babyG

“He's the kind of pretty that gives you butterflies.”

[ughbutterflies]

“Confetti in her veins.” 23/06/17 ; N.B // I bled confetti for you. You lured me into your atrophy like an invitation to what would soon become a funeral but disguised itself as a birthday party. My heart found a rate that it hadn’t yet discovered. A pace so invigorating that my rib cage almost collapsed in on itself. I caught myself staring at the streamers in the hollows of your cheeks left from a party you attended last year. The jagged edges, I suppose you weren’t ready to take down. The leftover slice of cake in your refrigerator, remnants of what I can assume is a ballon on the floor; you still hadn’t left that party. Foolish for me to think you could possibly throw one. You showered me with wrapping paper and fairy lights. Unknowingly, the litter of plastic cutlery, cups and plates illuminated a form of a ‘welcome’ sign. If only for an instant, it felt like home. For you, I became a Confetti Girl. Because confetti is exhilarating, wonderful but confetti is also messy. Confetti is a mess that nobody likes to stay after the party & sweep up the remains of something once wonderful. It will attach itself to your sleeves & it will latch itself into crevices where it never was before. Confetti is a disaster that nobody can bother with. But you basked in the radiance of my torn paper sides. We had jagged edges, together. My invite list was a black, white and blank page, how could I throw a party, when you were the most colourful thing in my mind, we could’ve been on the brink of a cosmic miracle. You didn’t mind the mess of a confetti girl, almost like you understood. As if there were corners of confetti buried beneath your lungs. You never tried to fix me because you never saw the need to clean anything. I will be the unwanted guest you felt obliged to invite because you are the party that I will never bring myself to leave. I bled confetti for you. You are the left over slice of cake in my refrigerator that I couldn’t bring myself to throw away.

12:16AM 23/06/17 I have never cared for parties, until I bled confetti.

[ughbutterflies]

She had never felt quite as broken until she found herself searching for love at the bottom of a bottle.

sober thoughts, drunk decisions.

[ughbutterflies]

You were my cup of tea, but I drink vodka now.

mixed feelings & mixed drinks.

[ughbutterflies]

"And just like that, we were strangers again. Like nothing had ever happened to begin with, as if it was a hallucination or a dream. Whenever your eyes pierce the room to meet mine, if only for an instant; it's like we never existed, like we had ventured into a parallel universe. Yet, in the fractions of time that I get to see you from a distance; I notice somewhat of an emptiness lingering in your eyes that too lingers in my mind. Like you feel it too or maybe it was always like that. That's one of my least favourite stages of love; when you become silent enemies & realise, you always were. Like those three hour phone calls had been erased from your recollection or the warm hugs were just an illusion. It was as if you stopped caring, stopped listening & stopped loving but My heart stopped too. You'll always have that stupid thing that pumps in my chest, you know? But one day, I'll stop caring too. One day, you'll just be the boy I used to text & I won't have a thing to write about, whatever will I do? The spark is gone, your name doesn't light up on my phone anymore, you don't smile when you see me, you probably have forgotten my name by now. And it was just like that, we were back to being strangers, again."

— or maybe, we always were.

[ughbutterflies]

"oh, here it comes again. Another 3:00AM with nothing but him constantly rummaging around the corners of my mind. oh, there goes one of many tears ruining the mascara I hadn't taken off. Pathetic really, I find myself pulling down the page & refreshing my screen thousands of times in the span of a minute; in the hopes that your name lights up on my phone but it never does , re-assuring you still care, or ever did. But the truth is your not. You're in your bed, buried in bedsheets dreaming about some other girl who probably has straight teeth & long her with legs that belong on a runway right? I'm just the girl with the pigtails that won't leave you alone, anymore. My makeup is running down my face now, I'm hyperventilating with a pillow covering my face so my parents can sleep well, Reading old text messages doesn't help. I suppose if your up at 3:17AM you're either in love or heart broken."

— but I don't know what I really am, anymore.