Feb 18, 2016
I’m struggling so hard to make it matter so that when the time comes, I can say, “Yes, I remember.”
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I’m struggling so hard to make it matter so that when the time comes, I can say, “Yes, I remember.”
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a vs L
Adoration is what you should fear. Not love. Love is much more basic: “I care about you.” Adoration is intense: “You are my personal high.” I would’ve only ever given you love.
three x the shame
You would’ve been a nice memory that I’d love to replay until I’ve forgotten. But we run thin and the metaphors I write are just pushing air. There is no story here.
its a strange, strange feeling
Writing is a strange feeling, like a foreign aunt that's dropped in to say she's here to stay, but there's no trust in her love. There's no mutual trust in this passion either.
I used to love words.
The flexibility, the fluidity and the ease.
Now it all looks so rigid, a military stroke that needs to serve a purpose with every punch of the button. Each word should have a goal and a purpose. Once upon a time this was an art form where I could describe silence through a riot of clicking, breathing and music on repeat.
Coming back to this thing I loved could be described as reconnecting with an old romance. It's all a little "been there, done that," but the residual high is still there. It's still nice. Feelings and all that.
I haven’t been sad for a very long time. This rotting feeling, where the earth’s gravitational pull sits in the shape of a disk beneath you like the center of the universe swallowing itself in its core, silencing the air through willing suffocation... it’s so very lovely.
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just before i kiss you
I look at you, and before I kiss you I want to make sure that one day One day, I'll fall in love with you Not today. Not now. But in the future. And if you're okay with that possibility, then, just missing the corner of your lip - two centimeters where a tiny sun spot lies - I'll kiss you.
Sometimes I feel like words written on paper, words spoken as a contact between two people, in hope, in trust, in faith, are meaningless. They are buoys unanchored with intentions to mark a certain territory, but when the real storm comes, they're lost at sea. Sometimes, that is what words mean to me: rearranged letters strategically placed together to manipulate feeling.
your sentiment is a lie when you can't even be bothered to get the metaphor right.