You’re In My Veins

[rhythmofherwrist]

But, you see, our stars won’t ever align. They’re from two entirely different galaxies. I watch yours burn with wide eyed curiosity and hold my breath when our separate universes nearly collide - they always miss, but nearly - and in the chaos and the clarity I can’t help but to wonder if you ever notice mine, too.

[rhythmofherwrist]

I was the moth and you, the flame. There is no way we make it through this without burning each other down.

[hanwritingagain]

“I realized heartbreak wasn’t poetic when my sister was driving her car 90mph, her hands clenching the steering wheel and her mumbling “I can’t believe I was so stupid.” because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn her broken heart into anything more than a mosaic. because when this boy had to talk in front of the class, his eyes watered when he mentioned her name and he shrugged his shoulders and said “sometimes things just don’t work out.” and he still loved her. because when it happened to me I pictured me going 90mph on the highway, and mumbling about how I still loved him but instead I threw something at the wall and I wrote about it. I wrote about how much it hurt and tried to make my ribs cracking with all the weight of my heavy heart sound poetic but it’s not. nothing is beautiful or poetic about the way your heart feels when someone you loved leaves, or doesn’t stay, or says “I’m sorry, it just has to be this way.” and there’s nothing poetic about driving so fast you’re convinced you’re gonna crash into the bridge, but you don’t. and it’s accidentally taking a breath under water even though you know it’ll get in your lungs but you just couldn’t come up for air and it’s not beautiful, it just makes your lungs fucking burn. heartbreak is going to open your mouth and nothing comes out but a few broken pieces of your heart and you swallow it back down in hopes of no one noticing your heart coming up from the ocean waves forming inside your stomach and with just one more look from him, you know you’ll turn into a hurricane and it’s dangerous. it’s not beautiful. it turns people into natural disasters that destruct anything in their paths. it makes hearts so broken you can barely see the flame that sparked it up in the first place, because the ocean inside of them washed it away, and you can’t love him anymore when he’s a flame and you’re the ocean.”

— I know heartbreak isn’t poetic but writing sure does take away some of the pain from it. // ig writingmyself

[rhythmofherwrist]

“Maybe we’ll meet again when we’re better for each other.” And suddenly three seconds pass but it has really been three years and I’m stepping off of a train and into your arms. There is so much negativity associated with “second chances” and going back to someone who has hurt you. Pain equates to love and without the bad there wouldn’t be a comparison for the good. If my heart hadn’t broken into thirty five fucking pieces it would’ve meant that you weren’t important to me. Everyone deserves a chance to grow from their mistakes. We both needed to experience the dark before we could recognize the light and flourish in it. We relearned one another - adjusted the way we held hands because it didn’t quite fit perfectly at first. We were molded to the shape of other people yet in a matter of seconds we were formed back into one another, one whole - like discovering a missing puzzle piece. We were the right people at the wrong time. We had so much exploring to do, so much growing up, so much to learn. Now you tangle yourself up in my legs and I fall asleep on your chest just the way that I always have and I think that we have the opportunity to finally do it right this time.

What if the one that got away came back? // S.

[rhythmofherwrist]

I am okay. I am fucking okay. How many times do I need to say it before I start to fucking believe it?

It’s okay not to be okay, but everyone believes it anyway // S.

[3amsouls]

“sometimes people pretend you’re a bad person so they don’t feel guilty about the things they did to you”

[rhythmofherwrist]

From the very first time you told me she had green eyes, I wished that I did, too.

- But I will never be her // S.

[rhythmofherwrist]

Sunflower

I am deep rooted in the chaos, now. The soil we nourished and grew in together was poisoned from the start -

toxic, like your lips

addictive, like your skin

hostile, like your words

empty, like your eyes

- I did not ask to grow here, but you did. You planted us here, anchored me to a foundation that has little to no chance of survival

But I am not a weed

I am not a wilted

I am not damaged

You used to call me your daisy.

Oh, how I loved to be your daisy.

You told me my hair smelt like roses.

You told me my skin felt soft like petals and smelt like peonies.

You told me my heart was budding and when you touched me my body would bloom for you

And then you left.

But, you see, you were wrong -

I am a sunflower.

In the darkest of times, I’ll always find the light.

My roots may be unloved but I will still grow

I am still growing

I am still me

But better.

Taller.

More beautiful.

And I will still find the light.