there’s something so deeply and inherently terrifying about romantic love and attachment; it’s like giving someone a neatly written postcard detailing all of the various ways in which they could take your heart and pick it apart into a heap of broken fragments.

it’s the fact that you were so agonisingly in love with your sadness that i became (always was?) an afterthought. it’s like mum always said, “you are powerless in the face of someone who doesn’t want to be helped”.

i wanted to soak my skin in your madness and chaos.
to take all of the mismatched jigsaw pieces of your mind and will them to fit together enough to love me back even a little bit.

one day that you will realise that they are just boys. they are boys with closed-off hearts and cynical minds. with their inherent need to drain and empty you of everything you have to offer; with the burning desire to be both fixed and left alone all at the same time.

i actively avoid thinking about the estimated number of minutes i spent trying to burn the imprint of your fingers out of my lungs.
oh honey, one day all these valiant notions of self-sacrifice are going to get you hurt; you won’t know how to tell him that you are in pain.
                                       that every time your knuckles brush against my lips my heart feels like it’s going to give up on itself.

i don’t know what to do with the knowledge that i am heartbroken over someone who is indifferent to my plight, someone who watched the cracks deepen and spread yet still chose to walk away. that’s the problem with feelings; you can’t simply pick them up and store them in a jar for later.

you left and i’m stuck with limbs which ache from the sheer weight of the feelings that i can’t shake.

with gentle fingers full of promise and parted lips you drew confessions from me that i swore would never come; you were messy and indignantly proud of it. your mess leaked into mine and for a few precious minutes we coexisted in our state of disarray.

your hands knew me far better than your heart ever did;

it must have been so dark up there, on the pedestal that i nailed you to. a martyr for your cause, i tried to tie your wrists to mine in a desperate fear of being alone again.

all i wanted from you was to coexist but you were never shy about telling me that, for you, that wasn't enough.

i'm sorry
if i have ever
caused you pain
pain in different circumstances
that i've always denied
im sorry if i was always a problem
and if i wasnt there when you needed me
im sorry if i never listened
and im sorry if i was as stupid
as you always told me
and im sorry
for being so selfish
for forgetting
that you also feel
that you had your own way of telling
that you hurt too
im sorry
if my sorry isnt enough
but to tell you honestly
its all i have right now
and im just really
sorry
if i was always never enough.

I,
Linger in the pain caused by you,
Oppress the uncontrollable feelings I feel for you,
Value every thought, moment, memory I have with you,
Embrace the sensation of seeing you,
Yield to the might I see in you,
Obsess over every detail about you,
Understate my love for you..
I love you.

she was
as healthy as a baby
when she woke up
she was as optimistic
as a child
as she walked the paths
that could be the
next thing to death
but every time
she slept
she was as sickly
as an old woman suffering
from a disease
for she sniffed,
her eyes puffy
wishing that she never woke up once more
and it was always the cycle
she wasn't the problem
the people were
but she always thought
she was the problem
so one night
she didnt want to be sick anymore
and it was one moment
that time had to close his eyes
for a sad girl living in a sad world
and a knife
wasnt always a good combination.