[poetrybumblebee]

i look at you and see wedding bells and children’s names. i’m so fucking sorry i see a future in you and you can’t even see tomorrow in me.

Bite Marks

Don't Tell Me You Know How I Feel

hickies and late night conversations spare me the details i don’t need much just a little truth nothing too much bite down on the pillow we can call it love bite down on the lies we can misplace the trust

hickies and late night conversations spare me the details i don’t need much just a little truth nothing too much bite down on the pillow we can call it love bite down on the lies we can misplace the trust

i want you to be afraid of losing me. i want the thought of losing me to be engraved in every decision you make. i want you to think: what if she doesn’t come back? what will i do then? maybe i shouldn’t make this decision that risks that. because i’m tired of being on the losing end of the bad decisions people make. i’m tired of being hurt, of my feelings not being put into consideration, of being someone who always comes back and loves through the wreckage. i refuse to come back anymore. i refuse to give out second chances, third chances, chances you never deserved in the first place. because if you make a decision that will destroy me, you are running the risk of losing me. and if you make it anyway, you don’t want me bad enough to keep me. and i’m done being the back-up character in your sad attempt of figuring out what you want. i want someone who knows they love me. i want someone who screams they love me. i want someone who would be devastated if i left. because i deserve that. i deserve someone who never puts our relationship at risk.

“sunday morning and I can’t sleep without you

Talking to you is  like swimming in a hot bathtub in the middle of  winter and the water never turns cold and you never get old. 

i want you to be afraid of losing me. i want the thought of losing me to be engraved in every decision you make. i want you to think: what if she doesn’t come back? what will i do then? maybe i shouldn’t make this decision that risks that. because i’m tired of being on the losing end of the bad decisions people make. i’m tired of being hurt, of my feelings not being put into consideration, of being someone who always comes back and loves through the wreckage. i refuse to come back anymore. i refuse to give out second chances, third chances, chances you never deserved in the first place. because if you make a decision that will destroy me, you are running the risk of losing me. and if you make it anyway, you don’t want me bad enough to keep me. and i’m done being the back-up character in your sad attempt of figuring out what you want. i want someone who knows they love me. i want someone who screams they love me. i want someone who would be devastated if i left. because i deserve that. i deserve someone who never puts our relationship at risk.

sometimes it is better to leave things unsaid to never know why something ends or why it begins or why it has to be that way it is better not to know why goodbyes sometimes can be said without using words why hellos sometimes can be said with eyes it is better not to know sometimes why we do things why we leave why we choose to stay or why we love but deep down we know everything our hearts feel everything

How to love someone with borderline personality disorder: When I tell you that I am happy today and nothing could tear me down, Tell me to go outside. Tell me to write. Tell me to take my medicine. I am sorry. When it is midnight and I am doing my best to convince you I am perfectly fine, do not believe me. I do not need you to keep asking. Just hold me. No words are needed. Just hold me. I am sorry. When I get frustrated because I am not better yet and I insist that drowning myself in alcohol and pills will help, please do not blame yourself. My mind moves far too fast for my body to keep up and sometimes the only way to stop myself from separating into a thousand pieces is to let me get out of my mind. I am sorry. When I stay in bed for a week and I do not talk and I do not eat and I do not move, put me in the bath. Help me wash the memories from my body because God knows I cannot do this alone. I am sorry. When I tell you I do not need my medicine anymore because I am better because I am sane because there are no more cuts bleeding black on my body, remind me that I am more than my disorder and sit with me until I find the strength to throw my head back and swallow myself. I am sorry. When the hallucinations start and I tell you someone is breathing onto my shoulders, it will be impossible to convince me otherwise. When I am in the corner and it is two am and I am shaking, pretend not to see me. Let me find myself. I am sorry. When you walk in and I have a razor blade in my hand; please keep your voice calm. I cannot take anymore rejection. I cannot take anymore blame. My body is heavy with hate and I feel like I do not have another choice but to bleed out my thick blood and breathe in stardust. Take the blade anyway. Hide it from me. I am sorry. I will have my good days. Good weeks. Good months. Sometimes, this disease will live under the stairs of my mind and pretend it does not exist and you will smile. But there is always a storm in me and I promise I am trying to build a safe haven. Please be patient. I am sorry. When I am sinking and my bones are snapping out of place, try to remember that I am the same person that told you I love you with every breath I take. I swear to the moon I am not this disorder. I am trying to be sober without a crutch. I am sorry.

A shot of liquor, To warm the soul. You, my love Are the bottle I never want to finish.

you’re still ignoring me I still feel like cutting because pain treats pain in a weird kind of way but the most pathetic part is I’m more mad at myself than I am at you for treating me this way because I wish I hadn’t done whatever I did to deserve this pain I wish I wasn’t me I wish I could just cease to be and finally leave you alone since that seems to be all you want from me

I’m just playing with words and making scratch marks on the walls Locked in my room for days on end blasting Smiths and avoiding paying my rent What kind of life is this, I’m wondering as I’m trying not to sleep Goodnight songs and goodbye kisses make me sick so please turn that record off There is nothing here but tears and tears are flooding all the chambers of my heart Survival is a strong word, I’d prefer something else much less grandiose Something with a gentleness to it, maybe Something that can light another fire in my eyes Something that can make me feel alright about myself Something that requires thought and wind and breadth and wisdom I’ve been playing with words too much

36 hours