Words can't describe
Move can't decide
The sensation of it
I'll cherish it bit by bit

We haven't spend much time
Starts so simple and nice
Sometimes I wonder how you are fine
The polar opposite of mine

We still talk
We still touch
But you're now locked
It's that or such

It haven't been that long
Yet you look so strong
Maybe it's just me
Not strong enough to be

I hope you read this pathetic bummed
Made by this complete dumb
I've only been feeling one thing
God, I ****** miss you

I can no longer relate to the vengeful breakup songs on the radio.
But I can’t relate to the ones about love.
So what am I related to?
In the movies, when two people go spinning apart,
they always come back together in a crescendo
and a last kiss,
before the screen goes black.
But we didn’t get that.
I didn’t run in a baby blue dress to your door
at the same time that you opened it
and immediately everything was better.
We just continued to break,
and break,
and break.
Now we are ash and dust,
remnants of a lost love scattered to the wind.
We do not get a sparkling, happy ending.
Instead, you won’t accept the blame
and I’m trying my best to move on.
I guess it just wasn’t us.
You were not the answer to my question
and I did not belong in your melody.
I know there will never be a day that I can fit into your song.
I can live with that,
but can you?

"We need to talk". These four words turned my gut into a hamster wheel and spun my mind like a dryer full of bricks. My future ex-girlfriend's knock on the door was morse code for “you failed again”.  

We wielded silence like blades trying to cut away and hoard the few good pieces left of our now failed relationship. But unspoken words are not weapons and vulnerability is not an arms race.

When the hammer finally fell, I felt an odd sensation rush through me. I was visited by a seldom-seen yet beloved patron of my brain I hadn’t seen in months. It was visceral relief like I had just scratched an itch on my face I had been fighting off for 6 months.

Cognitive dissonance is a subtle thing but it was practically slapping me in the face repeatedly until I was confronted with the realization that I have agency in my own life.
They say words create worlds and I have been the architect of my own prison for a long time.

Love has been a wound barely concealed, and intimacy is the bandage that I’ve tried to staunch the bleeding with. But I’ve ripped off my own bandaid so many times the wound has never healed.

It’s an odd dance the mind does when both craving and simultaneously fearing the very same thing. Like burning down your dream home because you got cold in the middle of the night and wanted to warm your fingers around the burning remains of your best intentions.

Every time I say” this one will be different” “I will force myself to be content.” But that works about as well as watering a plant with cheap ***** and wondering why it’s not growing. I've come to terms with my romance delusion. I am self-abandoning myself on an island to merely occupy the space.

“I need to find my better half,” I tell myself, but I severed the better half from myself the second I thought I needed someone to complete me.

the moon was full and bright
the clouds hung low and close to each other
akin to marble, rippling,
filtering the luminous glow from the night

a slight chill in the air
the noises of society, here and there, now and then
piercing the raw, beautiful silence
and the serene, presence of being

a reminder that life is moving all around us
even in those moments most quiet
even if we are not ready or capable
even if we feel lost and empty and alone.

it still flows and goes its own way at its own pace
we must listen and feel every bit of it
we must flow and ride the waves
even when they are crashing and we go under.

Something said is not always something felt.
You learn that the hard way.
Time does not always heal old wounds,
it opens them so they are gaping
and it swallows everything.
Processing is still ongoing, in the middle
or maybe closer to the beginning.
New dissonance arrives and clogs up the line.
There is too much in your head at this time.
Incapable and unable to properly deal,
you are emotionally unavailable and unwilling.
You would rather be alone than be here.
You don't feel what you should feel.
You don't act in the way you feel you should and you have in the past.
You feel uncomfortable.  
So you let me go because you have work to do.
And I cannot wait for you to love me in the way I should be.

Write down all the things
they will miss about you and
hang it on your wall

11:39 AM
24/12/20