looks like
blocking their contact
not because you've moved on
but because you haven't.
"What, you just love me
and then move on..
is that what you do?"
They weren't steps away from her
they were paces
and in an instant, the arrow flew
There is a seam,
if you are able to see
as there are terracotta dreams
we were all meant to be freed
Broken shards fell to the ground
and inside of every single piece
is all of the 'hers'
she thinks that she needs to be
Not sure if it is the aim
or the flight of the arrow
that brings about the aloneness
of an unspeakable, heart sorrow
and these.. the sufferings of hell.
Chloe is not dead--
because left standing
when all else fell
is her spirit's core, now glowing
no longer hidden
within the confines
of her terracotta shell
Ah, beautiful Chloe
baby, there were times..
its never-ending flowing
Believe again in that, my beautiful
not the shell.
Anything is better than this hatred.
I'm looking forward to
an eternity spent in hell.
it's a broken kinda feeling..
There’s a time to turn the page and start a new chapter and there’s a time to close the book and start a new story..
love is painful. love is endless waiting for someone to turn back when you too, are walking away. or trying, at least. but what is relief without knowing how pain chokes your breath?
love doesn't know what he wants.
love is confusion and a pendulum of emotions. Love doesn't want to hurt people, but when it comes to me, love forgets that my heart bleeds too.
is love unrequited? maybe. maybe I don't want to accept it. maybe love loves someone else's smile now. maybe love's heart doesn't drop when he sees me in class, maybe love ignores what his heart is whispering.
maybe love will see this and relive his scrapbook of us. maybe love will confront the right people. or maybe he will scroll past this.
unrequited love is painful, but being drawn in and left is **** near-apocalyptic. if nothing else, we made good breakup poetry.
maybe love lacks courage. maybe that's an easier excuse for me to accept. it is far easier to imagine a heart that cowers from the truth rather than one whose truth I don't recognise. is it time to walk away without looking back? I just want to lie to myself tonight. but then again, can you blame me?
you ask if i still love you
and i tell you