She cannot be enough for anyone if she’s not enough for herself.
She hates her long nails, her long hair and the rest of her ******* femininity.
All she wanted to be was ideal for someone that she thought she cared for.
Does he hear her screaming through the ecstasy he feels when he caused her pain?
He gave her these beautiful insecurities to cut herself with as she thinks of him.
When it rains for hours at a time she remembers dreaming about how one day she would be one of those raindrops touching him in places no one else had before.
He led these flawless fears of starting a family with anyone else because she wanted him first.
She wanted him to want her first in every way she wanted him.
There’s this song that she listens to repeatedly because the dancing beats reminds her…
The way you would ravage her in ways no else can or will.
She’s disappointed in her younger self for being so stupidly naïve and tastefully rambunctious.
She will be writing her vows soon and years later will most likely still be at her desk writing a book she will finish about her many different ideas of love she thought she created with him.
She tells him that she’s happily frustrated with herself.
She’ll write novel after novel and hope to catch a little attention even though she has more than enough with her guy.

The wind was kissing her hair in ways that would lovingly brush  across her soft forehead and tickle her eyelashes with the tips of her hair. The short gusts of winds made her eyes tears up at the ends a little as well as chill the tips of her soft fingertips. As the sun was setting she saw the way warm colors would kiss the darker cooler colors of the sky and all she could think about was he and what he was doing at that exact moment.
Sunsets were deadly to her. Deadly beautiful because they inspired her and teased her the same way he did. The light orange of the sky was the same color of the dying fire in her raging mind and fiery heart. She was in the middle of the sky with her little couch and balcony, in between her fading auburn sunset on the left and the dark nightly blues blending in with her reflecting ocean on her right.
She watched as the water reflected the changing blues in the sky it was as if the sky was getting herself ready for the night in her mirror: the ocean. Sadly enough, those blues sang to her about the lighter blues that would make her smile and cry simultaneously.
The cold brisk wind was touching her all over from the tips of her exposed toes to the tip of her nose. She loved seeing the atmosphere get darker and darker like her sad mind.  The breeze would remind her of the ways her love would keep her close with those deep blues of his.
But as the clouds were kissing away the fading sun with the purples and lavenders she wondered if she should save the trouble for her deep blue eyed creature and kiss him away as well. She was never going to get tired of going crazy with the way the sky painted the way she felt about him and the way they whispered to her how cold he made her feel when she was too warm for him like the sleeping sun.
As the sun took its final dip onto the horizon, she smiled at her shivering, goose-bumped covered legs and licked her lips so she could taste the kiss of the ocean the breeze brought to her.
She could taste him so well, even as she watched the sky and the ocean become the same dark blue as her bruised mind, she told her self to let her come back to him like the sun.

Love is the most universally beautiful thing that any one of us humans could ever experience in some wonderfully, individual way. It is stupidly complicated, anyone can tell you that. But, honestly, if it wasn’t as complicated as it is then who would actually attempt it. It’s good that it’s complicated that way it keeps you on your toes.


Everything that you do to anyone is completely pointless. At first, the words and the feelings might hurt you and make you feel like you are losing every round against them even though both of you are supposed to be on the same team. Your imagination and the places your mind takes you will leave you without words because you want to believe that they are real and everything will happen as you wish it so. Unfortunately, that is not true because you see yourself feeding you these sweet, delicious lies and then you’re stuck with the brutal truth of it all.


He’s messaging you to tell you that you’re too young for the situations you put yourself in. You have tried to find yourself in every guy you kissed when really you have just come to realize that they were always trying to find themselves in you. Sadly, you gave yourself away blindly and thoroughly in every possible way. Funnily enough, you managed to keep some of your sanity while doing so or pretended to when you were falling apart when they were too scared to keep you.

He is biologically programmed to love you unconditionally, regardless of anything or anyone you might do.
He’s the first to break your heart and the last to mend it.
He teaches you so many things whether they’re wrong or right. But even if he fails and gives you those great issues everyone wants and might have. This specific type of disorder that cannot help you differentiate between every other man you have slept with..
He's supposed to be the guy in your life that will never leave and never make you feel worse about yourself. Make you feel like that ridiculous princess that you are going to be.
It goes downhill when it does not work out because you’re holding hands with all the wrong boys and your mother starts to blame you because it is not one-sided when in reality it is. And everyone just starts emotionally blackmailing you on whatever you’re doing and shaming you in what makes you happy.
You receive ******* from the best guys that ones your mom would want you to marry. Then you laugh and realize that they’re not here to stay and you flutter to the next hand that will play with your hair like your father didn’t.
He makes me you want to be everything in the world just for him to be proud of you and give you that approval for the genes he shares with you.
Yet you also want to make sure he’s alive to see that pretty corpse of his little girl just to make him feel hell.
Every single hell that you went through with the occasional wrong guy that shared a kiss with you.
You’re thankful for everything else but less thankful for the **** you did not ask for.
Unfortunately, even if you surround yourself with either the jerks or darlings of the universe you always see that guy at home in one of them, either in the way they speak or cook.

