I'm a sorry little soul and you’re the only thing that keeps me going. I’m a fraying mass- I'm falling apart at the seams and you're the last stitch keeping me together. I've been left out in the rain, the cold and the darkness, and I'm waiting on your light to bask in my direction.
When I eclipse, just know that we will meet again and you will be at my side. I will shine on you again and we will give the world something they won't forget- a dazzling twilight for all to see. I am your sun, you are my moon. Don't leave me in darkness anytime soon.
I think about our future cat that is, if you wanted more. Would we have too many to pat or would they be ours to adore? We'd argue over countless names in between our countless grins- these perfect moments hung in frames, soaked in pure love and the finest gins.
I don’t fear getting lost in your eyes, I fear getting lost in your voice. I see myself in those eyes and I see my home. Your voice, though- it can swallow me whole with all your little words and I would never return.
It stormed yesterday. Today the sky is clear and now they're yours to conquer. So remember, whenever struggle and pain are present, it will always pass- the oceans are yours to surpass. So fill your heart, Purge your mind, Spread your wings, Go ahead and fly, kid, The world is yours.
We all wander, sometimes too much, about those who truly care for us. We believe that no one would care if we weren’t here- but think about all the ones that you have ever cared about and how they have no idea about it. I had a college teacher I haven’t seen in too long yet I still tell people how much of an impact he had even though he doesn't have a clue. I have old coworkers, people I met through travels, and friends turned acquaintances and haven’t seen in years who I would be devastated about if something happened to them. We secretly care about so many people but act like it’s impossible that anyone cares about us. Impossible - people do. more than you think, even if you can’t see it.
She is alone day after day- night after night. Alone between pages and in between each pen ****** are the secrets she keeps to herself. She'll tell them one day and they will explode out of her like the supernova that she is.
I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I was back in town. I was scared, I was anxious of this time and space between us- an aching silence echoed across the seas. You know that all you have to do is call out my name and I'll be back in a heartbeat.
I am longing for the night- wishing for nothing but sleep but when the night comes, I lay in bed, awaiting a serenity that isn’t so imminent. A restlessness stirs within me, not realizing its still hours until dawn.
The left find themselves caught in between socialism and a rebellion. On one hand, they wish to grant their government more power, when on the other, they claim they cannot be trusted. Which one is it? Time is ticking.
Does anyone catch themselves in between two realities? Do you wake up in a cold sweat from a dream your mind still believes is real? Obsessing over every little detail until your mind collapses from exhaustion. This isn't a poem, this is a question- or is it? I can't decide.
I wasn't prepared to be right- but I knew you would find someone else and I knew you would be happier with them- even happier than you were with me. I knew you wouldn't miss me anymore and I knew you would move on.
Think about all the people you wouldn’t have met if you had never broken up- Think of all the things you’ve learned since then. Think of all the travelling you wouldn’t have gone on and the photos you wouldn't have taken and the laughs you wouldn't have had. Step outside yourself and look at who you have become- remind yourself that you made the right choice.
I may not believe in soulmates but I do believe that there's someone out there waiting for you- whose face you will wake up to for the rest of your life. Sure, you may not believe me now- you can't get over them today- you probably won't tomorrow- but just remember that the silence is okay. These grey periods in life are finite and do not need words to colour them in.
trapped between Heaven and ****, the world has failed her one too many times. Fall after fall, she's cracked but not yet shattered. There's no ending in sight- she looks in the mirror and sees someone else.
Why do we glamorize our pain? Is it because we're so desperate to hide our wounds and insecurities? We fall in love with heartache and glamorize depression. We turn our tears to watercolours to practice the art of sorrow.