It’s so strange how life works: You want something and you wait and wait and feel like it’s taking forever to come. Then it happens and it’s over and all you want to do is curl back up in that moment before things changed.

Dust is you must, but wouldn't be better

To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much
time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to
climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out
there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind
in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it't not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust

I didn't like *** with him sober.
I couldn't stomach the taste if him
without spitting a bottle of wine
or a few lines.
Not because I didn't like the way he looked;
I liked how his body felt
and his mother didn't have to lie
when she said she had a handsome son,
but his voice didn't sooth me
and his words didn't comfort me.
He was an empty jukebox,
blaring noise.
He kept me warm when winter
was sneaking through the cracks of my
window.

It is said,
The way they leave you
Says everything you ned to know about them.

Let's just say..
After all those years spent together,
I guess I never really knew you at all.

They have no idea,
how much you think of them.
You have no idea how much
someone is thinking of you.
And,
May be this way,
we are all
secretly
loved
by
someone.
And,
it’s
true.

The hardest lesson you will ever learn will be to love yourself.
But you can do it.
There will always be days when you hate yourself, days when you wish you had never been born.
But darling, you are beautiful, and if Shakespeare had met you, you would’ve inspired his 18th sonnet, and
If Monet had known you, he would’ve given up painting water lilies and chosen to paint you instead.
I know it’s hard to love yourself, but sometimes it’s okay to be a little selfish with your love.
When you begin to feel worthless, remember that the stars died for you. You are made of elements that are thousands of years old, elements that make up every atom of your being.
When you want to cut your wrists, remember that the souls of stars live in your veins.
Don’t **** them. Live for the life you always wanted but were too scared to pursue.
Live for you.
Live for me.
Live for every person who has ever loved you,
For the people who have come before you, so that you may be here today. Live for the fire that burns in your soul,
That tells you: keep going, you’re almost there, just a little farther

Just so you know
I still think about you.

I still talk about you.

I still tell our story because it’s a beautiful story about growth and change, experience…

Just so you know,

I still check up on you.

I still have your number.

I still wish you the best.

It’s just that now I can see that you don’t want to change.

And it really wasn’t your fault.

Truth be told, there is actually no one to blame.

I just changed…

Just so you know,

I still whisper to the wind, whisper to the rain: ‘stay strong’

And I look at the clouds that are now coming your way, searching for a promise that you’ll get that message…

Just so you know,

I don’t feel the guilt anymore.

I don’t remember the feeling.

I don’t remember your voice.

I don’t remember your smile.

You were just a strong illusion,

A strong fantasy

Now disappearing.

But just so you know,

I still think that you’re wonderful.

I still think you’ll find your way.

I still believe in you.

And just so you know,

Every time when I look at the calendar

And I notice that number,
 23,

I’ll send you a thought.

I’ll send you a warm hug.

I’ll send you my positive energy.

Because even tho we cut ties,

You’re still my favorite dream that I was dreaming wide awake.

And even tho you’ll never see this

And it won’t mean anything to you anyway,

I just want you to know

That I’m forever grateful

For having you in my life

You call me baby

And I sleep on the right side of the bed

And you love me you love me you love me

You’ve got a smile that I keep

In my left side pocket 

And this feels like a long time coming

This love is soft and it’s 
hard to keep it all inside of me
And I know you get scared

Because sometimes his lack of love pushes its way back up into my throat and I push you away and you don’t get that
I’m just begging you not to go away
And I get scared

Cause for me love hasn’t always meant staying

With him love meant trying to fit myself into a mold that I didn’t belong in
And I see you with other girls whose smiles come easier and whose love comes nicer

And i get scared that one night you’ll want to have the right side of the bed 
to yourself again
But this love is soft and 
it’s meant to last

I’m here to stay if you are

I’m here to stay if you are.

And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so ****** personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. **** it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.

