#misplacedpens

[misplacedpens]

The latest Tweets from misplacedpens (@misplacedpens). writer / photographer / daydreamer

follow the twitter for my (barely) poetic thoughts ^

[ceramicbeetle]

misplacedpens replied to your post:there  should really be some kind f buddy system...

the app thing is actually such a good idea

right? like what’s the job for people who set up programs for college, i can get my degree in that

[misplacedpens]

we’re older and i’m not laughing, i’m crying - still. we’re older and we don’t talk anymore, we’re older and we are not doing anything

we’re older and i’m still writing; you’re a myth, how does it feel to not exist

[misplacedpens]

it’s not about happy and sad. it’s about empty and full, light and dark, breathing easy and choking. yes, choking - it’s struggling for your last breath, only to realize the hand strangling you is your own. it’s about not knowing how to let go.

it’s about black holes making themselves at home in your chest, it’s about black holes wearing out their welcome and turning deaf. it’s about wanting to crawl out of your skin, wanting to break your ribs and rip your heart out, it’s about bleeding and never seeing red. it’s about staring at a blank wall for hours wishing you could cry, or scream, or something. it’s about the tears never coming.

[misplacedpens]

sensitive girl

it’s okay, you don’t have to worry so much about breaking me

i know i come with FRAGILE tattooed on my forehead but it’s okay, i’m tougher than you think

it’s okay, you don’t have to tiptoe around me

i’m used to shattered glass and making a mess of things

[misplacedpens]

there are too many parts of me that want to love you and not enough telling me i shouldn’t. i shouldn’t. you are not good for me, i know, but my soul is heavy, always; i need you arms around me. i need you here with me. i’m afraid of my deams. i’m afraid i would do all the wrong things. i would melt into your arms, i would kiss you, i would let you take me everywhere i’ve been too scared to go. i would do everything wrong. if you told me you loved me i would say i loved you too; i’m so sorry, i’ve made a life out of lying. i call myself a writer now.

still in my ink (part 32) / misplacedpens

[misplacedpens]

can we please get rid of the idea that strong is synonymous with emotionless?

my whole life all i’ve heard is that i’m too ‘sensitive’ - that i need to toughen up, that i’m weak for crying, that i need to stop being such a girl (which is a whole other post, i don’t have time right now to talk about how angry my gender being used as an insult makes me). 

can we get rid of the idea that you can only be one thing? the idea that we have to exist simply, the idea that we should not embrace our complexities.

try to tell me that my hands, the hands that shake when i talk to strangers, are not the same hands that pulled my sisters to safety when they were, literally, drowning. try to tell me that my ankles, that i have sprained over 40 times combined, are not the same ankles that supported my legs as i ran away from grown men shouting obscenities at me. try to tell me that my mind, the one that has told me every day since i was 10 years old to end my own life, is not the same mind that gave me the words to say when i talked strangers off ledges and away from blades lusting after their wrists. try to tell me that my eyes, the eyes that cry over spilled milk and at the end of every movie, are not the same hope-filled eyes i saw in the mirror this morning. try to tell me that they are not the same eyes that convinced me, You Can get through another day.

try to put me in a box: try to tell me i cannot be sensitive and strong, that i am less than for crying. try me. 

[misplacedpens]

i’m sorry. you loved me the best you could and it should have been enough, but i was too busy waiting for someone i made up.