Music, poetry, art, and rockstars
27 posts
The summer air is turning chilly, I heard your name today and my heart didn’t sink. I think I’m moving on. It’s bittersweet, the good times we had and the sour way we ended. I just wonder how you’ve been. Is being alone all that you hoped for? Was it worth it?
You look at me and I feel the sun tracing my lips. You’re selfless and kind. Everything you say holds meaning. You love me and you make me feel loved. So many bad experiences led me to you and every experience was worth it to be able to hold you and love you to the best of my ability. I love you.
It hurts but the pain reminds me I’m alive!!! What is the point of life if you’re not loving and growing!!! I feel so alive and it’s so beautiful!!!
Yeah, I did want more.
I gave you my whole identity, my life, my time, my trust, my innocence.
I wrote poems, burned cds, took you around the world.
I wanted more from you. I wanted all of you.
I know your actions came from a place of hurt, but that doesn’t excuse them. I don’t hate you for that, but how could you treat someone you love like that?
Loving me is like loving cheap earrings.
They’re pretty and shimmer when you put them under light. You wear them everyday until they start to tarnish, the silver wipes away and leaves a rusty rose gold. They turn your skin green and make your piercing holes black. You love them until you can’t stand to look at them any longer. You love them until you can buy an expensive replica. You love them until you find something better.
They hurt me so bad i redownloaded tumblr
If the chaos of my life ever settles down, I want a nice house with a big yard, a dog and maybe a few cats. I want to wake up and spend the morning roaming the kitchen in my underwear. I want to spend my days writing and maybe pick up some new hobbies.
I want to fall asleep next to you every night and fall in love with the thought of being alive.
I want you to hold me together while I tear myself apart
Mother, the growing pains are unbearable. Give me the past 5 years back. Let me feel the sand on my feet again. Let me crawl into your arms and sink into your skin. When will the sound of my own name be familiar again? When will I be a kid again?
I wish I had a stronger connection with my mother.
She knows nothing about me, and the more I dwell on it, the more I realize I know nothing about her either.
I wish I wasn’t stupid.
I can’t do math, my writing is shit, I can’t pay attention, I can’t sing, I can’t dance, I’m not confident, I’m not pretty.
I’m watching all my friends get ahead of me. They excel in all their subjects so easily. I’m struggling to get passing grades.
I know I’m smart, I just wish I wasn’t the only one aware.
I’m smart enough to understand the look they give me when I ask stupid questions. I’m smart enough to understand why they act like they don’t know me in the hallways.
I just wish I had something to show for myself so I wouldn’t be so overlooked. I just wish I wasn’t stupid enough to believe everyone that doubts me.
I just wish I wasn’t so so stupid.
I love growing up with my friends; I looked at a good friend this morning and realized how much she’s grown since we met. I guess I’ve grown too.
“I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” I AM GOING TO RIP MY FACE OFF.
I think the human experience is the constant struggle to be perfect, yet none of us are. None of us never will be.
When you said, “is this okay?” I nearly lost my breath, nobody has ever asked me that before.
Craving intimacy.
Kisses on foreheads, gentle touches, sweet words, to be treated like I’m fragile even though I’ve built my walls out of stone. For someone to kiss me anywhere but my mouth. My mouth is dirty, filled with blood and strangers spit, spewing filthy, clumsy words. Treat me like I’m brand new, never been used, not dirty.
I carry the weight of my parents mistakes.
It’s so heavy, I just want to make you proud.
I hate that there’s a stranger that walks around with my secrets.
Never again will someone make me feel the way you did.
Never again will someone know me the way you did.
Itching to be understood, but craving to runaway without a trace
I hope you’ll fall inlove with life someday. I hope that you’ll look over and see someone, or something, that makes you love everything unconditionally.
Cold, numb acceptance towards the fate that's disposed upon everyone.
Death chases us till we're stuck at a dead end, why are we running?
I love you like my heart beat, constantly and consistently. (And it will kill me if it stops)