we don't get to choose who we love,
and as i chose to love you
i watched you turn into a friend
into a lover,
and into a stranger.
i just wish the process would've gone slower.
maybe then i could've enjoyed it all.
sat back and watched as our story unfolded.
and ended.

music was my serenity, but now all i hear is lyrics of you.

You can crave to have someone elses qualities while in the meantime someone else is longing to be as gifted as you in some way.

Never fully satisfied with yourself, you want to be bigger and better.

Because you choose to hear out the people that think you aren't good enough and need better characteristics, and not the ones that think you are beautiful just the way you are.

People get tired of you being sad, and then they leave, even when they promised they wouldn't.

To most she was broken.
To herself she was just fragments lying carelessly among the floor.
But to him she was life.
In his mind he took all of her pieces and put them together.
He never saw her as anything more than her and that was enough.
He only ever saw the good about her.
He was blinded by her beauty and wit.
And she was blinded with who she really was, behind closed doors the person only she saw, disgusted with herself.
But he'd never be.
He'd only ever love her and see her as life.
The only life he'd ever want to lead.

i made a friend… she left me in the end.

but i had her for a quick moment.

….then was that friendship?

don't wait.. because it always ends up being too late.

Mama said ''Don't trust boys they'll leave you with a broken heart.''
I said ''Yeah well that's alright I've been broken from the start.''

Life experiences make good stories.
So I suppose I'm a great story teller.

Don’t compare yourself to others. Compare yourself to the person you were yesterday.

I long for touch but yet I flinch when someone gets too close.
I suppose it's the feeling of fear that overcomes me.
Or the voices that flood my memory of the people saying 'You'll never be pretty enough and your soul is too dark.'
I guess I'll just spend my days basking in the wretched comments and the feeling of never being good enough.
I'm displeased when I look in the mirror, and I start to understand what the people say.
Maybe get some surgery and all of the pain will go away.
But even if I did that the rude remarks would still be there.
And I'd still be heavy with all of the weight on my shoulders.

You never see the beauty in the ugly thing staring you in the face, whether it be what you see in the mirror, or the thing that you hold in your hands to end it all.
The metal of the gun; shiny, sparkly, ready to please whomever fires.
The strands of the rope; strong, reliant.
The grain of the pills; slipping you into your permanent dream.
Or the face that you and many others see.
Different to whoever looks at you.
Maybe to some beautiful, wise and pure.
But to you, a monster, never pleased and never pleasing.
You will choose to never see the beauty in you but in the others.
Because you see the world as art.
And you as the starving artist whose career never took off.

I now know why they call it heartbreak.
Not because your heart literally breaks but because your chest becomes so heavy you feel as if your heart has sank into oblivion and shattered.
Every moment from now on when you feel love you'll be so uneasy and your heart will be so hollow you can't feel anything for anyone.
The thought of being hurt again will rise as will your barrier blocking everyone out.
I now- I now know why they say that you need time.
I now know why most people aren't in contact with their ex's.
I now know why people jump off of buildings and invade their blood stream with poison of all kind.
I now know why people throw the word love around, or why they don't say it at all.
I now know that no matter how many "I'm sorry"'s there are they fix nothing.
I now know that this is not a phase.
I now know that my heart is too big for my sleeve and I'm filing an eviction notice.
I know now what I did not know before.. and boy were they right when they said curiosity killed the cat.

I hate the saying ’You have to love yourself before you can love others.’ Because you never even truly know who YOU are entirely. So how can you love somebody you don’t know? Lots of people do it very easily. But it’s just hiding from the reality of it all, of not knowing who you ‘love’ or yourself. Guess love is just an easily tossed around word at this point. Which is sad because it once had a definition and meaning to it all and now people just love everything without even knowing what love is itself.

It’s odd how the ugly in some can bring out the beauty in others.

As when someone makes you upset and you try to find the good in people or the world, and you turn around and there is a sunset, or a flower.

Just beauty in it’s simplest form, jumping out at you in the most insignificant way.

Making your skies not so grey.

We weren't each other's firsts but if we let that get to us we won't be each other's last.

She once played beautiful music but now she's just a broken record.

The way it looks at him makes me uneasy.
Knowing that all I've ever wanted was to make him feel that way... with that look.
I can't give him what it gives him, the beauty, the perfection. I'm not enough.
I'm said to be a big part of his life and yet I feel so pushed to the background.
Lost in oblivion.. of regret and sadness.. memories on repeat. And so many emotions. Of love, of loss, of no touch.
*Of no him.

i fill these voids inside of me with the things i don't need, the things that i perceive as happiness.
all people have their voids and all people have their fillers.
some have clothes and shoes and jewelry.
some have money and fame and colleagues.
some have ***, drugs and rock and roll.
but when it comes down to it their is still that void, it's just filled to the brim with stocking stuffers.
so once you unclog the drain and all of the things come pouring out, your just a 10 pound brain piloting a slab of meat with a hole inside of you.
the hole that has been scratched out by people and misfortune and lies and deceit.
but you still have your brain... and your slab of meat, which is more than some could say they have.
so you have to move on to the next location with your void... to try and fill it.
but the thing is your still walking around with the problem.
you think that if you move and make new acquaintances the void will be filled and the past will be corked and thrown into the ocean like a bottle floating waiting to be found.
but you can't throw your bottle into the ocean because it's the only bottle you have.
it's the only life you have.
you have to find a way to not avoid the problem or try to get rid of it.
but to put the past in the past and live in your present and continue on with your future.
that's why they call it a present.. because it's a gift to even have one.

i liked the way you made me feel
until you didn't make me feel that way anymore
so i let you go
but was that the right thing to do?
i have a void, that i've been trying to fill
ever so carelessly
drugs, ***, rock'n'roll
i've lost control
hell, i don't want to be in control
i want others to control me
i want someone to constantly be there and reassure me
but everyone leaves or i push them away
and i'm left with the biggest hole of agony inside
that can never be filled...
love is conditional.
love is stupid and blind and erratic and irrational.
love cares for no one.
so maybe it's not love i'm looking for?
maybe it's to erase the past
but time is a cruel thief.
time is selfish and careless.
and we waste him so he wastes us.
i am wasted.
no, not drunk.
but rather a ship, wasted at sea.
stuck in the sand of the past.
with this hole of agony... filling up with unwanted things.

i can see you in the stains on my glasses.

i'm going to die
that part is inevitable
you aren't going to miss me
i wish that part was avoidable
but chances are
when i gasp for one last breath
you'll be somewhere laughing
while my spirit releases into the air
like one of those balloons that kids only love for 5 minutes

I hate that I'm up thinking about you when I know I hardly cross your mind. Thinking about my lost innocence. Thinking about how everyone's told me that I'm older now and need to move on. And I have, but I can't forget the feeling.
As a child you're supposed to feel loved, wanted, adored, yet I always felt like I was a burden. You may be asking yourself, why? Well, maybe it was because I tried to hold my father's closed fists.

my love for him is wholehearted, however, it seems like i can't love him correctly anymore?
i can't put my arms around his waist, or touch his chest, or hold him certain ways.
i used to be understanding when it came to the lack of p.d.a because i agreed that it was inappropriate.
but, now, i feel like the girl that he just holds on to because he feels like no one else will accept him how he is.
under the binder, behind the socks in his underwear.
i don't care which gender he is because i fell in love with who he is at heart.
but anymore, i'm scared his heart is changing.
his mind definitely is, from putting on mascara 6 months ago to trying to make a shadow.
i am understanding.
i am loving.
but i am not benevolent.
or all-knowing.
but who knew loving someone unconditionally would come with so many conditions?