All the things I never said

Laura. 22. Brazilian. Someone once told me that the only way you could really face and understand your feelings is writing them down. Writing the things you felt, the ones you wished you had felt, or had said, or didn’t say.  So, I decided to write this blog with all the things I never said.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

The fire burned out everything good about you And there was never that much to begin with So you decided to avenge yourself seven times And watch the whole world burn like you once did.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

We weren't in love, honey, but pretend well enough to fool even ourselves.

Love was a game of pretend but no one ever won - Laura L. 

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

I should've known nothing good could come from a match falling in love with gasoline. We turn ourselves into a fire, let it consume us. We relish as the flames turn our bones into smoke. We burn bright and fast in what feels like forever and not long enough. This is a twisted kind of love, a special kind of hurt, but we rather burn alive than feel nothing at all.

I rather burn out than wither away - Laura L. 

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

Our love was a language only we knew how to speak. Now I find myself pronouncing the words with same my lips you used to kiss and I look at your eyes seeking recognition, looking for a sign – small as it may be – that you can still understand what I’m saying.

Our love got lost in translation by Laura L. (via allthethingsineversaidtoanyone)

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

“Since when do you feel alone?” “Sometime between the age of five and now. In fact, I don't know if one day I ever felt accompanied by anything besides my loneliness.”

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write - Laura L. 

[victorsartgallery]

Inspiring gif

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

"Time heals all wounds" they say, but how can it heal when time seems to be still? After he went away, time stopped and our last meeting became a static painting.  Like a tear falling down the cheek in a photograph, forever frozen in time.

My watch ran out of batteries and my wounds keep spilling blood (by Laura L.)

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

The universe out there is vast and infinite, but even in galaxies far away from our Milky Way, there isn't a star that can shine as bright as the light inside his eyes.

The constellations in his eyes and other mysteries of the universe - Laura L.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

Poetry bleeds from her wrists like an endless river that can't help but run its course. If the river stops flowing, the water stagnates and the earth might suck it dry. She might cease to exist.

Therefore she keeps writing. Keep letting out words so they don't choke her. Poetry is the air in her lungs. It liquefies her insides, turning everything into ink.

Some people write because they can; some do it because they want to; others because they like it.  She writes because it's the only way she found to survive.

Poetry is a river which will only stop flowing when I die – Laura L.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

Our love is a roadside museum that no one else visits, just me. I am the curator of a place where the works of art were hung on the walls with thorns and the only statue of the two of us, alone in a corner, tells a story of what we never were.

I'm always waiting for you even though you have never visited – Laura L.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

You’re not in love, Scott. You’re 16 years old. You’re a child.

“You want me to risk my life for your girlfriend?  For your stupid little teenage crush that means absolutely nothing? You’re not in love, Scott. You’re 16 years old. You’re a child.”

You say those words to the newly turned wolf

But he doesn’t listen to what you have to say

His eyes say “What do you know about love?”

You want to tell him you know all about it

About this kind of love that always end in ashes

You know all about the flames hidden behind

Soft deceitful smiles made of kerosene

About soft marble skin and silver blood

You know he won’t listen

Because once upon a time

Someone warned you too

Once upon a time you were him,

Stupidly in love with an Argent girl

Before she burned the love out of you

Love keeps you warm, so why would it be a surprise when it ends in flames?

GIF Source: Zelong

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

– My mother used to tell me that stars are ghosts in the sky – He says to you.

– They are – you reply – Most of them are long dead, but their lights are still traveling through space, creating an illusion they’re still alive.

You never tell him, though, how much you could relate to those lights in space that, like you, are waiting for someone to realize they’re long gone.

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write – Laura L.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

Love to you is a gift from the Gods so that humans would never feel alone again. So that we would always have someone to share our burden with, and then it would never weight enough to keep us from carrying on.

excerpt from:  Please don’t ask me if I love you, I might tell the truth

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

There's something in my chest that I can't remove. It's stuck on my insides and melting them away. I feel as heavy as an anchor but light as a feather, simultaneously stuck where I am and in danger of getting dragged by any wind

always heavy as an anchor but light as a feather  

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

The three guys who had my heart

The first guy put my heart on a glass for display as he did with his. It was never to touch but without the warmth of hands the hearts started to get too cold and the feeling we had for each other froze to death. 

The second one stole my heart from me, just like a thief and his robbery left casualties. He always took whatever he wanted from me until there was nothing else for him to take.

The third one didn’t steal it or tried to display it. “Your heart is yours to give. I won’t take it” he said. So instead, he gave me his.

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

My Love is fingertips made out of shrapnel, not soft skin. My kisses taste like gunpowder, not cherry lips. My love is absence and is void. It’s not a sweet melody like yours, but the ringing left in your ears long after the explosion of a bomb.

excerpt from:  Please don’t ask me if I love you, I might tell the truth

[allthethingsineversaidtoanyone]

Please don’t ask me if I love you, I might tell the truth

“Do you love me?” you asked and might as well had asked me about the secrets of the universe by your tone of voice, the way your mouth curled around that word I refused to say yet you could throw at the wind so easily, like it was not as heavy as the earth itself. 

Love to you is a gift from the Gods so that humans would never feel alone again. So that we would always have someone to share our burden with, and then it would never weight enough to keep us from carrying on.

Love is a river so full inside of you that it overflows and finds its way to other people, to nature, to all the things in the universe. When the water runs its course, then the love comes back to you.

To me, love was always a curse. Something that was given to us just to show us how the world could be so full of light and meaning and then deny us its warmth.

Love is a sentiment that always leaves destruction in its wake. Love is what there is after a war takes place, it’s a battleground. Love is a shell of a person after a bomb went off inside of them.

My Love is fingertips made out of shrapnel, not soft skin. My kisses taste like gunpowder, not cherry lips. My love is absence and is void. It’s not a sweet melody like yours, but ringing left in your ears long after the explosion of a bomb.

Thus, my answer to you is “no”. Because I don’t love you in the way you deserve to be loved. However, sooner or later, I’ll have to admit my feelings to you. Because, with my insides burning and my lungs filling up with smoke, I know the only way to survive is running into the river.

Please don’t ask me if I love you, I might tell the truth - Laura L.