“I always thought I would be smarter than that. But when you’re living in it, the explosive looks like humanity. The manipulation looks like genuine regret. It’s so subtle. You can’t cut people off the moment their toe crosses the line. Because we all get too excited sometimes. So the first time your toe crossed my line, I picked up that line and I moved it and I called it compromise. After all, you were quick to apologize. So we moved on and then it happened again. But this time, you had been so upset. Who could blame you for not noticing that line when your vision was blurred from the tears in your eyes. So I gave you a hug and I picked it up and I moved it and then it happened again. But maybe that time, it was my fault. I didn’t draw the line bold enough. How were you supposed to know it was there? You can’t read my mind. So we talked about it and let it slide. After all, that’s what communication looks like. And in the in-betweens, you stayed on your side and I stayed on mine and we laughed and we danced and everything was fine. Until the day that I realized you had nine tenths of the room. That was the day you accused me of crossing your line to get to the door.”— Crossing Your Line, V.P.
i found solace in the stars,
for they’re where i found you
but then i remember the pain you caused,
and the stars become foreign again
This might come as a shock to some of you but saying “I’m not informed enough on this particular topic to have an opinion” is about 100 times more respectable than being misinformed
I know I have broken your heart, I want you to know that.
I heard the cracking of it as I walked away or was that mine? It is so hard to tell in those situations.
That is what I really want you to know, that I didn’t want to let go, but I felt my fingers slipping and knew waiting for the fall from love to kill me would be excruciating. So I started my misery early, hoping I could make my suffering short.
I also what you to know that I am sorry, more than anything. Not just sorry for hurting you, but sorry for myself as selfish as that is. This broken beating in my chest feels like it will never heal, and I don’t know if I deserve it to stop.
But I know that we would have ended either way, at least this way I shoulder most of the guilt. We were both slipping if we are being honest, but I was the only one brave enough to save us both even though I knew you would hate me for it.
Most of all I want to know, that I don’t regret it. I know it seems like I do, but I don’t. Because you hate me for hurting you and that is much easier to deal with when I hate myself for the same thing. Let us be honest dear, we would have ended up hating each other if we let life take its course, and hating you would be even more painful than hating myself.
One day, one rhyme- Day 1565
Mine is a castle made of thorns
Yours is made of smooth stones.
Mine is harsh colours scraped and bled
Yours is in pastel tones.
We’re never meant to be so close,
To be seen side by side-
The resultant comparison
Is stark and hard to hide.
My castles roots lie underground
Yours reach up to the sky,
You ask me why we cannot be
And that’s the reason why.
We couldn’t be more different
And it is plain to see
That in a castle such as mine
You’d never be happy.
I am, I am, I am
A demon trapped in an angel’s body
And an angel tormented by a demon’s voice
I am a shape underneath a pile of blankets in an unlit room
I am a body aching with growing pains
That take the form of heartbreak and depression
I am too many things to quantify
So when someone says they know me
I want to ask them what their secret is
And how they can decipher the code and comprehend the contradictions
That make up my spirit
I am, I am, I am.
okay I know that there are terrible terrible people out there but listen
I also know that there are people who stop and smile at tiny plants growing out of sidewalk cracks, people who laugh so loud they snort, people who compliment others randomly, people who take pictures of their friends because they love seeing their friends happy, people who ramble about things that they’re passionate about, people who blush and stutter, people who are kind, people who are warm, people who love and love and love and love.
(Source: queensbees)
Yes, you have some parts of me
And yes, I know it’s true
That every single part you have
Belongs only to you.
I gave up my identity
And did away with pride.
I let myself be disemboweled
By waves from your loves tide,
But even when the storms hit
Or blue sky turns to black,
I’d sooner crawl home incomplete
Than take my pieces back.
Yes, you have some parts of me
And yes, I know it’s true
That every single part I gave
Will now fit only you.