She wanted the darkness to drown her to make her go to sleep and never wake up.
Her demon in her head was telling her to push that blade deeper into her soul.
He wanted to make the sharpness of the blade dance inside her wound.
Her cold fingers were around his wrist that was holding that wiggling blade.
His small thoughts could not see that he was not just holding the knife but he was also the cruelness of the pain that would peek through her drops of blood.
All of it would end for him: the kisses and smiles, the soft touches, sadly everything that made his terrible dream.
She would escape with his last extraordinary ****** provided by her and crash into her sea of night never to be seen again.
The tears would hopefully wash away some of the blood and then her body would be cold, as cold as his heart.
Happiness was never supposed to be one of her friends anyways but Death would always be that secret admirer stalking her every move.
Suffering from him knowing he would end up killing her sweetly was a pleasurable method of sedation.
Arousing her with delicious lies while laughing in her face, she then realized he was Lucifer himself and she was that naïve half ******.
What kind of woman is she for letting him damage her even more?
Is she kind-hearted for devoting herself to his cruel ways?
Or is she some kind of seductive sociopath not caring if she’s more than cold?

His affection was fulfilling and she never wanted to let him escape his grasp because she loved being selfish with him.
She is I and he is he.
Unfortunately, she knows that she is completely broken beyond repair and that her serotonin is completely gone.
And we are as completely ****** up as long as we tell ourselves to be. I’m making a complete fool of myself wanting his lips on me. Those lips can make me do anything and everything; stupid or not.
But then I realize that she knows she means nothing to him and it barely hurts her because he needs a phenomenal ****** and she is a just silly sociopath.
She tries to imagine being with him with all her soul; them following all the beautiful steps like making babies and cooking together and traveling together, basically the whole book of *******.
They would talk about everything and anything together, Tell each other what they did; good and bad.
Wrapping herself in his gorgeous words and arms.
They would walk on the edge of the waves on the beaches and collect shells.
She could see the brightness of the sun flicker on his heartbreaking eyes.

The blood is humming through my body, those irritating vibrations.
I want it to stop completely, the flow and everything that is breaking underneath.
I’m surrounded by heartbeats, the beautiful beating of hearts roaming and crying.
When the specific heartbeat I am searching for is far away from mine. Sometimes I moan sad and unthinkable thoughts like wanting to stop my heartbeat just to stop abruptly with no regrets afterward.
Having faith in the indifference that I have towards others and myself helps nothing and no one.
Everything ends in tears because people do not know how to control their **** emotions.
I’m completely scared and enticing for the bullet they will put in my head.
Sometimes I’m only concerned about the fact that they only want to look pretty and feel my heartbeat because everything else does not make sense to them.
Being reckless helps me in not wanting them to want me.

Shamelessly coveting someone that he did not need.
She was incredibly scary for driving on the wrong roads.
He became breathless whenever she drove past him.
The way she swerved around some obstacles and hit others.
Everything was going to change for him as soon as he got with her.
Whenever she thought he was going to kiss her and ride … he did not.
Her whistles of *** and drugs and sadness did not let him come closer.
Breaking most of the rules was her way of trying to kiss him.
But he did not want to take everything out on her.
She was screaming at him, “Come closer and I promise I’ll bite a little less!”
Their hands touched and she did not let go as the love of her life was moving her.
He rides with her into space she always stares in while slowly regretting it.
The wind from their tantrums was blowing through their hair.
He did not want to love her so he made himself not to.
Strong attraction between them and he still did not want to.
This ride would be their love song even if they killed each other in the end.

The simple yet complicatedly beautiful touch of hers made him feel as delicate as a feather.
Her fingertips would lightly graze against the curves in his arm, it was as if she could see edges in his muscles that he could not.
The movements were not sensual but more endearing and sad.
Her eyes sang songs and moaned melodies from enduring the pain she felt when being able to touch him for these moments knowing it would end.
Darling, my heart is drunk. Drunk off of you and she’s afraid of the hangover that intrigued as well.
The game of hers did not help with the way she wanted to sleep.
Being dangerous with her helped him figure out how he wanted to die.
He wanted everything and she did not want anything.
While she was going under he was pulling at her strings trying to get her to rise as high as he was.
They were birds floating across clouds and riding on their small gusts of air, but one of them was crying while the other one laughed.
His wings would slap her while he was trying to help her fly with him.
And he had no idea.
She enjoyed it either way.

