[kosmogrl]

[pursepoetry]

Sometimes

Not all the time

But sometimes

I wonder if everything I do

Every step I take

Every breath I draw

Every experience I devour

Is only an attempt

At running away from you

An attempt

At drowning out the silence

That deafens me

An attempt

At scratching away the feeling

Of your hands as they tear through my soul

An attempt

At leaving behind a person

That took what they needed

And never looked back

To see if I was still there

Sometimes

Not all the time

But sometimes

I wonder

If enough distance might save

Whatever is left of me

After you

[pursepoetry]

somewhere, in the midst of our wreckage, we’re still slow dancing to our songs in the livingroom

[pursepoetry]

and I love you so much

it feels like running a spear through my own chest

and choosing to do so

gratefully.

[kosmogrl]

[pursepoetry]

And if I must love you forever, even from afar, i am grateful. Some people sleepwalk through life never feeling it at all.

[pursepoetry]

That’s not your life anymore, and there’s a reason for that.

[pursepoetry]

suddenly, to be known did not feel like a gift

to know I had been seen was not cause for relief

I was longing for a mask I’d fought to pack away

for the lights to shine once more on the stage of a performance I had closed the curtains on

suddenly, I realized

once they see you, in all of your vulnerability

that is all they will ever see.

[pursepoetry]

[pursepoetry]

to love you, is to endure you.

[achillesinhighheels]

[pursepoetry]

no decision might just cost more than risking the wrong decision

[minimalistquotes]

Be the person who still tries. After failure, after frustration, after disappointment, after exhaustion, after heartache, be the person who musters up the courage to believe that a new attempt can manifest a new outcome. Be the person who still tries.

[pursepoetry]

There is no written rule that acceptance must be calm or healing must be pretty.

My acceptance is loud and follows fire fights, shattered plates and mascara stained cheeks, disappearances for days on end in search of something i cannot name, it is the hoarseness in my cries after hours spent screaming and begging for a way to understand, and music played so loudly it could be deafening just to see if it can distract from the loudness of my wailing heart.

My healing looks like the blood that decorates the floor after removing daggers that over time have come to call my chest home. The wallpaper ripped off and scattered in an attempt to see something different painting these four walls. Notebooks I trusted to hold the poison I wish I could spill stripped bare and strewn from door to door like a mixed up map through the labyrinth of my mind.

My acceptance is explosive and angry, the storm itself, not the calm after.

And my healing is ruinous. It claims the life of who I am, laboring and giving birth to whoever I will be after.

[pursepoetry]

‘You cannot drive towards something without driving away from something else’

- something someone said that made me cry

[vexheart]

[angelicdewdrop]