I feel like I have this ever growing list of everything everyone wants from me and I can barely bring myself to get up each day. I'm not depressed, I'm just exhausted. I'm just so tired. I'm just so tired.
-I'm so tired I can't sleep.
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I feel like I have this ever growing list of everything everyone wants from me and I can barely bring myself to get up each day. I'm not depressed, I'm just exhausted. I'm just so tired. I'm just so tired.
-I'm so tired I can't sleep.
That's just it; it was never me. You were all I ever wanted but unfortunately the same wasn't to say for you.
You can wish all you want but something's just aren't meant to be.
My nightmares consist of your head on my pillow, whispering sweet nothings and my head in the curve of your neck.
It almost happened. I almost fell back into your web of lies. Blinded by the pursuit of something better I forgot there isn't.
One of the most disappointing Things about being a care giver Is the lack of reciprocation. Always willing to bend over Backwards for the people who Can't remember your favorite Poet, let alone color or food. I will love the tiniest, most Insignificant details of those I encounter. Strive to make Sure you know how truly Beautiful they all are. Because in this world full Of assholes; someone has to Remember what it's like to Be a human being.
My life is a gift I want to return. Never enough to fool-proof my attempts But enough to keep me trying. I’ve struggled with this for as Long as I can remember and I’m Confident that the only thing I Know how to be — is broken.
But there’s beauty in the broken, right? (via heartfeltlies-poetry)
He is a battle you’ve been Preparing to lose your entire life. He is finally coming home After an exhausting day at work. He is the one person you Cannot, nor want to, force away. And when your thoughts Wander when you cannot sleep? Well he is them as well. Society tells us this is a Soul mate, the “one”, your forever. What they don’t tell you Is sometimes he doesn’t stay. What they should tell you Is that if he leaves you will be ok.
But what I really mean to say is I miss you, please come home. (via heartfeltlies-poetry)
Remember; this isn't A fairytale and you're Your own fucking hero.
Maybe we don’t forget Those we truly love; Maybe we just forget How much we need Them in our lives. You pick up the pieces And you find a way To survive.
I think back to times When the raw pain Of heartache was Almost too much To bear alone. Constantly seeking Shelter in the arms Of someone unknown.
I find comfort in knowing That one day the pain will Subside and I won’t miss You as painfully as now. Comfort, but fear as well For I’d like to believe these Feelings will never fade No matter how painful.
Love is hell.
The final bomb has dropped and the war is done. My friends approach me with white flags. There's a peace offering of ice cream in the freezer. My bed is made up and the blinds drawn tight. The soldiers rally around to protect my broken heart. My mother is waiting for me to lock myself away again. For the days when I can't stop crying to function. When I only leave my room for water and air. My friends are waiting for the phone calls. Waiting to talk me out of my depressing thoughts. Sturdying themselves to support my dead weight. All is still and all is silent. Every muscle in my body tenses. I'm waiting for the shock to hit. But it doesn't. I've felt this pain for so long that I'm immune to the after effects. I don't even register the slightest Bit of emotional change. I've spent so many days crying my soul away. Carving my demons into the back of my brain. Hiding amongst a fortress of blankets and pillows. And for what? I have a life that demands to be lived. Priorities I need to attend to. People to be strong for. This is not the end; I am my own hero. I don't need you to Save me anymore.
The war is over, now comes the healing.
My safe place is found in The crook where your neck Meets your breast bone. Listening to the sound Of your heart beating and Feeling your soft breaths. Your strong arms wrapped Around me, comforting me, That no matter what happens That you will be there for me.
It used to kill you when He wouldn't text back. Now you hardly notice. So accustomed to the Silence you fail to feel The distance growing. Or maybe you've Stopped holding on so Tightly to things that Hold you so far back.
"I could have fucked her so hard" Don’t let it bother you. The mental images flood your brain. He’s beaten, calloused hands on Her young and scar-free body. Grasping at her hair in passion, Knowing perfectly well what lies Beneath that blond hair is pure, Yet to be destroyed by depression. She calls his name out and it Doesn’t sound like it hurts. She doesn’t pour every ounce Of love into every single letter As she screams his calling. Her vagina is tighter because She hasn’t met the boys who Told her lies to get inside her. Her face stressed in a series Of pure pleasure as you pound Deeper and deeper while she Remains unafraid because no One taught her to be scared. Where fat shakes on me it does Not move an inch on her tight Young body, she doesn’t know To recognize each subtle movement Her body produces in passion. And you enjoy every second of It because it’s like a dream, fucking A body the way it should be — Perfect. Young. Undamaged. When you reach the point of Release you burry yourself within Her, unafraid that she might bare Your child because you know She’d do the 'right thing' "But I didn’t."
I want so bad to believe you.
Please do something wrong. I need something to justify The bitterness I feel for you.
You're too perfect. And I can't accept it.
"I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now, you’re fucking perfect." Delivered. Read August 12, 2014 at 12:31am. "Sorry my phone was dead." Received August 15, 2014 at 7:02pm