The Moon Girl

thoughts and writings of a girl lost in space and everything in between.

[poetriesandproses]

Why does it feel like this when you are no longer mine to hurt about?

The ending was just the beginning

[poetriesandproses]

Please don’t call yourself a “feminist” if you only support the things that are beneficial to you but SHAME other women for doing what they want with their body AND money.

[poetriesandproses]

i remember one afternoon in my bedroom, our lips were  reaching out to each other like unheard prayers trying to find its way to a god wishing that this won't end.

But it remained unanswered, just like all other prayers

[wordsnquotes]

I think hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go.

Neil Gaiman, The Sandman. (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

Yes, I lied. I’m not getting better since that day. And to be honest, I’m not happy for you.

baekebyan (via wnq-writers)

[poetriesandproses]

I hope for the day where my feet will just settle Where they’ll finally stay firmly on ground And not always lifting, In motion, and I won’t have to keep running from things that scare me or make me feel like goddamn I will fuck this up so good I need to save them. It’s like my feet are scouts and they’re always ready. But my heart won’t go like Rose and it’s the Titanic And I am the iceberg. I will sink people down. I have no control over the two beings inside me My feet and heart are bestfriends in the most antagonistic way so I am running and staying all in one go. I wish my words are like chains and I wish I could keep people with it but I know I shouldn’t put locks to doors opened wide for me I have no keys to my poetry only windows wide enough so that I could look into them and see how I live from the inside. And it is so dark. I want to turn the lights on again but I am continuously running from places I once called home. This is not so easy for me too. And I am sorry. I am sorry that the only way I know how to save people is to let them go. You have no idea how hard it is to stay when you see people hurting for you and because of you, grant salvation to other people when they only want to save from you from yourself but they can’t and they won’t. Because I am trying to save myself too and I am trying to go back to places I called home only to find out broken hinges on doors. And I wish my hands were screw drivers so that I could fix what I wrecked but all they ever were, And all they will ever be Are open hands You couldn’t hold on too.

My salvation is my own goodbyes

[poetriesandproses]

A Thousand Worlds

I am not going to ask you to come back. I know you’re not going to.

I know I could keep lying to myself that you still love me. That one day, you’ll realize what you lost and you’ll run back to me. But I know the truth. We left each other because we’re not right for each other. It’s as simple as that. Believe me, I am slowly accepting that. I am trying to. But I want you to know that I still think about you. That there are still days where I wonder how you are, what you’ve been doing lately and most importantly, are you happy? I want to know. I would like to know. We used to talk a lot but now we’re nothing but deleted names in each other’s phonebooks. Isn’t that sad? We used to mean the world to one another but now our names once mentioned, create a hollow feeling at the pit of our stomachs.

This is not what I wanted, okay? There is nothing I would’ve wanted more in this world than the thought that one day that I am going to wake up by your side. But we can’t always have what we want. Most especially when it’s not me you really want. And it’s okay. It’s okay that you lied to me. It’s okay that you made me believe that you’re staying and that we’ll always have each other. Somehow, deep down, I knew this day would come. I guess I just wanted to make myself believe that we could make things last when we love each other. I’ve always believed that the best way to love you is to stay with you no matter what. But now I know that the best way is to stay away from you.

I’ve learned that sometimes, the best way of loving someone is leaving them alone.

But understand that just because I’m the one who said goodbye doesn’t mean I already left. Most days, I still find myself here—left in the ruins of our love. Strolling and revisiting places where some of our best memories happened. But don’t get me wrong. I am not waiting. I know you’re not coming back. I know better than to try and find you in places where I lost you. But understand that I am here recreating. Picking up the rubbles like jigsaw puzzles, I am trying to make everything whole again because I want to see the picture. I want to know where it all fell apart and what we could’ve done to make it right. I am trying to rebuild this place with only me as the inhabitant and you as a distant memory. I am creating scenes where we could’ve stayed and lived this way forever. This is my coping mechanism ever since the day I lost you.

I am creating a thousand different worlds where we have each other and stayed together because I live in one where we fell apart.

I’d rather live in make believe worlds than admit I miss you so bad.

[poetriesandproses]

Hey. Stop lying already. We both know who you are.

It sucks that you’re not coming out. Talk to me as yourself. Why are you so afraid? It’s not as if I’m still mad at you. Just stop lying.

