Cherry Blossoms on a Breeze

I just needed a place to let my voice trail off on a breeze, regardless if someone hears it or not.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

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This is a poetic venting blog. Most of it will be my own writing, and I'll credit anything else that isn't mine. Sometimes there will be poetry or prose and other times it'll just be the harsh words of the heart whispered out onto the breeze before I feel like I'm going to explode for not having a way to let go of those emotions.

I don't have a goal or a want or a purpose. I just want to get things off my chest.

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Organized Tags:

Cherry Soap Box - Just surface level talk.

Cherry Whispers - The words I put onto the wind. I don't care whether or not it goes anywhere, it's just there. On the wind. In the world. They're filled with so many emotions.

Cherry Thanks You - Any asks that are dumped into my ask box that have been answered. Because thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

They’ll always care about you more than not at all, but always less than you want them to.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

It’s been a long time since you’ve invaded my thoughts enough to fold under the weight of it all. I think that’s healing. I think that’s moving on. I think that’s progress, but I can’t help but be reminded that progress isn’t a straight line. Or a constant incline. Or even always moving forward.

Sometimes I can see it, you know? Sometimes I can see myself doubling back. Some young, desperate part of myself, when I was 19, trying to go back to the way it was. Trying to see if I just didn’t try hard enough. Because apparently everyone was in agreement about that. Everyone who mattered, I guess.

Did you feel it when I banged my hand against the glass of my phone like a one-way mirror against the unblock button? Did you hear me shouting at myself from across the continent as I tried to convince myself not to go back to things that killed me twice before already? I wonder if it even mattered if you did.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

A part of me hopes that I’ve left handprints

on everyone I’ve ever met.

Whether dipped in love or bathed in blood.

I hope they remember me for

the things I’ve done,

words I’ve spoken,

or teeth I’ve bared.

Whether they were smiles or snarls.

I hope they remember me.

[lonergirlmonologue]

"i fucking loved you, and you destroyed me like nobody else did."

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

It’s hard.

It’s so hard when I think about you.

It’s hard when I dream about you.

Because it’s all my hopes.

All my dreams.

All my wishes trying their best to come true.

Trying to tell me that there’s still a chance,

That you’d still love me even after I left you.

That someone would still love me

After they see just how

Horrible

I really am.

I don’t love you like that

Anymore,

But I still care.

Even after you broke my heart

All I could want for you

Is better than me.

Because you loved me

When I couldn’t love myself.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

You didn’t have to support me.

You didn’t even have to look at me.

You didn’t have to care at all.

The least you could have done

Was not crush my hope that one day

I might be able to receive love

From someone without issue.

The least you could have done

Was let someone else do the job

you couldn’t.

The least you could have done was not say anything at all.

The worst you’ve done

is make that love seem

so

small.

But what love have you given me

to feel so much larger.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

weirdly enough, i never wanted revenge. i never wanted to get back at you. i never wanted you to go through what i did. I just wanted you to understand the storm in my head that was catalyzed by your presence alone and what it did to me long term.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

Do you know what it feels like to be this romantic?

Do you know what it feels like to be just completely soaked with love but still only wring it out of your veins like a sponge to give to others to drink. This love I receive is hardly for me, it’s always only ever been for others - for those that I love. This love you’ve given me has always hardly been for me. It’s always only been for you. It’ll always come back to you. Maybe not in the ways you gave it to me, but one way or another, it gets back to you.

I don’t know how to keep it. I don’t know what to do with it if I can’t give it back.

It feels like acid rain sometimes. To touch the grooves left behind - the shapes that were seared into the heart, you can’t get rid of those easily.

But what about you?

Did the love I kept pouring back to you - did you keep any of it for yourself? Did it burn you the same way it burnt me? Did you put it to good use? Or was it all just a waste of time and energy because you couldn’t drink any of it without it tasting bitter.

So is that bitterness my fault or yours? Was it my love for you or was it your fucked up tastebuds.

Or did you pour all of my hard work, blood, sweat, and tears - rivers of them - into the ocean you live next to.

[thiabeagoodgirl]

i will forever be the hurting child, the angry teenager and the lonely adult.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

Don’t come back.

I will not

Welcome you with open arms

Like I did before.

I will not

Be your sunlight

Again.

Just for the blinds to be drawn.

Find another to warm

Your bed.

I am searing my name

Into the fabrics of time

And the lips

Of my lover.

Don’t come back.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

And how immature would I be if acknowledging my shortcomings caused me to feel less righteous in my anger and pain - and in turn refusing to? Where do I draw the line of “my fault” or “your fault”? Why bother thinking so hard about things that had already passed? Why bother when I have already taken note on what went wrong and what I have to do to fix it should another come after you?

Why does thinking about what happened still make me feel like I lost something? And why do I bother thinking of it at all? When it’s so very obvious to me, that looking behind me has only ever caused a haunting.

[solassitudes]

sometimes it’s better refrain from deep introspection and allow yourself to just be.

[solassitudes]

and by that I mean: I don’t have to sit with myself and overthink and analyze and rationalize every ounce of my being. I am not a case study I am a person. faults and all. like any other person. sometimes I have to look at my mistakes and avoid self flagellation. sigh and learn what I can and move on. remember that I am living, and this is part of the process. free myself of that inner critic. allow myself to be, and try again.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

I don’t have to be pretty, but for the love of god, I don’t want to feel ugly.

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

You just wanted someone to warm your bed for the winter, didn't you?

That's why you left in the spring.

[rozcdust]

growing up with an angry father is terrifying but growing up a daughter with an angry mother is gut wrenching because you get it, you understand that she’s been worn down by the world and being treated as less and she’s been carrying the rage and traumas of her mother and her mother before her and her mother before her and when you see her you recognise that same rage in you

but her rage is not pointed at the world, it’s pointed at you because you’re 14 and not used to the harshness of it yet but she will make sure you get there and you don’t know what to do but cry and she hates seeing your tears because they make her nauseous

growing up with an angry mother feels like being ripped apart because you know she loves you, she’s your worst enemy, she makes you feel safe, she terrifies you, she’s your best friend, she’s the reason you can’t let people get close, you love her, you never cried over a boy or a girl as much as you cried over her words, she made you, you’re her puppet, you’re desperate to leave, you’ll never escape her blood or her judging gaze and even when you leave you can hear her voice in your head and it will haunt you until you’re dead

you understand her rage but you see it in yourself and that scares you more than anything else

[cherryblossomsonabreeze]

To every person I've ever met,

Thank you for your presence in my life.

The pieces of yourself,

Whether it was your whole heart,

Or a brief smile,

I've kept them all with me.

If not as new pieces of myself,

Then as fairy lights that remind me

of the brightness of the world,

even in the dark.

Like fireflies.