I wish there was a validation that you ever gave like you promised. I don’t have much reason to believe in you, but do many not to. You were an ideal that can never be achieved, at least not for me.
I look at that scar above my lip everyday when I brush my teeth. A thousand things have ran through my head but the thought that strikes me most is a question: am I that undeserving of kindness?
I think I create cruelty in my life. I know how to set every good thing aflame, and have never held onto any lasting goodness.
I have tried to teach myself differently but I know only how to be a too bright star, nothing worth wishing on.
I carry these scars left from others just passing through my world, careless. My bruised body and evidence of violation, reminders of abuse when I gave only love—it frightens me.
I don’t think you even listen to what I have to say. I hope you read every word, though.
I want you to look at me and forget the notions you’ve built on who I am. I want you to feel as if I’m a breath if fresh air, innocent. I am no cruel creature, and my crimes are against no man.
When you look at me forget what you think you know of me and remember that you have yet to take the time to try to love me; I look towards you with kindness in my eyes because I only know how to touch gently, with fear.
I had to reblog because I just fell more in love with this woman
Oh man, guess who’s going to Bonnaroo this year? :3
There are a lot of vacancies in my life now, places you used to reside: the left side of the bed, in front of the window in the shower, hovering in doorways, over my shoulder.
I’ve been feeling drafts everywhere in my apartment, and a small slice of me knows it’s your little ghost parts leaving the premises. I feel breezes coming from some hidden part in my closets, through the floor, in bed, in the shower, in the very middle of the kitchen: I’ve kissed you in so many places, in so many lifetimes, that I wonder if I will always feel you take your leave.
I thought it impossible, at first, that so many tasks in my normal life should catch me off guard, undeniably aware of the absence of something that once was there. There are moments when I feel it’s only right to crumple and fall into the caverns of remembering, the times I concede to myself that things are different.
Wells spring within me when I consider your eyes and small moments, the things that make you more child than man.
I wish you’d never filled these parts of my life, just to drain them once more.
I got a new tattoo! It means endurance.
You’re the kind of person I used to be afraid of.
When I first learned to share my heart, I worried over sharing with the wrong kind of person: cruel, without compassion, dagger covered and prone to hurting. A person can chew up your heart and devour you, if they care to try; I have learned this lesson, the dread of it sketched along the underside of my mind a thousand times, over scar tissue and more scar tissue.
For days now: I have sat with my wrath, turning the taste over again and again in my mouth. I should know it well, a small entity dwelling in the pocket of my heart right beside the pocket that holds my littlest ghost.
(There has always been both sides of this sword, always.)
It is people like you that can mutate love into such an unrecognizable thing: ready to distrust—with reason— and angry like a wounded animal, with more reason than I care to admit to have enabled.
I am learning the edges of this wrath. I remind myself— it exists for a reason. It has always existed in this lioness blood, I am sure of it: the agility in my pounce, my eagerness to howl and fight, my inability to take the leftovers you tried to toss my way any longer.
I have no reason to fear you. I cannot fear what I cannot respect.
Just sayin, this is my new favorite photo.
Lover, come back to bed.
Sink yourself back into my skin,
under the layers and layers of
H U R T.
You felt so right sunken in with the secrets,
nestled with the bones and battle scars
that I cannot stop fighting for.
With a warm body beside me,
I feel invincable.
As if I was made of wishes and steele
instead of misguided notions and neurons.
You hollowed my bone marrow out,
replaced it with something that tastes a lot like