death caressed me on so many occasions. he cradled me like i was his own and each time all i could think was that his touch was warmer than my father ever was
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@jdyyshit
death caressed me on so many occasions. he cradled me like i was his own and each time all i could think was that his touch was warmer than my father ever was
when your first crush was a girl but your first partner was a boy
“i just like my alone time” i say as if loneliness hasn’t been all i’ve known since childhood
do you ever feel whole again?
were you ever even whole to begin with?
when does the pit within you begin to form?
why can’t you ever fill it?
no matter what you do
can you ever fill it?
will you ever be whole again?
a man stood in his small, cramped studio apartment right at the very edge of brooklyn
it’s quiet is all his mind musters
the roar of traffic, rumble of engines and the odd yell of a pedestrian or driver is all still very much prevalent. the laughs of teenagers rushing along the sidewalks with their friends, the car alarms blaring.
he tunes it out and focuses his attention back onto folding his shirt. this one old and the colour faded, the threads hanging. he’d outgrown it. he stares down, before shoving it into the duffel.
the creak of the floorboard turns his head. his girlfriend stands there, her eyes puffy and lip bloodied from her insistent chewing. she wears his university sweatshirt, having borrowed (stolen) it long ago. he lets her have it.
because when the bank accounts drained and the cupboards are bare, what does he have left to give?
his love?
except he’s already given all he can. he loves her like she’s his last breath of oxygen before death. the first breath of air after drowning. the virus and the cure. the poison and the antidote.
his brother would forever be more poetic she is my doing and my undoing. his beginning and his end.
she was everything.
so when she cries it cracks his heart.
she stands in the doorway, her arms wrapping around her chest, looking at him through misty lenses.
they’ve had this conversation before.
the fears, the tears. everything.
they have no other option, there’s nothing.
“we have to go, baby.”
her breath hitched “i know.”
“i’m sorry.”
“you’re not acting like it.”
he sighs, putting his shirts down. he grasps her wrist and pulls her gently onto the mattress on the floor. she curls slightly, her scraped knees drawn into her chest.
“remember our promise?” he murmured.
she hums, burrowing into his chest, tucking her head under his chin.
they fit like puzzle pieces.
“a big house with a big yard and surrounded with field.”
she nods.
“a garden with your favourite flowers. chickens, so we don’t buy eggs. maybe a cow or two. a wrap around porch to sit and watch the sunset.”
“a big fireplace that we drink hot chocolate by in the winter.” she says.
“with marshmallows?”
“with marshmallows.”
“a library” he continues “with all the books you can read.”
“a letterbox with our names on it.”
she leans into him and he breathes her in. lavender.
even if he was blind he could probably recognise her by that smell alone.
he’d feel for the soft skin of her cheek, the wispy curls of her hair, the rasp in her voice when she woke up.
“you forgot something.” her voice is low, almost drowned over by the noises of the city.
“what?”
“the pattering of little feet.” she adds
“huh?” his eyebrows knit together “like a dog?
“mhm. something like that.” she replies, and he feels something in her voice that’s like she’s revealing something hidden. a treasury of secrets almost. without another thought, she takes his arm and pulls it around her stomach.
oh.
something flutters in his chest. something unusual.
dangerous.
hope.
he blinks, twice. then looks at her, her angelic features even more gorgeous in the light of dusk. he lifts her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckle.
“one day” his voice cracks “i’m going to get you that house. those flowers. those books. i’m going to take care of you and we’ll never have to worry about food or money.”
i swear.
he leaves that unsaid, but he’s never meant anything more.
the sun’s lowering now and they turn to watch it.
all he can picture is her brown doe eyes and his chubby bright cheeks. he pictures tying shoe laces and sports practice and tiny shoes by the door of house he’s going to build her.
they watch the sun shift over it’s horizon. setting over the city, once the city of their dreams.
now all they have is their dusty apartment, their luggage, a little secret in their hearts and two plane tickets with their names on it.
and for today, that’s enough.
are vulnerability and peace on a buy one get one free offer?
or do i buy each of them separately?
do i need peace in order to be vulnerable?
or do i need to be vulnerable in order to have peace?
do i have to restock them when they finish? do i even need to restock them?
do i just let the cabinet, where i once stashed them away, collect dust?
does peace come with vulnerability?
does vulnerability come with peace?
i think sometimes we forget
that we can never truly save someone
we can only love them.
we can love them with every fibre of our beings
and still not save them
we forget that love cannot save
it can only protect
love can shelter from the storm
until even it gets knocked down
but that’s not to say that you shouldn’t love
quite the opposite really
love can’t save
but to love is to rest
so even if you can’t save them
love them regardless
because it might save you
do you ever laugh with your friends and think oh this is the point. this is the point of everything
you say you love flowers
yet every chance you get, you pick them from their roots
you never gave them a chance to blossom
never realised the beauty of their growth
never bothering to give them the opportunity to become even more beautiful, than when you picked them
that’s why i’m afraid that when you say that you love me
i’m afraid you’ll never give me a chance to blossom
that i’ll never get to grow
as long as you’re there to pick me from my roots
some people fall in love with other’s flowers but not their roots
so they don’t know what to do when autumn comes round and their roots start to show
Touch starved sluts reblog this
say hi to quinton and weewoo guys
i’d like to remember the memory of you.
but not you.
the elements inside of you, nitrogen, carbon, oxygen and all other elements they’re all part of the solar system. stars are made up of it, entire galaxies, the fucking universe is made up of it all. and so are you. you are essentially made up of stardust.