S.W.

Not everything is peachy fucking keen

[satin-and-cigarettes]

Trigger Warning: SA

There is a scar on my left hip

It’s the grave stone for the girl I used to be

And a memorial for the girl I would’ve been

Had his hands never touched my body

A reminder that it’s not just boys who you don’t know

There is a scar on my left hip

Even though I grew up watching Olivia Benson on SVU

Knowing that if “ice sinks, don’t drink”

To smile, but not too much

or you’ll appear easy

There is a scar on my left hip

That will echo the sound of glass hitting the bathroom floor

Of his hands over my mouth

And my shirt being torn

There is a scar on my left hip

That tells me I asked for it

That whispers it was my fault

That I shouldn’t have led him on

Or made him angry by saying no

There is a scar on my left hip

Marking the last words of the girl who believed she had a choice

Who thought he was her friend

There is a scar on my left hip

That no longer hurts

But will always kill me

[satin-and-cigarettes]

My house is burning

And I desperately searched for an ocean to wipe me clean

Wash the ash off my skin

The smoke from my lungs

To lick my wounds

And tell me they’d never let me burn again

But that’s not what I secretly craved

What I desired wasn’t to heal

I desired to feel the burn for the very first time

To hear the first match ignite

To feel it kiss my skin

To wince as the blisters broke out across my perfect flesh

To embrace the warmth as it smothered my soul

To remember the feeling of the choice of whether to run from the burning house

Or to go down with it

I’ve forgotten what it felt like to burn a house down

But I’ll never forget the feeling of you lighting the match

[satin-and-cigarettes]

My heels clack against the hard floor

Color floods the walls

Deep

Dark

Rich

Alluring

People cluster in groups

Staring

Whispering

Wondering

My steps sound like trumpets in a quiet room

And I wonder to myself

Are art galleries set up for the art themselves

Or for the people who view them?

And who really is the artist in question?

[satin-and-cigarettes]

I always craved to be loved by you

To be the one you miss when I am not at your side

To be the one who makes you fall

For you to be reminded of me by little things you pass by on the street

For you to memorize my smile

Or the way I say your name

I want you to be the one with me watching this sunset

But you can’t

You can’t be the one who holds my hand on this walk

Because, darling, I plan on jumping off this cliff

Maybe then you’ll miss me

Tell everyone at my funeral that you loved me

You’ll remember my smile as you look at my lifeless body

And maybe

You’ll remember my scream

For I surely fell for you, my dear.

[satin-and-cigarettes]

I want to meet you in a book store

I want to see your face fluttering

through the shelves

I want the smell of old books

I want the sunshine filtering

through the windows

I want a perfect glow with

dusty air

And I want you to stop and see

me

I want your smile waiting for me

I want to know

It’s you

[amodernlovermadeofouterspace-de]

“how many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?”

— 𝘝𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘢 𝘞𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘧

[satin-and-cigarettes]

Being afraid to love someone was never my problem

Being afraid to be loved by someone was

And the thought of being loved by someone who isn’t you….

Will be the death of me

[satin-and-cigarettes]

My senses filled with blue

A blue so dull it could be mistaken as grey

But grey doesn’t fit in this story

Not like blue

You were surely blue my dear

And blue is what you left me with

After you had gone

Everything was blue

I used to think I was pink

But surely pink wouldn’t be able to drown in blue the way I did

I began to think I was stained blue from you forever

A blue so thick

It could be confused as comforting

Even as you slowly drown in the depths

Blue always has a funny way of meaning so many different things

And so I sat

Gasping for air

In a blue wake you left me in

Until I looked down and realized

I was not blue

I was lilac

Darling, you surely stained me

But I did not become you

[sunsetquotes]

“Because once you hear something, you can never return to the time before you heard it.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer

[remanence-of-love]

[sunsetquotes]

“You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments that you cannot even imagine yet.”

— John Green

[sunsetquotes]

“Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready.”

— Nayyirah Waheed

[teenangstverse]

“We were talking about poetry, one winter afternoon, the sky the same hue as your eyes, but with the darkness of mine. You told me, “All poetry is about sex, God, or death.” I teased you, “How could you forget about love?” You’ve entranced and transfixed me, my love. You’re all my poetry ever talks about. So let me attempt to learn from the masters, I’ll try my hand at the other topics that consumed them. But how can I write about sex and not write about you? In my head there is a map of your body and a winding path that my lips and hands long to follow. Your body is a fire and I’m desperate to burn. But how can I write about God and not write about you? I touch your hand like I’m turning the pages of a holy book, but I love you with the fierceness of a sinner turned devout, I love you like you’re my last chance at paradise. I love you because we know the ugliest parts of each other, but we still choose forgiveness every single day. Your love is the bookmark I forgot about from the chapter in my childhood when I believed without reservations. You are the miracle who taught the atheist to have faith. But how can I write about death and not write about you? If death had come for me before my lips had brushed yours, I would have surely walked the earth as a ghost, unable to move on because if I have a purpose, a calling, it must be to love you with every fragile cell of my mortal body. And someday you will die, and I do not know if I will still be around to see it, but of this I am certain: the earth will rumble and rupture and crack itself open in its grief, and the seas will wish they could drown themselves, and maybe the sun will even blow herself out because how could she bear to shine if you were not around to see it?”

— everything comes back to you // L.H

[oozins]

NOT EVERYTHING FEELS LIKE SOMETHING ELSE

[satin-and-cigarettes]

Marlboro Red

I think you were my Marlboro red

So alluring

Yet deathly

With each kiss

I gave a little bit of my soul to you

A sacrifice you took gladly

With no intent on giving anything back

But fleeting moments of security

And once the smoke faded

And the last drag was taken

You were gone

Leaving me with nothing but consequences I’ll live with forever

And your name forever on my lungs

[sunsetquotes]

“If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can’t know better until knowing better is useless.”

— John Green; Looking for Alaska

[sunsetquotes]

“Maybe there’s something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love, or somewhere you’re afraid to go. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt because it matters.”

— John Green; Will Grayson, Will Grayson