And I am so sorry,
Because no matter how much I love you,
I will probably always feel distant.

I could love you more than anything in the world, but at the end of the day, I'll still feel a million miles away.

And it doesn't mean I love you any less,
When I drift away.

I just don't know what else to do,
I'm weak and I can't help it.

I'm sorry.

i still can't believe you had the audacity to come back.

And you know what's insane? Our method of beating time was setting the broken clock in my room to the time he got there, closing my black curtains tight, and then sitting in my bed, pretending everything had stopped. Pretending like the sun wasn't going down outside, like the world wasn't still moving around us. Acting like every clock in the world didn't exist, because my room was suddenly the only world in existence and there was nothing else. Because that moment is saved forever, in both our memories and the book of the universe, and that clock won't tick until he's back for me. That moment is going on forever in my room, time stopped until his return, and I want nothing else.

my tears have finally managed to fall.

remember when you asked me to marry you?

You leave the smell of *** and cigarettes behind on my skin and it's hurting me, it's stinging my nose and choking me everytime I breathe and my head hurts, my heart hurts because your eyes are so beautiful but you're ******, you kept whispering that you loved me but it hurt and my parents hate you and all my friends hate you but I don't hate you, I want to keep you.

I feel musings and poetry on my tongue, in the back of my throat, on the tips of my fingers. Letters never written or never sent are inked across my brain and words unsaid are branded beneath my skin. I am composed of writing now, my greatest love. It will be okay.

i can't stop shaking...

So there's this ghost I know. It's of the you that's gone. He sneaks into my bed at night and slips beneath the covers and holds my hand with his icy, not-quite-real hand and I can almost feel him next to me. It's like he's almost real, strumming his guitar and brushing my hair back, and in the pitch black of night, he could be a physical being. Except he isn't, I'm not sure if he's a ghost or a manifestation my mind made up because I can't accept the person I loved so wildly has become someone I don't understand, someone whom I can't even hold a conversation with anymore. I don't mind that he exists in my bed in the dark now, except in my half-awake half-dream state, I can almost smell him, almost feel him.

But he's not truly there. I am alone with something my mind made up, or maybe I share my bed with a ghost, a part of a person's soul who loved me so deeply it split from the rest of him so he could be by my side forever. I don't know. I don't care.

it's been 34 days and i've forgotten the feel of your lips on mine, as well as bits of our very last conversation.

*and i'm really not sure if that's a relief or a tragedy.

my tears refuse to fall again.

incapable of breathing once again.

and my veins are singing to be freed from my skin.

you are way too beautiful and alive to fall for a girl like me, babydoll. save yourself while you can.

the anger is starting to burn through.

i'm fighting but i still want to die...

i am wondering if this is what a panic attack feels like

nobody even knows your last name

fingers locked together, but something feels different. looking over and thinking, "oh."

*because the hand connected to mine isn't yours anymore.

where are you?

the more pain i'm in, the worse i become.

i am relapsing.

i feel like an addict going through withdrawal.

why aren't you in my arms?

You didn't call and the oxygen in my lungs is poison.

and my smile has come leaping back.

My friends say I'm building a bridge back to hell by getting back in touch with you, but that's okay.

If hell is where you're waiting for me, hell is where I'll go.

*Chasing something that died a long time ago.

the sound of the gunshot will be the final scream i could never release.

you've got a galaxy in your eyes, *but it isn't mine..

i have seen what believing has done and i am no longer sure i want any part of it.

the way i'm spiralling out now, i am in no position to make promises.

i wish i were holding her hand for a reason other than to hurt you.

i have yet to learn my lesson about playing with fire.

remembering your long lashes and wide eyes-brilliant, with the stars shining in them-makes my heart stop...

and right now, i just want to hold you so tightly that you fill the spaces between my ribs. i long for you to become the blood in my veins and the air that i breath, because i want all of you...even the parts invisible to me.

and i find that i have been thinking about death a lot as of late.

two things that are never meant to be.

*don't pretend you're sorry.

my heart is not an instrument you can just play.

and i want to apologize for not loving you like i should have, but for the record *you don't love me either.

you looked like a young god in black.

it's almost midnight and your memory is slowly killing me.

as the night sets in, my demons begin to eat me alive.

i want to float beneath the waves until all is forgotten.

Finally forgetting you.

and if i were ruled by something other than my heart, i swear, i wouldn't be doing this.

numbness sinks into my bones.

i am afraid of the jealous, wild person my broken heart has made me.

trying to remind myself that i don't need you.

i hope you're happy without everything we could have been.*

[p.s. *i'm lying]

you are what makes me want to die, and what i live for at the same time.