I used to look at you and see the universe light up in your eyes. The glitter of a thousand worlds, Captured in those brown eyes. My world revolved around you, As the Earth does around the Sun. You held me your hands as if I was fragile seashell, Yet your grasp was firm and demanding. Voicing concerns always in vain, You delt the cards I had to face. What I had thought you gave was nothing to what I thought it was, Love doesn’t endure such crazy madness. I had made mistakes I cannot take back, I **** myself for what is done and you see nothing. Blind as the joke you say, You never noticed yourself pull away. Bleeding through hands and feet I held on for you to stay, Hopping you’ll come back home to me. The world doesn’t work as such and I’ve come to terms that your eyes held not of the universe and worlds, But of those whose souls you stole and ate to only spit out. You had my entire being regardless of flaws, Now it’s time to continue with myself, Alone is what was meant for me.
I can see it in the fact that your eyes do not sparkle as bright. Your eyes are looking out at the world, but it feels like you are seeing in black and grey. As if a foggy haze surrounds you.
I can hear it in your voice, that doesn’t sing to your passions to the world. Your once boisterous, carefree and cheerful voice now sounds small, sorrowful and defeated.
I can tell by the way your head hangs low, the feeling of defeat looms over you.
I can tell, by the way that your heart feels like it has been crushed. It feels like it is beating at half speed. It feels like it’s beating for nothing.
Well, you are allowed to hurt. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to fall to your knees and fall apart.’ You are allowed to feel down and out, just allow yourself the grace and love you put out to those around you. Be gentle on yourself. You are hurting. You are allowed to.
A letter to myself, during a time where I hurt the most.
I heard that Anger is a secondary emotion. I want to scream And tell them to look at me. I want to beat them up So they feel like I do. But I think I actually just want to cry And stop myself from hurting.
If teardrops could be bottled There’d be swimming pools filled by models Told, “A tight dress is what makes you a *****” If “I love you” was a promise Would you break it, if you’re honest? Tell the mirror what you know she’s heard before I don’t wanna be you anymore