siyah

a diary of the conversations in my head

[bonestosoul]

there are beautiful moments spent with you that i keep replaying in my head. over and over and over again. ive picked them apart so, that theyve started to drift through the fingers of memory and time

[bonestosoul]

do you ever keep away from situations with a specific person just because you know how hurt youd be with their guaranteed reaction?

yeah, that thought right there

[bonestosoul]

thats what careless words do. they make people love you a little less

[bonestosoul]

i am half agony, half hope

[bonestosoul]

the actions you sow now are the feelings you reap at your neediest

[bonestosoul]

it was better to be unknown and wishful than to meet and break over wishes

[bonestosoul]

i think i left a long time ago. stopped looking around the corners, stopped holding my phone close, stopped smiling at pictures and stopped holding out a candle for all the time meant to be put in.

its fading, the light of adoration is fading & this carelessness is the culprit of your denied wish.

[bonestosoul]

partnered yet partnerless. and that is the lesson of life. some learn early & some learn late. some still hope but i dont

[bonestosoul]

joy, life, love, pain and everything in between

to each his own

[bonestosoul]

i fell in love with a song today.

i didn’t send it to you.

we don’t do those things anymore.

[bonestosoul]

why do i not ask you to say something nice anymore? is this for me to think something about or for you to do something about?

[bonestosoul]

i don’t know who you are, i don’t know where you’ve been. when my bell never rings, my heart sees a stranger

[lemondropsandchimney]

Hope is a tricky thing. It helps you keep alive yet kills you slowly.

[bonestosoul]

time is the upend-er of every thing nice. like you and i. none from you and all of mine.

[bonestosoul]

how can a cocaine addict leave so easy?

[bonestosoul]

i swallow so many shards of disappointment now. i wonder how invisible can a bled out person be. how put together can a walking dead look.

[mysticaletherealliving]

I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel it’s soft, feathery turnings, it’s malignity.

- Sylvia Plath