Things I'll Never Say

But will always write #hideyouinmypoetry

[hideyouinmypoetry]

Mr. Oz

I am worth more. I am worth more than your empty words. I mean more than your flashy flimsy fake confabulation. The neural pathways that you claimed connected our souls are nothing more than Independence Day sparklers that don’t last through one Star Spangled Banner. The cosmic connection that pulled us through time and space was nothing more than chance, circumstance, and charm. You got me so good. I was gone, hook, line, sinker. Until whatever force you gave way to, caused you to turn on your heel. I looked in your eyes and held your hands and I described in painful detail the ways I give myself to people that don’t care about me. I gave you the blueprints. I told you my secret. That I was worthless. And then one day, you agreed. One last outpost of hope that someone saw me, burned to the ground. Jaw dropping shock. Red cheek humiliation. Wet eyes and fidgeting fingers. My precarious spirit falters once again. But I’m worth more. I have to be.

[sylviaplathquotes]

“I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via sylviaplathquotes)

[sylviaplathquotes]

“The trouble about jumping was that if you didn’t pick the right number of storeys, you might still be alive when you hit bottom.”

— Sylvia Plath (via sylviaplathquotes)

[sylviaplathquotes]

“I like people too much or not at all.”

— Sylvia Plath (via sylviaplathquotes)

[sylviaplathquotes]

“The last six months have been a unique hell, but that’s finished and I am fine now.”

— Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Paul and Clarissa Roche wr. c. January 1963 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[bnmxfld]

[bnmxfld]

[menhe-rafflesia]

[menhe-rafflesia]

“What do you do from morning to night?”

“I endure myself.”

Emil Cioran, The Trouble with Being Born

[mercymiku]

Up at 5am:

How I love the dead world,

The silent, empty streets.

I love the lack of people

I’m usually forced to greet.

Isn’t it romantic,

That early morning chill,

And the way no one can see you

Gives quite the subtle thrill.

The sky is grey, unsightly,

But clear and fresh and free,

How I love the dead world-

Just the chill and the birds and me.

~Breathe it in.

[quotemadness]

“I think I’m in love with missing you more than I’m in love with you.”

— Sylvia Plath

[quotemadness]

“I’d say go to hell, but I never want to see you again.”

— Sylvia Plath

[heartofmuse]

Words are all I have

Words are all I have because I can only give you that

You are so far away from me,

Where my hands cannot reach,

Where my lips cannot touch,

All I have are my words

So I gift them to you,

Every morning when I rise,

Every evening , every night

I pour into them what my body wishes to tell you but can’t

I imbue them with all I am

So that when you read them

They will sing to you the song found in my heart,

For words I have come to treasure,

Because your words to me are all I have of you

e.v.e.

[thankunextmp3]

Ghostin - Ariana Grande (2019)

[neckkiss]

MILK AND HONEY pt.2

[insatiably-red]

[haleyincarnate]

Barbara Kingsolver, The Lacuna