I don't write love poems anymore;
I sleep until noon and eat *** cakes for breakfast

I don't sing love songs anymore;
I cut off all my hair and dyed it a color he told me never to do

I don't read love stories anymore;
I pierced my nose and ate mushrooms underneith the stars

I don't write love notes anymore;
I read my books at diners in the middle of the night and paint just because I can

I live with tenacity and I haven't had a regret since I left


I'm glad I don't write love poems anymore

I used think
Of suicide
All the time

How
When
Where

But really,
Suicide
Sounds like a lot
Of work

What I really wish
Is that death
Would just take me
And I wouldn't have to come
To it

That I would fall from great heights
But not on purpose

That a bear would eat me
Without prompting

That water would take me
Without my help

That I would just die
But not on purpose

Or even better
But truly impossible,

I wish I had never been born

That I had never disgraced
This world
With my presence

That I never
Met you
So you wouldn't have to pretend
To be my friend

That I never
Forced my
Ugly words
On people

I honestly wish I had never been born

So no,
I do not
Want to commit suicide

But yes,
I do want to die
Or have never been alive

I hope you have a daughter
Just as beautiful as you
I hope she is an angel
And she makes your dreams comes true

I hope she falls in love one day
I hope their love is real
I hope she drives him mad with love
The way you made me feel

I hope she loves her culture
I hope she loves her God
I hope he doesn't fit the mold
The same way I was flawed

I hope she doesn't hide from you
And that you've helped her understand
True love transcends both faith and race
And it sure as hell's not planned

I hope you get to meet him
And see how he makes her smile
I hope that if she tells him yes
He can walk her down the aisle

The hardest thing I've ever done
Was giving you my heart
And being crushed as ignorance
Tore our love apart

You gave me a glass jar
We collected fireflies and put them inside
We admired them every night.
Only the two of us understood
what the flicker of the tiny lights meant.

Only the two of us understood.

One day, we walked down the beach
We walked by a stranger whose eyes
sparkled like our glass jar.
I lost my mind
I dropped our jar
I gave the stranger our fireflies
I thought he was worthy.

You ran away with tears in your eyes
and wounds in your hand
from all the broken pieces of our glass jar.

As I tried catching up, I stepped on broken glass
I hurt myself
I stopped chasing you
I let you go and went after the stranger with the sparkly eyes.

For a moment, I forgot about you and our jar and our fireflies.

One day, it rained.
The stranger left and I felt my wounds fresh again.
I thought about you and our jar and our fireflies.
I missed you.
It hurt and I cried and I promised
not to collect fireflies anymore.

I haven't seen fireflies or sparkly eyes since then.

Six hundred and seventy three days passed
I went back to the ocean and saw the broken pieces of our glass jar
The wounds are now healed but I still miss you
I picked up the pieces and glued them back together
I sent them back to you in a box with a bow
"This is yours", I said
I did not wait for a response.

One day, I saw you holding our empty jar
You were looking at me
I looked back, holding my tears
I moved close and I saw
There were no tears, no pain, no anger in your eyes anymore

I moved closer 'cos I thought I saw your eyes sparkle
I thought about our fireflies
And in that moment I realized

It was you all along
It was not the stranger with the sparkly eyes
It was you
It is you
You are my fireflies.

being dead inside is a paradox.
a contradiction. polar opposites.
you feel nothing at all, but at the same time you're feeling something.
there are no intense emotions yet, feeling so dead inside is an intense emotion in itself.
you're comforted by the fact that you won't feel any bad emotions but
at the same time, you're dissatisfied because you won't feel any good emotions either.
being dead inside is great when your lover leaves you, when your friend dies, when everything comes crumbling down at once ... because you won't feel it as much.
being dead inside is terrible when your lover tries to kiss you, when your friend invites you on a vacation, when everything starts coming together ... because you won't feel it as much either.