I used to choke on your name like broken glass.
Now it's only a phantom pain.
I thought that was better.
Now I just feel empty.
You took my heart, my happiness, my joy.
I feel ashamed when he makes me smile-
I feel like I'm cheating on your memory.
But then I remember that you were the one who walked away,
and the pain becomes real, and sharp as glass all over again.

It's been so long now.
The anger is gone-
we talk-in passing- just a simple "hello"
nothing serious, nothing about the past.
Maybe it still hurts too much, or maybe-
you simply don't care anymore.
But I can't help but think-

What if we just met at the wrong time?
What if we did make things work down the line?
I smile for you and tell you things are going well-
you have her- and I him.
Yet I still find myself wondering "what if?"
If I run into you a year from now-
will that spark still be there?
At least then this heart ache would be worth it.

I still want to call you-
gush about my day.
Hear your laughter over the phone-
feel your smile from hundreds of miles away.
I almost do-
but then I remember I haven't heard your voice in months.
I don't want reality to crush my dreams.

A seemingly innocent phrase-
"that'd be an awkward way to meet someone."-
has me transported back in time.
A time of love- and laughter.
Even though I was with you-
all I heard-
saw-
smelt-
felt-
was him.
For the rest of the day I found myself-
comparing the two of you.
Weighing the pros and cons.
Trying to remind myself,
he is the past and you are the present.
****.
Nostalgia is a *****.

I finally understand why you aggravate me so.

You call all the shots-

I lack control.

I don’t have control over the situation-

and although it interests me-

it frightens me more.

I've been out of therapy for over 2 years.
As far as my parents are concerned-
my self hatred was just a blimp.
A spot in my seemingly perfect high school career.
I pulled over a 4.0 so I must be okay.
She got a boyfriend.
She got healthy.
She must love herself now.
Little do they know-
my pulse still quickens at the mere thought,
of tearing into my own flesh.
My body pumps with adrenaline if I don't automatically push the idea away.
Sorry mom.
Sorry dad.
I'm not really all that better.
Just better at lying.

If you believe in the "capital G" God-
good for you.
If you believe in God(s) plural-
good for you.
If you believe God correlates to the flying Santa in the sky-
good for you.
Believe in whatever you want to.
That is your right as a human being.

But do not- I repeat-
DO NOT!-
Think that because you have a belief system,
it makes you better than those who don't.
You are not any smarter-
or held at a higher standard than those who chose not to believe.
If you can choose to believe, they can choose to disbelieve.

You call when you are lonely
and I come running.
More than willing-
to fill your days with laughter and light.
Only you don't call when the sun is in the sky.
You call when she is fast asleep,
and you need a play thing.

The porcelain doll on the shelf-
the toy you pick up-
as if you remind yourself you are still in possession of it.
That your doll has not grown a brain of it's own-
and fled to a place where she is not set on a shelf.

I refuse to be that doll anymore.
I refuse to be the drunken texts and phone calls-
where you slur "baby, I miss you."
I am not your doll.
I am not your fix to a lonely night.
**I am my own person.

Head: (bold)
Heart: (Italics)

He's moved on.
He doesn't mean that.
Hell I've moved on.
He is your sun and stars
It wasn't working.
He makes you happy.
We were fighting
Think of all the good memories.
yelling such hateful things-
The way you felt curled up-in his arms-
things we didn't mean.
safe from the hatred of the world.
He's too immature.
You two can fix this.
The love is gone*

(Can't fix what isn't broken)
Can't change the *past
Yet the battle rages on.

You would take back everything you said last night-
once the alcohol was out of your system.
Perhaps you shouldn't get drunk-
Around your new love.
I'd hate for you to say my name-
Instead of hers.

I am a ******* human being-
not some project to be worked on,
tweaked or fixed.
I have learned to love myself.
Flaws, scars, mistakes in all.
If you don't like who I am-
do me a favour and leave.
That's more useful than you trying to fix me.

It doesn't hurt any more.
I don't see your face when I wake up.
I don't crave your arms at 2:21 am-
when I can't sleep.
I don't close my sleepy eyes and,
wonder where you are.

I'm happy for you-
and the love you have found.
Isn't that when you know that it's over-
and you've moved on?
When you can be genuinely happy for someone.

I hope you are happy for me too.
I'd hate for us to get stuck in the same old loop.
The cycle of us wanting what we can't have.
Be happy for me and I'll stay happy for you.

We are always planning for it-
yearning for it.
Saying things will be better-
in the future,
but what is the future, really?
The next day? The next moment?
The future is what we make of it.
Stop waiting for tomorrow-
for it may never come.
Live your life <3

Everyone says when you find the one
you'll know. The world will spin,
birds will chirp, and a chorus will sing.
Every wrong in your life will become right.

