she not only was indecisive about which mind to use, but also how she felt now your own heart is bruised

the pain from our memories were nothing compared to the pain you caused me

how did our destruction, cause such pleasure?

a message from a feeble heart, to it’s blinded owner

bloodshot eyes and the heart’s obscured emotions flowing down my face like a river yet you stay stagnant staring at you seeking sympathy but discovering hysterics yet you are still “fond” of me gazing at you but not in awe only resentment wanting and waiting for you to stare at me and see the heated droplets of pain sliding effortlessly down my skin yet you glance at me noticing my tears but don’t bother to tend to them yet people expect me to feel loved would you have felt loved, if i did the same to you?

But how is love obtained, if a lover is not desired?

yet the more i yearn for it to vanish, the thicker and more heart-rending it becomes

so continue to hope through space’s confusion you’ll make it through even with your contusions

so why waste more time surrounded by the routinely quandaries and darkness, when death can show me the light and its benevolent rays?

she was willing to get rid of all her problems yet she was only causing more for herself but she only saw the problem being him when it was really her dwelling on the past

i’d rather we’d be close friends, than distance memories

Just goes to show that when we are loved, even if it’s clear or not, we don’t always accept that love. Maybe it’s because of the person, or the timing, or ourselves. There are so many variables that affect our love in ways that are both beautiful, yet inimical.

she didn’t shout loud enough, she wasn’t shouting at all she was hurting, but no one knew

from the girl whose significance is being questioned but the person who's questioning it, is the same person who thinks she isn't significant at all, herself