help

me.

i

am

falling

back

to

the

arms

of

those

who

hurt

me.

memories
of our every
phonecall
are etched in views
i stare
and smile at.

you’re not

unworthy

of love.

they weren’t

just worthy

of yours.

there are poetries

meant to be read,

there are poetries

meant to be spoken,

but all poetries

are meant to be felt.

you are a preposition.

you are in my heart.

you are on my mind.

you are at my doorstep knocking.

i'm tired.

i'm tired of things i know i can't control but still try my **** hardest to.

i'm tired of smiling all throughout the day making sure the people i'm talking to don't think of me as a **** joy.

i'm tired of faking a laugh just to please the people who throw jokes at me as if i'm not in the room with them.

i'm tired of walking as fast as i can back to my place so i could finally be in peace.

i'm tired of always finding myself in situations i'd rather not be found as i sit in the corner blurring the noise out by reading stuff on my phone.

i'm tired of fitting in.

i've always thought

love

was an ending:

finally having your lips close to mine when i wanted,

finally walking down the street with your hands holding mine,

finally sleeping beside you hearing your heartbeat ever so calmly.

i thought this was it;

that love has finally settled down after running all over the place

– in what i'd say a wild goose chase –

but it was only the beginning:

i start to feel what it's like to kiss someone that will make my heart beat fast.

i start to feel ecstatic walking down a street holding hands with someone knowing they'll never let go.

i start to sleep with someone beside me, knowing our faces will be the first thing we see every morning.

i've always thought

love

was an ending.

only to realize,

it was the jumpstart

of a wonderful journey.