[poetriesandproses]

It was not because you did not choose me. I did not get hurt because of that. Just the fact that you had to choose between me or her, meant I already lost. I was not supposed to be a choice, in the first place. I don’t know what I was meant to be in your life but surely, I did not deserve to be merely one of your choices. So I accepted that loss. I accepted that falling in love with you was ultimately, a defeat, either way. But I loved you enough to choose that. I loved you enough to choose my own downfall. I chose you. I chose to stay with you. I chose to love you. And none of that is your fault. That was my own doing. And I refuse to feel victimized by my own decisions. I knew you were destruction the moment I got to know you and I still decided that you are worth my ruin because I believed that you are worth sacrificing everything for—including my emotional and mental stability. I know that’s a crazy thing to do but understand that I was madly in love with you. And humans tend to lose their natural instinct of self-preservation when they’re in love, if you think about it. I got hurt because you know me. You, of all people, know who I really am. When I chose you, I have lowered all of my walls that I kept high above myself. You saw me. More naked than being naked itself. I showed you I was weak. I showed you I was vulnerable. You knew the bruises and scars I hide in my body. You knew the cracks in my soul that I am continuously pouring cement filling with, just to appear whole on the outside. You knew that I was not just fragile or breakable, but I am broken. But I let you in. I let you in. I knew you were destruction but I let you in because I thought, maybe, when you know just how damaged I am, you’ll refuse to be yourself. You’ll refuse to fire your weapons because my whole life is a white flag. I surrendered my heart to you because I thought you'll keep it in a sanctuary called your love. But you didn’t. You planted bombs inside me and disguised them as flowers. You circled me with ammunitions and made me feel that they were fireworks. You adorned me with barbed wires and told me they were embraces. So when you told me you loved me, I really did not see what was coming.

[poetriesandproses]

Even stars fall, my love.

So don’t blame me for falling for you

[poetriesandproses]

Everyday, the resolve to die just gets stronger and stronger.

And I am afraid of what I can do. I am afraid of myself. Help me.

[poetriesandproses]

Talk to me.  I want to know you. Show me your demons. And I'll show you mine.  Let's know each other in darkness before we see the light.

They told me demons dance with each other. So shall we?

[poetriesandproses]

I am so scared of myself right now. It's as if I am not the person I thought I was.

[poetriesandproses]

My choices are as valid as yours. So if my choices are breaking your heart, imagine what I felt with yours.

I chose you and you chose somebody else. You promised you won’t break my heart. Baby, look at what you’ve done to me. 

[poetriesandproses]

I wish I could tell you that I still want to know why. I wish I could go up to you and ask you why. But the truth is, I don't want to know anything anymore. I died waiting for your answers. But now, I have accepted it already that some things are better left unsaid and some wounds are better left untouched.

I have said it too many times before and I will say it again, “Goodbye.”

[poetriesandproses]

You’re going to give me the answers that I want just when I no longer want them.

Fuck you.

Shove those unsaid words up your ass.

I died waiting for them and now, I don’t give a damn shit about you.

[poetriesandproses]

This is how it begins. You’ve had so many to eat Before you know it, Fingers twitch, And your mind tells you Do it. Do it. Do it. You have learned it at a very young age, The way mothers tell daughters to stop themselves in buffets because boys don't like fat girls, The way fathers tell daughters “Your mother used to have a great body.” The way daughters tell daughters that size is inversely proportional to one's worth. You are not good enough if you eat a lot. You are not good enough if you are fat. Being fat means being ugly. and being ugly is wrong, Being ugly is a crime, Being ugly is the worst thing a woman could be. Politely, you excuse yourself from breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Restrooms are confession rooms. Prayers are said silently, with two fingers down your throat. You’ve never really learned how to masturbate And this is probably the only way you’ll know how to finger yourself. There is pleasure in knowing that you are punishing yourself from what you couldn't be. Restrooms are torture chambers scented with deliverance. You just want to be absolved from your sins. You just want to be freed. You just want to be saved. And you want to stop, but you can’t. It doesn’t feel good. It just feels right. You are praying for salvation from hell. But it’s all in your head. How do you save yourself from both?

The Only Way I Know How To Finger Myself is to Stick Fingers Down My Throat