it is nights like these that make think of a time where we could be. A place without fears or shallow judgements, a place where I am strong of character, a place where things didn’t threaten to spiral out of control.
You would stroke my hair, curling it in your fingers as I lay on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. I would sing along with the Disney movies and you would too. You’d cook me dinner and I would never leave your house, and I’d only miss you when you go to work.
But that can only be in dreams, for in reality there is far too much at stake.

one-mic:

Tulips for her two lips. Roses for her rosey cheeks. Petals to say I love you, I love you not. There were Irises too, for her two irises who spoke true like cobalt blue. Then you realize a fucking bouquet doesn’t really mean shit. You take her out to Wing Stop and things just got so much better. In full bloom. One big room, full of bad..

You honestly don’t realize how fucked up everything is between us, do you?

I have to write a song by Friday, oh woe is me.

incandescenc-e:

At least once in our lives, I think we all need to break, somehow. I think we all need to experience a kind of free-fall into an ocean of our mistakes and regrets and the things that finally pushed us over the edge, to be lowered down to the deepest levels of our emotional capacity with our hands in the mud and the knees of our jeans scraped and dirtied by all the hurtful things we’ve said and done to others and all the hurtful things that have been said and done to us in return, in order to reach a kind of catharsis. We need to drink until we’re sober and cry until we’re dry and hurt until we become numb with the sensation of overwhelming loneliness, because it is then that we have a base zero from which to build the foundation of our strength, place a brick of steely determination where our weaknesses once stood and learn and grow from the accumulation of all the hopeless times we almost gave up but didn’t. Although I do concede to the fact that the phrase is relevant in the descriptions of some situations, I don’t necessarily believe entirely in the saying that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.. but what doesn’t kill you teaches you a little something about survival, that’s for certain.

“I’m terrified of it all.”
A long time ago, when the sun shone bright against my face, and the grass and leaves felt soft, supply, beautiful against skin, I loved a boy. I loved him with all I had, with everything in my heart. Then the beautiful world turned into my personal hell, step into my eyes and watch every colour in the spectrum turn grey, then and only then will you understand. Feel the numbness I felt, as you grow accustomed to the constant pain in your chest. Wipe the blood from the wounds inflicted without thinking, as you try to hold yourself together. Then, and only then will you know why it is, that I am the way I am. 
Yet slowly, the sun began to peek back through the intense dark of the clouds, the flowers began to bloom again and the trees no longer scratched, clawed, maimed me. They felt beautiful again. I smile I had replaced with tear filled eyes and streaked make-up, found it’s way back to me. It stayed. I became, better, though different. Shaped and changed by the experiences of the ‘dark days’. Though still as willing to forgive, I will never forget. I find my self weighing my risks rather than jumping in heart and all as I once might have. I am not the same girl. I’m still scared, scarred by the time I would kill to never have to return to again. I’m terrified of getting hurt again. I’m terrified of the dark clouds that could roll back in.

And I can feel the light pouring into my skin, through every crack, burn, scar and mark, I myself, and whole have made. I can feel the warmth of the sun dive deep into my bones. I can hear the crickets silence in my brain, and a sweet melody begin to play. I have plenty of fire, I need not another to give me that. I need a soft daisy in the spring. Gentle, kind, loving. The promise of a better day.

(via jeakm)