Quettevio May 8

i passed a bridge today.

there was a lake below, green and sparkling and tempting; promising peace and solitude.

the bridge was red and long, and i was stomping my feet;
trying so hard
not to jump.

Quettevio Apr 6

embrace your scars,
wear them proudly like bracelets on your wrist,
kiss them like a lover,
they are just like you;
they want to be wanted, to be seen
by you.

let them know you are not ashamed of them
let them speaks your worst nights and thoughts,
your scarred past,
your helplessness,
for you.

Quettevio Mar 30

i watched her suffer when the first one was going to a medical school,
knew she would spent years ahead in hell trying to defend her,

i watched her suffer when the second was going to college
and she couldn't afford a proper addition course to make her feel more confident,

i watched her suffer when the third was going to follow the others,
and she was slamming herself bones by bones to make sure she had all the sources,

i watched her suffer and suffer and suffer
for everyone but herself,
and if that doesn't enough to break me in every way possible,
i don't know what else will do.

Quettevio Mar 24
-

i cut myself today
once, twice, thrice,

and i wonder why
it felt so good

i wonder why
it felt
so
relieving.

Quettevio Mar 15

my kind of guy is quiet, sort of,
my kind of guy wears long-sleeve striped shirt,
my kind of guy has voice so warm and encouraging it makes me feel brave,
my kind of guy listens to ed sheeran and sam smith and knows i love kelly clarkson,
my kind of guy wears black shoes on daily basis like a charm,
my kind of guy gives me a bottle of water when i was dehydrated without i even realized,
my kind of guy saves the hardest thing for himself,
my kind of guy sacrifices his own freedom for a friend,
my kind of guy is ambitiously calming,
my kind of guy babbles non-sense and laughs at his own jokes,
my kind of guy receives a scholarship and is an internal field coordinator at student council,
my kind of guy loves to listen to people like it's the bestest thing to do,
my kind of guy has the kindest eyes and smile so endearing, the kind of smile that doesn't take away your breath but grows the even bigger smile on your face,


my kind of guy is him,
my kind of guy is the kind of guy
i don't deserve.

Quettevio Jan 24

she was just a usual college girl at a glance,
look closer and you will see how her eyes dead
her lips dry with wounds all over and they are still red

one day she took a writing class because
she had nowhere to go

there was this one time the white-haired guy
with fatherly smile who called himself a professor,
raised one of the students' work and complimented
the suicide ending of the main character

he read it and she thought how it was true,

but then everyone started writing about
depression and self-loathing and
cutting yourself
biting your lips
clawing your cheeks
and ended with someone's hanging or choking in pills

she asked one of them who had written so,

'have you ever stood over a bridge
and your legs just felt like they were
going to betray you and every ounce of faith
you ever had in everything you thought you believed in?'

when she saw the strange look pointed at her,


she knew she was talking to a wrong person.

Quettevio Nov 2016

tell them about our first meeting and how you told me i had you at hello. tell them that you saw the wall surrounding me and how I foolishly let you in. tell them about the meetings between traffic lights and wrapped sandwiches. tell them about how I held onto you like I’ve never seen hope before. tell them i used to call you home. tell them you were once every story in my head.

tell them how you were always my first when i was only your second best. tell them how you broke me when i thought i couldn't be more broken than i already was. tell them how I believed you and how you deceived me. tell them about how you told me your favorite colour was white, and how I thought how lovely it was, never realized that it was also the color of your lie when you promised me you will stay.

tell them, you old, sick joke, that for once I thought you loved me.

tell them, and they will know that these rummaging, angry, raging, words are all about you. they will know I pour every scar you’ve left into these words, these last words I pull for you. they will know you were both the hero and the villain. they will know I was a damsel in distress who saved herself. they will know I survived. I always will.

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