I think it's a bit more like this.
Your world gets set on fire.
That person infuriates you,
but like a car crash-
you can't look away.

Sure with them,
the world is sunshine and rainbows and kittens-
that's the honeymoon phase-
it will fade.

Next comes real love.
The arguing, the screaming, the sleepless nights-
but don't worry you'll make up.
This time,
and maybe the next time too-
if you're lucky.

Then comes the end.
The defeat- the "just leave"-
or "I can't do this anymore"
The aching hole- tear stained pillows-
wondering what in the world happened.
"where did I go wrong?"

But don't worry-
just as love fades,
it will one day begin again.
Take your time-grieve if needed,
just keep your heart open.

It’s times like this when I miss you.
When I know you are the only one who understands the anger that will soon turn to tears.
When the laughter of friends has faded.
When my friends sleep peacefully-
And I just sit and stare.
Still so ******* confused as to how badly we ****** up.
Trying to comprehend the end.
Knowing you could solve this all for me-
With just a smile.
Yea..I miss you at moments like this.

I used to have to light up
to help our memories go up in smoke.
Inhale and exhale until I could calm down and see straight.
Even if that meant I went through half a pack.

Now, in my worst moments- he calls.
Unknowing of the savior he has become.
It has become second nature-
to accept the end-
without a cigarette
mostly because it is hard to smoke when I'm too busy laughing.

I let you break me

Sounds like you’re struggling again.
(I heard it from a friend)
too bad you won’t let me in.

I told you it was a tricky addiction,
and you struggled for so long,
but you wouldn't get help even when I begged,
I hope her love “heals” you instead.

Explain to me why sleep deprivation seems like a fair trade for long nights up talking to you.

We talk about war, crime and poverty..
So why not the fight in our own homes?
We talk openly, gossip even about others,
but our home is off limits
everything is “perfect"
Behind closed doors
children weep, parents fight
some wondering about making it through the night
to uphold the standard, to not embarrass those who raised us
We stay silent.
If anyone asks “Everything is great"

But for how long?
How long do we bite our tongues, fight the tears and smile?
How long is too long?
We wait too long..

Beautiful. That’s what they say.
But there is nothing beautiful about me.
I am not to be put on a shelf and admired.
I am not some fragile, stain-glass window.
I am my scars. I am the sleepless nights.
I am the suicidal thoughts at one am.
But I am also that voice that says “No live”
I learn from my mistakes.
I have earned my tiger strips.
I am a steel core of absolution.
Calling me simply beautiful, would be an insult.

I always said “I’ll be fine”
I was okay, cracked around the edges but okay
Always told myself to smile
someone somewhere has it worse than me
Never acknowledged how broken I was.
Until I truly met the girl who I had given the title
“That ***** that broke and stole my best friend”
She dated him longer than I did, true.
He seemed to trust her as much as he trusted me, true as well.
They broke up… and got back together and broke up..and ect.
When they had broken up for good, I decided to make her acquaintance.
Not out of spite or anger, but to extend the olive branch.
And it was here that I met my worst fears.
I saw a girl so hurt, broken and beaten by the guy I idolized.
And realized, take two years off my age…and I was looking in a mirror.
A ******* ******* mirror.
I convinced myself he hadn't hurt me, broken me or changed me..then I realized he’d done more damage than could be repaired.
I saw this all in another girl who might as well have been me.

I once met a boy born on Valentines’ Day.
A boy with love practically built in his veins.
But after 3 years of an on again off again heart wrenching relationship, he told me falling in love with me was the worst decision he had ever made.
As if you choose who you fall in love with.
I once met a boy born near Valentines’ Day.
A boy who was more timid than the one before him in some ways.
A boy who may have not had love blazing through his veins
but a boy who had plenty of love in his heart,
and after 2 years of fighting and making up and fighting and making up, together we still stand. better than ever. closer than ever.
He still tells me loves me every night before we sleep,
and most importantly after 2 years of being together he still tells me that falling in love with me was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Falling in love isn't a choice, but that doesn't make it any less real or magical.

the fact your birthday happens to be on the day of love is no coincidence
it wasn’t a mistake, it was fate.
A sign to the whole world how much love you were capable of giving out.
An outward sign to look a little deeper,
to show the world the outside view of you was just the tip of the iceberg
with more depth than the ocean and more facets than the worlds most expensive diamond
but like the ocean and a “girls best friend” you were scary and cruel at times.
Some days you were so cold you stole the breath from my lungs
and other days you brought the color to my cheeks.
Being born on the day of love must have given you the power to give and take away love in the blink of an eye.

Mirrors and other shiny objects are said to have reflective properties.
But we disregard the most reflective thing.
Humans.
Emotions.
Personalities.
Mannerisms.
Another person can show you your reflection better than any mirror.