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Such a simple phrase, isn't it?
And yet it is such a hard act.
I still want to be with you all the time,
but when we're together I hurt.
I hurt because I want to love you,
and when you touch me in a seemingly innocent way I want to melt into your skin and live there in your safety.
I want to get off work and see a message waiting from you.
But I don't.
And that's why being friends is such a hard thing to follow.
Because I still want you,
but you don't want me.
I was told that writers write about their experiences

and I was so young

I had not yet experienced experiences yet

So I put my pencil down and went to the world

to experience these experiences everyone kept talking about

And I did

I put my heart in front of my mind when I should’ve put my mind in front of my heart

and vice versa

I laughed and spat in the face of fear

I cried at beauty to wonderful to put into words

I pushed boundaries and expectations to the point where they didn’t push back

I reached the sky and was slammed back into the ground and am now struggling to climb back up

but I’m climbing

and I’m told that’s what matters most

That it doesn't matter if you are winning or losing but that you are trying

That you are giving yourself to these experiences that you want and need to experience

And you realize that they were right

The ones who told me to experience experiences

That you do need to experience experiences in order to pick up your pencil and write something someone would

laugh and spit at or

cry from the beauty at or

think pushed boundaries and expectations to the point where they couldn’t push back

or

write something that finally reached the sky

even if it is slammed back into the ground

Then I’ll pick up my pencil and write again.
oh god i'm so sorry
i built you a tsunami
when all you wanted
was a rain shower i
wanted (needed) to
be your answer but
you had no open-
ended questions i
am drunk and i called
someone else
I found this in my journal this morning
you
w i l l
always
be white
noise,    a
thrumming
in my fingertips
as i'm falling asleep,
a long-existing ache in
my chest from not telling
you  i loved  you for  too
many months. i wanted
you- hot  and  cold and
not being able to break
from you- but i cannot
want you anymore,
cannot   miss   you
anymore, cannot
dream about
y   o   u   r
p r o m i s e s
and your laugh,
cannot wake up
hoping you've
walked out of
mymindand
f  o  u  n  d
yourself    in
the extra space
in   my   bed.   i
missyou,though.
how sad is that, to
miss  someone  who
carved me out to   make
room for  w h a t  i thought
was himself and filled me only
with  beautiful  words  that  were
empty                    ­                      
                                    empty
­empty.                          
i want to move on
i want to move
i want to
i want
i
Love *****
   and hurts.
       And for those of us
         that give it freely,
            it hurts the most
               for us.
               But in the end
            we'll keep loving,
         so we can feel
      like we did everything
   we could
to be loved in return.

— The End —