I write because I miss what you used to say, and the way your voice used to shut down mine. I write because there are things you used to do that still play repeat in my head, and I can’t help but write. I write because I miss you and it seems like you don’t. I write because a lot I have to say but so little you want to hear. I write because very many are the things that remind me of you. I write because you don’t know I do. I write because that’s all I can do about us. I write because I want those who read to wish for us but mostly I write because you're ******* shattering my heart by pushing me away and there is nothing to fix it else than spilling down words heavy to carry.

sometimes, the moon aches for her. this is the kind of secret she will never know. something about her reminds you of stardust, of burning bright, of happiness, and every time you look at her, the world becomes a little less heavy. there are nights where you wish you could be the sky just so you could be a bit closer to her. you say her name, and the wind sighs, and until morning, you will dream of her.

"I hope we last. I hope we do.

But if we don't, this is how I want you to remember me:

I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I'd recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you.

Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove both of us.
Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn't stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it's any consolation I allowed myself to have them too.

If it comes to it I don't want you to remember the ending.

Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew."

I’ve waited a hundred years
But I’d wait a million more for you
Nothing prepared me for
What the privilege of being yours would do
If I had only felt the warmth within your touch
If I had only seen how you smile when you blush
Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
Well I would have known
What I was living for all along
What I’ve been living for
Your love is my turning page
Where only the sweetest words remain
Every kiss is a cursive line
Every touch is a redefining phrase
I surrender who I’ve been for who you are
For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart
Though we’re tethered to the story we must tell
When I saw you, well I knew we’d tell it well
With a whisper we will tame the vicious seas
Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees

As you get older,
You really start to understand more about
Why people drink the night away,
Smoke their lungs black,
or throw themselves off buildings.

"A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me the most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 16 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That's their lover's once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer ****, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes."

Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence…

I know that you didn’t mean it and
I know that you think saying sorry will make it better
But that’s not how the world works.
It’s an imperfect world and feelings just don’t go away that fast.
So either you never really loved me or you’re just hiding it because you’re scared.
Well let me tell you, hiding something will get you nowhere
And lying sure as hell won’t make you happy, So go ahead and leave me,
But in the end you will see your mistake and come back.
But you know what?
When that time comes I won’t be here.

What if I was never born?

Would the world change around you, 
Every single little detail fading away like a really bad dream?
What if you never even wanted me?

I was some babe in your womb,

And once I broken out of my prism you handed me off to another.
What if our lives were perfect?

Too perfect to even know what reality really was,

No scars or nightmares to call my own.
What if I wanted to end it?

Leaving all those nights I cried,

All the turmoil that I dragged my body into every night I was alone.
What if I lived? 

Pushing myself every day past the tears,

Forcing my body to be happy for at least half a second in the 525,600 minutes we spent living our everyday lives.
What if I was actually happy?

Because you decided to have me.

You decided to keep me.

Because my life was never perfect.

Because I didn’t end it.

Because I finally realized that living those 525,600 minutes wasn’t so bad.
Because I decided not think of the What ifs

It is feeling homesick

In your own bed

In the house you’ve lived in

Your entire life

Because home

Hasn’t been this town

Since the first time your smile

Took my breath away.

Home became 
the passenger seat of your car
And the way you said
“I love you”
And

“You are so beautiful”

Without ever opening your mouth 

Home was your mouth

Home was your laughter

Your hands

Home was how you talked about your dreams
Home was the summers

I naively imagined

Might be full of

County fairs

Counting stars

And watching fireworks

With you 

And now,

Home is a place

You took with you 
when you left

I wonder 

If now that you are far away

In a different city

If you too feel homesick

For more than this small town

The reason depression is literally the worst is not because of the soul-crushing sadness or the wanting to **** yourself or the self harm or all the violent and extreme emotions that come with dealing with this particular mental handicap.
It’s the long and painful stretches of days of weeks of months where you’re not really depressed, but you kind of just exist. The time you spend sitting in bed aimlessly browsing the Internet instead of finishing that video game you thought was fun or going out with a friend to see a movie or getting up and doing your laundry. You exist, and it’s okay, but you’re not really sure why. You’re not doing anything productive when you have all the time in the world to be doing it. You feel like you’re missing out on life, but at the same time you feel that it doesn’t really matter. That’s the worst kind of depression.