fuck feelings

why did i do this to myself

[aspacetospaceout]

How could I hope to explain to someone that my sapphic tendencies are devotional?

That my desire is that of worship.

You do not find God on an app.

She is not going to be found amongst speed-daters, hook ups, or dancers in the club.

It has to be divine timing,

The stars will align.

Prayers must be made where she will find them.

Within love,

In myself.

[apageofmyheart]

2:34pm; May 14th 2024.

I’m sat on my fire escape as I type today. Lively wind brushes my arms and raises the hairs I haven’t shaved away. I can feel the suns shine, but it’s been hidden away selfishly by clouds ready to pour over. The cooled touch of the wind and sun keeps me alert on such a lazy day; I am contempt with my chills. The trees on my street are finally full of life and are greener than ever. Green leaves are perched and placed in bunches upon once barren branches; a thank you from the tree's inners for keeping itself standing in darker conditions prior. A gift of beauty for its strength and survival in the brute of it all.  

As I sit face to face with the skinny-kept oak tree placed on the sidewalk in front of me, I can’t help but believe we’ve helped each other grow these past few months. The branches in front of my escape have been killed off – in attempt not encapsulate the space already occupied by built structures with no room left to grow or share. Although part of the tree is quite literally dying, the rest flourishes a bright green shared by the rest of the trees on the street. An eye-catching beaut, she’s grown taller and perkier since the winter, channeling the energy saved from her dying limbs in front of me to skyrocket above. 

She seems wiser than I am. It makes sense, she’s been around longer than I have. 

The tree waits patiently for a storm to rip the dead branches from her body, to take away what is molted and rotten upon her. My eyes are caught between the contrasting branches, caught between death and living, and I realize how strenuous it must be for her to wait. While her arms don’t move in quite the same way to peel dead flesh from her body and run away screaming as fast and far as possible – I have arms, and hands, and even opposable thumbs, to do exactly that. There is no need to sit docile with my legs crossed for a terrible, horrible, no-good storm to rip what should be lost from my body – or call up the state to remove it with a chainsaw. I am fully capable of standing upon my two legs and scaling off what remains molded and crusted on me. I am in control of what is left behind.

While some pieces may have mended and melted into my skin, most of what is unwanted is usually easy to remove. The parts that have left me uncomfortable in my own can all be removed after some jostling. The aches and shakes left within don’t have to remain forever; there is no need to wait for a doctor to mend my own wounds. 

The wind settles to a steady stream, keeping the street’s movement alive. Rustling leaves mix with the sound of rolling skateboard wheels that scratch the ground at a steady pace. The man riding clutches the back of a girl’s bicycle gleefully as they make their way down the street in synchronicity. Green leaves guard the returning sun’s shine from my eyes as I peer at what life is happening around me. A smile settles on my face, and I prepare to head back inside – climbing over green tequila bottles empty of liquor and full of everything else.  

[apageofmyheart]

damage brightens.

my ribs sink and crush my guts

stab and poked holes

through, inside me

which allow the light

to shine from my wounds.

[ginwhitlock]

- ac

[apageofmyheart]

when am i going to get over the feeling of missing you?

[apageofmyheart]

i’ve been drunk since you left baby

[nightingale-1999]

[compulsive]

[juansendizon]

I’m a soft believer in the wisdom of loving someone in such a way that sets them free because love blossoms in appreciation. Love blossoms when it’s watered with gentleness, tenderness, and care. Love blossoms when it is given the space to be beautiful on its own.

Juansen Dizon (via juansendizon)

[krepiert]

[apageofmyheart]

how am i supposed to heal when you come back everytime i’m happy?

[apageofmyheart]

the world sets you up so you’re waiting to go on

[apageofmyheart]

i wish i had the courage to just use a knife and end it all. why do i have to be afraid of knives

[apageofmyheart]

i’m scared of being happy because i know it always ends, and the happier i am the worse the sadness gets

[apageofmyheart]

ive slowly felt myself fade over the years, even when i was depressed i was still happy and vibrant, always with quick comebacks and funny jokes. but now, i look in a mirror and i don’t even recognize who’s there. the witty comments disappeared, along with my bubbly attitude. i’ve become a shell of once was. i miss the old me.

[apageofmyheart]

i give myself up because i believe i am not worthy of the kind of love where you adore the twinkle in my eyes. i try to use my body as a love language, to make someone excited when they see me. i believe that just maybe, if i give myself to you you’ll want me a little bit longer. but i’m tired of it. i’m tired of seeing myself as just another number on a count. i want to feel wanted for once in my life. i want to run into someone’s arms after not seeing them a few days, as if all the time in the world has passed between those moments, and as if no time moves while we stay there. i want to be held while i sleep, knowing the safest i’ll ever be is in their arms. i want the whole world to know i’m with them; i want to show them off, and be shown off. i’m tired of being a secret, tired of hiding in closets, tired of not feeling special. i want to feel like i mean something. when will i be that important to someone? when will i be that important to myself?

[apageofmyheart]

why do i give my body up to people who are just going to use me. why do i treat my body as if it isn’t the best gift i’ve been given. why do i use my body for attention. why can’t i be loved for me and not what i look like? when will i love me for me?