The most beautiful moment in life

I hate who I am
I hate who I have become

I wasn’t always like this
Or I guess I was never as bad as this

Maybe that is why my past haunts me
I lost something I once had
Something that came so naturally

I lost myself in many ways

But at the same time I’ve changed in so many ways for the better
Well better to some
Sometimes I feel like even the changes that are “positive” are not truly positive for me and who I am

I needed things to stay the same so i could be the same
I know change is good
But I feel like somewhere along the way I messed up and now I can’t even stand being around myself

Looking to the past is like undoing everything that has lead me up to the present day me
It’s like I can forget all the days leading up to my demise

i miss being able to sleep
but my heart hurts when i'm not chasing the night

Well ****

I feel stuck

Do you think I’m crazy?

I think the worst thing about the way I’m living these days is that my self destruction isn’t even fun

somewhere between the drink that burns my throat and Anderson Paak's voice, i find my thoughts drifting to the same place they always do

looking at the shattered tea cup on the floor feels so familiar
do you think if I reached out to touch it, that I would feel a gentle caress on my own skin?
-
if I swept it up
and heard it drag across across the floor
would I make a sound? what if I moaned ever so lightly?
how would that make you feel?
-
and if I left the shattered pieces to just lay there
would you pick them up?
I imagine you standing over them
towering, with your 6ft frame
-
I know you would see the beauty in the mess
you might smile
you might bend down for a closer look
maybe you would even touch me
of course you would
-
maybe I would ask you to
maybe I would beg for you to pick up a piece
maybe I would scream for you to clench your first around it and feel the stabbing pain that comes with blood flow

-
in the hallway of our minds place lays a shattered tea cup
and in the palm of our hands lays a piece of it
and in the gaze of our eye is one another
and the only name on your lips is mine

im seeking something, always searching for that one thing that's is right in front of me

people make me feel so empty

if not now, then when?

I speak from experience, whether it's to be mentally, physically or a figment of my imagination, I speak from experience.

the hardest thing about growing up is not knowing what you mean when you say you're tired

He ruined me

Why has nostalgia got such a chokehold on me?????

waiting for someone to turn the key

scarily too good to be true
i see through it
it feels good
to see it
to read it

you're the closest thing i ever had to intimacy , maybe that's why i refuse to let go
every part of me is sickened by you
but i crave you in equal measure

do i love you because i love you?
or do i love you because you've been here since i was a child?
because i don't know anything else but you?

you're the closest thing to home
the thing is, home to me has always been somewhere i've ran away from
but i never forget home

Tell me who you are

i'm scared and i'm on edge

was it real?

****, where will I take myself

you hurt me, and I hated myself for being in pain

It'd be nice if more people interacted with me on here

it all felt so real

Can we trace the lines on this broken mirror and find our way home?

to be by your side
is such a lovely place to cry

can anyone hear me?
or am i just screaming in to the void

I’m
Hurting inside

So weightless
Drifting high way above the clouds
So breathless
Falling slowly far away from the clouds
So silent
Leaving the living slowly
So nothing.

i know just what my eyes look like and i can't even see myself
hell i can't even picture myself
i'm lost in my own wide eyed yet heavy lidded glare

i wonder just how much our distance broke us
grey thoughts to red actions to nothing
a flame that barely licks at me now
a single flame
i don't always feel it
sometimes it burns
sometimes i notice it

but never mind

on a Sunday afternoon I told him that I love him
it took him by surprise
but he said he loves me too
and I know that he truly meant it

I meant it too
I felt every emotion that comes with love and I felt it deeply
It does not matter to me that I have no idea whether it’s platonic or romantic love
It’s still love
And it felt good…it feels good
I went where my emotions lead me to and for once it wasn’t to a dark place

I feel happy
A love that’s not defined
It’s just pure

A person once said to me ‘what is love?’ and they didn’t ask it as a question because it just can’t be questioned
and at the time I didn’t understand but I do now

there isn’t an answer or a definition

today a tear slipped down my face, out of happiness
I have learnt a lot of lessons and I’m glad that I stayed alive to learn them and to keep feeling

I will complain about life tomorrow but at least I felt today. At least I have the hope that I will feel again another day

Thank you for letting me feel the warm rays of happiness on my skin once again

eyes are so important
but i feel that they're too relevant
but why is it a bad thing for eyes to be relevant
maybe it's the 21st century human nature to lust for irrelevant obscurity, to mask our own relevance
because relevance isn't short lived
and we all hate commitment

ever write something that made you feel breathless by the end of it?

Just for one day
please
i just don't want to think

please
i need it to stop
i need to breathe

i need time on my own
to recover and become whole again

give me time
give me space to breathe

Everything that I am today, right now, right this second is everything I wasn't
Everything that im not today, right now, right this second is what will make me

The book was left half open
The dream was only dreamt for half a night
The conversation was left unfinished
The thread unravelled
But....the thought of "what if" continued
Don't forget, don't make 'halfway' a habit
For halfway never gave way to anything of worth

i don't want us to ever grow apart

im just trying to live a different life

poems are raw fragments of thoughts or emotion, a chance to indulge in something as frivolous as acknowledging the truth. A poem is singular, to you and only you, because only you matter, to you

new picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't want to give up

A glimpse of red
that you really just caught sight of

chiffon caresses
that you really just felt

it's night time
see the light

Is it still power if the other person is just weak?

I want someone to write me a poem

I'm scared
i'm so scared

I'm a scared little girl

I may have grown up but inside I'm still a scared little girl

I MAY BE ON THE CUSP OF ADULTHOOD BUT I AM A SCARED LITTLE GIRL, I'M AFRAID OF MYSELF, OF LIFE, OF DEATH, OF THE WORLD AND EVERYONE AROUND ME, MY THOUGHTS, MY BEING, THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS

im scared
and the little girl inside me always had to hide away
silenced in my haste to grow up
the haste of everyone wanting me to grow up
and live far beyond my years
and now that everything is said and done
and the damage is done
and the damage is done
all she wants to do is be a little girl
and she just wants the world to be a little kinder
maybe a little more softer on her

I want the world to see her for what she is

just a ******* the cusp of adulthood
not a woman\don't treat me like a woman just yet

but they never do
they never did

they wanted her to be in their world
where everyone was so much older than her
they shirked their responsibly towards her

and she learnt too much about the world too early


"it's a dark place out there kid, be careful, don't come around here again"

that's all they had to say
THAT'S ALL YOU HAD TO SAY

but never mind
never mind
never mind
NEVER MIND
NEVER MIND]NEVER MIND
NEVER MIND NEVER MIND NEVER MIND

There's a story in every time zone