the burn on my tongue
takes me back to maybe the most natural conversation I've had.
the burn on my tongue
hurts
but gives me a comforting feeling
I've never been more perplexed.
i hate you but I don't
because the burn on my tongue is just like you
bitter sweet agony
loving memory
of painful mockery.
what is it with you?
is it your face?
your way of doing things?
your issues?
I'm in the wrong place
But I know that if I leave i'll miss you.
I don't know what to ******* do.
You're the person that brings and takes away my smile.
You're the one who makes me feel... real.

i have always had this worry that i could be missing the great things that i could be doing with my soulmate.
how if i don't find this person, time will be taken away from us.
but then i realise that once you find that person

time stops.

only the two of you can
glide through time or
relax through time,
enjoy through time because it doesn't matter how long you have been with that person.
it's the quality of the moments that you will remember and cherish the most with one another.

-D.L.

some days are colder than they are
warm.
and others are like stars in the sky
-lanterns in an otherwise endless night.

some days you wonder if you should try to leave at all,
if you should just go back to your books,
your music.
and other times you show your face to the world,
dance in clothes that you no longer hide in.

some days you agree that you’re ugly,
worthless,
useless,
and you allow them to draw their brushes across your faces,
making you pretty.

pretty. you’d never know.

and others say we tell them that we’re all beautiful,
but we sure aren’t pretty,
and there’s nothing wrong with our insides,
or perhaps the way we’ve chosen to show ourselves
-it’s all perfect.

every ugly bit.

some days we feel as if our worries,
heartache,
sadness,
emptiness
make this life worthless,
and we believe that that’s all we have
-that they’re worth ending it all over.

we’re wrong.

nothing’s worth that
-there are beautiful things like love,
courage,
smiles,
songs,
and our very own lives.

as ****** up as we may think they are.

So little time I have
To do all that I want
Even though I’m relatively young,
I cannot help but think about
How limited my time on this planet is.
Much time is spent worrying,
Either about the past,
Or what is to come in the future.
If only there was a way to stop
Thinking about this-
It makes me go mad