#paris448

[betweenparisandphoenix]

I always wanted to ask you why did you stay but my father taught me to never ask questions if you don’t wanna know the answer to them He taught me not to lie but when you asked me what’s new I said I quit smoking when I really meant I haven’t stopped loving you whenever I think about killing myself, I increase my meds and most of the time, calling you my friend makes me wanna die I want to call and ask if you ever loved me but I’m scared you might say no and terrified you might say yes

[betweenparisandphoenix]

Scientists say your brain doesn’t care If you’re high on cocaine or falling in love The only thing that matters is how much You can get in your system before you overdose I know what that feels like since you came around Got me from cloud nine straight to the ground And like most addicts, I built up resistance No amount of LSD boys and crystal meth girls is enough To reach the high I got from being with you Cause loving you feels like that first last cigarrette Three months after I quit: It tastes better than anything and I know it’ll kill me just the same still, that’s all I need in my veins

[betweenparisandphoenix]

the thing about addicts is that they’ll blame anything else but the drugs I know because my mother used to show up with new bruises every week and say she started it because my friend refuses to eat even if she’s starving because it’s been four years and thirty nine guys and if you showed up at my door at 2 in the morning I’d still let you in I’m sorry that isn’t enough to make you take the razor away from your skin when you blame yourself for someone else’s sin even now I’m not quite sure why you were such addictive heroin and everyone else’s just plain cheap beer though I know this love might end up killing me I still want it in my system I still want you in my veins

just like you can't be an ex-alcoholic, loving you requires a lot of strenght to remain sober

[betweenparisandphoenix]

eleven months and twenty one days after you stopped answering my texts I was probably by my eight cigarette and the stranger in my bed asked me "why do you smoke so much so fast?" and suddenly I was hit by one of those times when you don't really have an answer I guess I just had a lot of things I wanted to kill inside me the same way he wanted to fuck his ex-girlfriend's memories out of me I tried not to think about the fact that even though he put his arms around me he had to wear his jeans as soon as we were finished or that he showed up at my door at 2:30 in the morning with three beers and a pack of cheap condoms because he knew I'd be awake but looking at his blue eyes and blond hair and smooth beard all I could think about was how different you were and still so goddamn alike

"but like a new disease, she's still too young to treat" (inspired by Damien Rice's "Volcano")

[betweenparisandphoenix]

(...) but you have a light heart and a heavy soul; you find more beauty in sadness than you probably should. It's not easy to love you. I still do, though.

[betweenparisandphoenix]

"[...] I wanted to turn her into poetry myself, but I’m not good with words and she was already an artwork."

[betweenparisandphoenix]

“I met a girl whose eyes were made of stardust and sand storms. She wasn’t afraid to play with matches, she’d always run with scissors and scrape her knees from falling in love too many times. I wondered how something so broken could be so beautiful. When she said there was nothing special about her, I wondered how she couldn’t see she was the type of girl poets wrote about on sleepless nights. I wanted to turn her into poetry myself, but I'm not good with words and she was already an artwork. Still I wondered how something so beautiful could be so broken.”

 Kintsugi

[betweenparisandphoenix]

I'm sorry I couldn't love you. I'm sorry I mentioned her name way too many times before we were together - and kept on mentioning her name way too many times after we were. I'm sorry I kept on wearing her sweater after you gave me yours and I'm sorry I only wrote poems about her eyes. You know what they say: you can't chose who you fall in love with - and I'm sorry for saying this, but if I could, I'd still chose her. But I am sorry I couldn't love you; you deserve more. ------------------------------------------------------ I'm sorry I wasn't enough. That I wasn't capable of making you feel whole. It's hard to try and fix someone else when you keep cutting yourself on the pieces of you they left on the floor. I'm sorry I never said I love you. I'm sorry you said it too many times. And even though you were the only person I kissed that didn't taste like vodka and wasted time, I'd always wake up hungover and sick from the night before. Loving you was never the problem. I just couldn't love myself enough to keep you.

an open letter to the one who loved me and the one I loved