#mainlysad

[ewcutie]

mint lips and cologne my pillow is stained and i do not want to bleach the smell of your presence out hazel eyes and blonde hair you left a strand in my bed but the gold flecks in your irises won’t leave my brain soft jaw and not-so-soft voice caress my mind like your arms did and i slept underneath your warmth blanket and sheet could never match the solid friction we made together

things he took but left behind

[ewcutie]

I’m really sad. Not the type of sad that people get when a relative or their dog dies or when they don’t get accepted to the college of their dreams or whatever else in the world there is to get sad about. Nothing is below me and I am better than no one but this is the type of sad I don’t think anyone ever gets. The kind where waking up makes you want to dig your nails into your skin and instead of carving his name into trees you want to carve it into your thighs. Your arms. Your stomach. When the first letter of his name appears in every word you ever write and his smile doesn’t escape the inside of your eyes when you write down the word “molecule.” His smile doesn’t make you happy anymore, it just makes you cry. My mom comes in my room sometimes and asks me if I’m okay and I yell at her to leave. I can’t help but snap at those around me when all I want to do is be alone. All I ever want to do now is sleep and cry and I don’t want to play or go to school or see sunlight. It’s the kind of sad that makes you think you have cancer, some kind of terminal illness or something because your chest starts hurting all the time and you can’t breathe as well as you could before and your throat closes up when you ask for notes from the boy in class that sits next to you who has his same name. It’s not his fault you’re sad, but he triggers it. Just like the smell of Dentyne Ice or Polo cologne. Just like when you see boys with long hair and dark eyebrows. I bought his cologne last month and sometimes I spray it on my bedspread when I miss him and want to feel like I’m in his arms again. I’m almost out. I miss him a lot. I check our texts from time to time. I sent the last 4 messages. “I miss you.” “I don’t know what I did.” “I miss kissing you and holding your hand while you drive us to your place.” “Why don’t you ever text me back? I miss you so much baby.” He probably found someone else. He probably didn’t like me calling him baby. He’s not my baby anymore. He’s probably hers. He probably kisses her neck now and not mine. They probably hold hands and I bet he touches her thighs too. He used to do that to me. God, I’m so sad.

[gothpout]

I went outside for once

[ewcutie]

i keep taking too many pills just to spit them back up and i slash my wrists enough to see red but i never cut too deep. i want to be gone but when i close my eyes the only image i see is you and i hope that you might make it better and i cover the wounds and i throw out the pills for you but im tired of pretending it doesnt hurt me because jesus christ ive never felt my own heart beat ache as much since you decided that you wanted to love her instead

[gothpout]

how to cover eye bags 101

[kaysearae]

No one ever told me that when a boy wanted me,

it would never be just for the reason of "me".

Everyone is in love with someone else,

and that's why they do the things they do.

He fucks me because he loves her,

I am the pill,

but I am not the high.

I am the aspirin,

there temporarily to ease you of your pain,

your addiction,

to the high of her.

Isn't this always the case,

that the arms you're being held in

are longing to wrap themselves around something more

familiar?

We do what we do because we are in love,

but not with each other.

We are not in beautiful, satisfyingly safe love.

We are in head spinning, regretful, unhealthy love with others.

We are in pure lust with each other.

Maybe our tongues will touch but you and I both know

it's just for show,

our minds aren't on the body in front of us,

but on the bodies that got up and left.

They aren't coming back,

you and I both know that.

We get hurt and we think that

maybe

just maybe,

we are being let in again,

accepted by those who have sawed us in half

and dragged us across the floor.

But instead we'll play pretend.

Pretend that we don't remember the colors of their eyes,

pretend that we remember each others.

[gothpout]

I look scared

[gothpout]

Breezeblocks - Alt-J