She is a little bit broken, just like me.
This is what makes her so captivating.
She pulls me in with those brown eyes of hers that reflected deep melancholy.
She is definitely quite similar to my melancholies.
The pain in her eyes drew me in because she made being broken seem as though it is grand and exquisite.
Her pain was so beautiful and dark in the way that she still wanted something out there to take it out of her.
You could tell she was somewhat of a hopeless yet sweet creature.
Crawling around aimlessly as though she were on delicate glass, afraid to cut herself and others. She believed in many ideas and people, practically everything, except herself.
People around her envied her but she had no idea.
Her life was as chaotic as the ocean filled with lovely little beasts.
There was fearfulness flowing around her, but none of that mattered to her, because she still believed, naively, even so she believed.
Feeling anything with her was unlike anything you could ever imagine.
Most people were phenomenal at making broken look unattractive. It was easy.
Her darkness was worth drowning in and everyone wanted to have the last breath in her miserableness.
When I met her I could tell that her feelings toward me were a mix of hatred and love.
Because she wanted to feel an emptiness like mine. It was a hunt a consensually sad hunt.
And I wanted to feel all her emotions at once.

I was in the twilight of my life, and the charming person I met along the road was my only dawn.
At night, I fall asleep with images of myself, swaying and smiling with them... you
I wished over and over and over again, that smashed yet sparkling me could stop loving you, darling.
I want nothing and everything with you. It completely scares me.
I had nightmares of becoming a beautiful yet tragic poet, but upon meeting you I saw those dreams spread like the billion stars in the night sky.
Honestly, I didn't mind because I know that all it takes is getting all you ever wanted, and then completely losing it to know what you can be.
Years of being on a never-ending world journey and my memories of you were the only things that persisted me, and my only blissful moments.
When the people I used to live around discovered what I have been doing, and whom I have been kissing, what I’ve been drinking, and how I'd been living, they asked me, “What the hell are you thinking?
However, there's no use to talking with people who have a home.
Every experience was fire itself and that terrified me yet helped me obsess for freedom, dear.
These faint-hearted mice do not know what it's like to find safety in other people - for ‘home’ to be wherever or whomever you want.
I want an honest compass pointing me anywhere but I have an indecisiveness inside me that is as wild and wavering as the sea.
I always had this fiery madness intimately inside me it dizzied me and then you tossed gasoline on it and it dazed me.
I think I was born to be the other woman.
The woman that belongs to everyone and no one at the same time, merely emptying herself to please others.
But then I start to believe that I am my own woman. And that wonderful tease in control and loving the war I created with myself.
I adore being the unrequited one in particular. You are my coffee but I feel like the mistreated coffee machine.
Thank you for my dreamy blues.

When you love someone, you love her in every way. 
You love their curious insecurities. You love their faults whether they’re like yours or not… even if she feels like a silhouette.
You love the way they walk, whether it’s toward you or not
When they laugh then you laugh because you want share them, and when they stare at you then you stare back because you want to take every detail in.
When you love someone, you get mad at her. You get hurt. You hurt them as well and if you love them so much you try to heal those senseless scars. You try to make them feel better about everything and anything. You make them feel more precious.
When you love someone, you don’t just give up on her. It gets harder each day because then you love them and no matter how awkward it is, you stay loving them because it is still harder without them.
When you love someone, you wonder whether they have eaten, they went home safely, whether they are feeling good about themselves.
When you love someone, you want them to be happy, grateful that one of you has their claws on right.
When you love someone, you hold them as long as they want to be held.
When you love someone, you know it is frightening and exciting.

In my dreams, we’re walking along the edge of the universe. My love for you is like the **** sun, burning miles away and lighting up brightly than any other star. Time isn’t real here; there’s only us and couple million flowers. Forever. But then again, my dreams aren’t real either. And forever doesn’t exist for anyone.
We are together in each universe. We are calm in every reality. I’m tired of all these parallel universes teasing my head where we’re together.
I wanted to love you significantly; leaving small kisses on your heart.
Then teach me to have the same wounds so we could match.  
Today my best friend asked me, “Baby, how many ******* times do you think of this darling devil of yours a day!?” and I said, “Well, I guess just once because ever since I  met him, he hasn’t left my  ******* mind...”
I dance with you on our string of stars. And when I laugh with my preschoolers I wish you could see these young pieces of love just so they could make you laugh too.
Sunsets still remind me of you because they make me miserable and blissful simultaneously. Being able to watch something leave, like the sun, excited for him to bring light to someone else while leaving me.  
I’m still convinced you’re the only one who makes the sky blush and flush like I did when I was with you. But it’s been raining and snowing ever since you left. All I think I ever wanted was to watch the sun rise and set with you.
When it rains the raindrops and thunder tell me; “you’re lucky that he’s caused tears to fall from your eyes. Doesn’t it make you feel alive?”
“Yes, it does. Less cynical too. Recklessly so.” I cry back.