[nixscriptum]

[in-her-inner-thoughts]

I spoke to God today,

or something close enough.

I didn't beg for miracles,

or ask for answers,

or proof that anyone was listening.

I just spoke

because I had nowhere else to put

all... this.

maybe he heard me.

maybe the ceiling did.

regardless,

neither answered.

either way,

for a moment,

I felt I wasn't alone

in my suffering

[nanasiris]

i dont like to be punished, but still run after the chance

like a child runs to their mother, cause they fell off the swing

i run into bad habits and meet more on my way out

my back's about to fail from carrying the heavy doubts

[thoughtkick]

“Never make fun of someone’s passion because that’s the thing that saves them from the world.”

— Unknown

[thoughtkick]

“You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy … because you understand them, and they do not understand you.”

— Daniel Saint

[wordrummager]

candles for counting for seeing the way to us for nights with no moon

[mirethos]

[mirethos]

filed under: evidence. (I)

[in-her-inner-thoughts]

comes and goes as she pleases,

me, never knowing the ease

of her moving away

and leaving me behind.

she asks if I'd like a cup of tea,

purposely leaving out

that she brewed it with

belladonna

instead of my regular chamomile.

though, this belladonna

never puts me out of my misery.

it settles down in my brain,

goes dormant in my veins,

and wakes up

at the worst possible times.

𝘈𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵

𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺.

[weltenwellen]

The Score Maggie Smith

[paper-wounds]

via

[in-her-inner-thoughts]

there is so much hurt

within my heart,

begging for a release

i cannot give it.

[in-her-inner-thoughts]

i die all over again

in my sleep each night.

all i dream of is you.

though,

the nightmare i awake to

each night is much worse.

(yes, night, not day,

i don't have the energy for that.)

instead,

the majority of my energy

goes to all the things i see you in,

which is everything.

the rest sits with

the betrayal

you've left me here to sit with

brewing inside my chest.

it reminds me of how i like my coffee,

tooth achingly sweet,

(plenty would consider it not coffee anymore)

and how i always drink too much

to the point i start

to panic and become anxious.

and still,

i leave the lights in my heart

on for you,

and the key

under the doormat to my soul.

yet,

you never come through that door,

and you never pick up that key.

and still,

i am always here,

waiting.

[perlmuttbluete]

And maybe that's the tragedy of people like me. We keep offering water to a world that left us thirsty. We keep building homes in our chest for people who never planned to stay. And somehow, after all of it, we still leave the porch light on.

-Notes from the bathroom floor.

[paper-wounds]

via

[paper-wounds]

Nicole W. Lee, from "Even the Dust"

[paper-wounds]

via