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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Janaina Medeiros
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@pleaseburnthisafteryoureadit
i understood the sting of betrayal
before i even knew there was a word for it
by the time i was 10 i held onto a grudge like it was a hand
ready to engage in a war
that would be long over
before i even had the chance to participate
instead the anger became an ocean that never stops crashing
there has been a hole inside of me since you left
i donât know how to not feel empty
i dont know how to stop looking for you
we have been separated by too much time & too much hurt. my head is no longer full of the conversations that i wont be starting. ive come to the decision that you can have my forgiveness but you can never have me.
it took me 19 years to learn that not every person deserves access to you, protect your peace.
suddenly its 4 oâclock in the morning and i realize that i never thought your memory would last this long. im trying my best not to find this poetic because i know that i cannot keep writing about all of the things iâve left behind. but there is an emptiness here that i know was not here before & im starting to come to the realization that maybe i still want you here.
it is not my responsibility to forgive you for what you couldnt be.
it feels completely surreal writing this now. when i first started writing, and eventually created this account to share with you all, i was in an incredibly dark place. i never thought that things were going to get better. i let so many things pile up over the years, and all it took was one good heartache to throw me into a downward spiral. i was 15 when i started this page, when i started writing. i was 15 & i had truly believed that i had lived, that i had seen everything that life had to offer & decided that i was dealt a shitty hand & i was ready to throw my cards down. i was 15 & i thought the world had nothing left to offer me. i was angry, i was done.
i was wrong.
when i was 15, i knew exactly what loved looked like, it was messy and it smelled like sweet leather and cigarettes and most days it hurt. love reminded me every single day that i wasnât good enough. love came when it was convenient or when it needed something. you can read about what love did to me all over this page.
love went away for quite a while, just long enough for me to forget.
when i was 17 love found me again. & it looked much different this time. it didnt have to hurt, it wasnt messy. love reminded me every day that i was more than enough, that i was everything it needed and then some.
im 19 now. ive met a man that has truly and completely changed me, and therefore my life forever. we dont always know what love looks like, but weâre figuring it out together & that is what matters most. im 19 now, and ive learned that, yes, it gets difficult sometimes. but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. sometimes it takes a while to find, but it is so worth it when you do.
so this is my message to anyone who takes anything away from what you read here: dont give up. love will find you again. when people show you who they are, believe them. it may look completely different from what you expect, what youâre used to. but it will find you, and show you that there is so much more for you in this life. so much to look forward to, to be happy about, so much more to feel than grief and bitterness and remorse. stay strong â¤ď¸
i really want to start writing again
love me because you want to, not because you think i need you to
baby, baby, god only knows
What is the first letter of the name of your crush
B lmaooo
i think about you much more than i probably should
here i feel fragile, on the floor beside my bed trying to avoid the emptiness that awaits me between my sheets. my god, why am i so weak? another question without an answer because god is dead if he ever existed to begin with either way, i am jealous. the past begins creeping back with a sinister spirit i have always been desired, but i have never been loved. i guess the light exposed the fact that acceptance became a dead end. i know i wasnât quite the girl of your dreams but i came bearing the beat of my heart and the best of intentions. and you had me convinced that maybe just maybe that would be enough.
things to do after a breakup
cry.
unleash the hurricanes whirring in your chest
monsoons of emotions
causing the waves to crash against your rib cage
breaking you down from the inside out.
break everything.
the mix tape,
the stuffed dog he won for you at a street fair,
burn the sweatshirts,
burn every single poem you have ever written about him,
soak the pictures in bleach
destroy every fucking memory,
maybe it will hurt less if everything else is broken too
think.
sit and think about the first night,
when he took you by surprise with the kiss he stole,
he has always been a thief,
but still, you gave him a key.
sit and think about the last night,
when you were sitting in his car and your love was a ghost
lingering in the back seat,
where he told you he loved for the first time as he stripped you down.
he took away more than you realized.
cry some more.
cry in the shower,
wishing you could scrub yourself clean
of every lie, every promise, every i love you
cry in the car,
listening to that same fucking playlist
the one that leaves you hyperventilating
the one that leaves you overflowing with emptiness.
you can try to forget,
but you know that you wonât.
k.m.k
a vast ocean i cannot understand where tempest tides mimic your indecisiveness i am still trying to determine whether you are the lighthouse or the storm. regardless i am willing to drown for you if you let me but rather i find myself choking on your true colors. i fell in love with watery dreams but they slipped through my fingers and shattered on the ground like glass a mosaic of fabricated fantasies, things that will never be. is there truly such a thing as a beautiful tragedy? lessons to be learned taste a lot like salt water. i think i am finally beginning to understand what love is not supposed to be. "tempest tides" k.m.k
i say reconciliation. and do not first think about forgiveness. rather, imagine an empty church your sins ricochet around the room as you confess your shortcomings to a holy something i say reconciliation. and do not first think of renewal, because a man with a cross around his neck the life withdrawing itself from his body with every single breath he takes reminds you that we are all Godâs children. and we are all sinners. i say reconciliation, and do not first imagine a breath of fresh air, because the air is so thick and dense with incense that you swear you are drowning. and yet he tells you that it is the weight in your heart, your soul is blackened like ash, and you are heavy with sins, from which only God can free you. i say reconciliation, think of light. dozens upon dozens of flickering candles, they are so fragile one soft breeze would be enough to rip them back into darkness. this is your faith. i say reconciliation, do not first think about forgiveness. the man with the cross around his neck hacks up a bit more of his life as he tells you that God will forgive you if you first learn to repent for being human. k.m.k "reconciliation"
you said that you heard i was sleeping with your best friend, i told you it wasnât true. you told me that she meant nothing, that it was a misunderstanding. i believed you. i told you i still loved you, leaving out the part where the meaning of love changes after every bottle. you told me we could work this out, but iâve got doubts you were staying at your parentsâ house. i told you i would always remember this, but i hope he fucks me until i forget. you told me you wanted to stay, but you were already on the other side of the door. i told you you could trust me, but i have never loved a man i did not eventually betray. you told me you dreamt of forever with me, but forever always ended once you were sober. i told you i was just trying to find myself, but i kept finding myself in strangersâ beds. you told me we were in love, but i donât think we know each other anymore. we were awful liars, and great believers. âlying loversâ k.m.k
childhood taught me that scraped knees will heal, and so will many other things with enough time, but not everything. i learned that it doesnât matter how many times you fall, and you will fall many, many times but all that counts is how many times you stand back up. childhood taught me that just like losing teeth, sometimes things fall apart, so that better things can fall into place. childhood taught me that the monsters in the closet are not the worst kind of people-- i mean monsters-- if thereâs a difference in the first place. childhood taught me that no, crying doesnât fix anything, but sometimes we have to do it anyway. childhood taught me that sometimes puzzle pieces are not actually missing, weâve just found the wrong ones. childhood taught me that promises may as well be written in sidewalk chalk, childhood taught me that fairytale dreams are just a bunch of bullshit, there are no castles, there are no three wishes, and there are no fairy godmothers. i learned that everything comes at a price, and sometimes you will have nothing left to give, but you will give anyway. "what childhood taught me" k.m.k