Some people will have you believe that damage can be beautiful, and it's true that you can find the sunlight through the clouds. But my trauma is not pretty. It is an ugly bruise that everyone thinks is okay to poke at, and watch the black and blue attempt to change colours when it heals. There is no beauty in crying alone at 3am, spilling alcohol down your shirt at a party you're only attending to drown your issues in, swallowing tiny little pills to feel somewhat okay, avoiding any comfort because you feel you deserve less. It is a lonely place to be, stuck in a broken mind with one-way windows. I can romanticise my pain as much as i want, but it will always be a toxic relationship i have with myself. And it is not beautiful.
One dies, one stays One flies, one lays One sees, one feels One gives, one steals One kept, one lost One love, one way One direction, one fall One trot, one gallop One way, one up
you said love is hard when it's not reciprocated. (i blinked)
you said it hurts looking at her from the outside in and that you're tired of being on the sidelines (i held my breath)
you told me your heart breaks a little, when she can't take her eyes off him yet here you are, begging God for her to spare you a glance - just one. (my throat tightened)
you said you're lucky to have me, as your best friend and i remember exactly how i faked a smile. that smile was probably the biggest lie i ever told.
and then you asked, "why do we fall in love with people we can't have?" (i looked away)
"how do you handle this?"
i inhaled sharply, as i held back my tears; **"i'll show you how."
//you can't help who you love// inspired by madisen kuhn