[yungchoioi]

Update: life is good ✨

[saudisociety]

never forget how much i tried to keep you

[hey-itsnao]

!!!!!!!!!!!!

[000l]

go crazy bout me i’ll double it

[yungchoioi]

A part of me is saying I need to let you go. As if it were so simple. As if I’m not comprised of abandonment issues, attachment issues, and the light in your eyes, intertwined between my ribs. They have splintered into bone. Fragments of the love you once held for me, are all I can feel. With every exhale, I feel the stab of what I lost. There’s a tightness in my chest since that day. No matter how deeply I try to breathe, I can’t get relief. I so desperately need a release. But all I can feel are the repercussions of my actions. Vice grip to chest. Inflammation is the body’s response to anything harmful. Sometimes I wonder if this tightness in my heart, is my body responding to the pain. My body trying to fix what isn’t tangible. Heart inflamed, and my chest just isn’t big enough to contain it.

[yungchoioi]

One day it will all make sense. One day all the pieces to the puzzle will fit. Those once jagged edges will find their counterpart. They will fit seamlessly and you’ll wonder how you didn’t see this before. How you ever settled for less. And you will understand why you could never force those edges together, bc they weren’t cut from the same board. You’ll find your edges and corners aren’t as complicated as you’ve been lead to believe. You will find someone who will love them smooth again. No more guessing games, the pieces will effortlessly come together to form one. The rose colored lenses will come off and you’ll see everything and everyone for what it truly was. You’ll thank them for coming. You’ll thank them for leaving and allowing fate to complete the masterpiece of your heart.

[funeral]

Clementine von Radics, James

[miseducatedmelanicmuse]

[yungchoioi]

My heart is restless. It is nameless and homeless. A stranger in my own body, screaming to get out.

These days, it feels more like bare knuckles and concrete . More like a once expansive galaxy, now imploding within itself. Like busy city streets, everyone rushing aimlessly to go nowhere. My heart feels more like ruin and rubble. The leftover decay of what once thrived.

I search for you among the city streets. Frantically, desperately. Crying out your name as if God were listening. I see the vandalized, deserted houses, the patches of dead grass, lifeless. The cracks coursing through the pavement. Like the occluded veins coursing through this heart. Blockages of your hands on the back of my neck. Your eyes reminiscent of open arms. Your laughter which made me believe again.

Now all I feel is the lack. The void. The heavy weight of my mistakes.

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “What I couldn’t explain via text”

[Text ID: “I still don’t know how / to love someone / without swallowing them.”]

[yungchoioi]

[yungchoioi]

People always tell me how I’m so hard to read. Stoic has often been used. It’s not for a lack of wanting to connect. but I am written in a language so hard to understand, when all I want is to be understood. I want to be heard, felt. But my skin is like braille to the touch. Thoughts, ricochet, skin vibrating, words lost in the spin. Left alone only with a heavy heart and empty hands. Coming up short, searching for the words I can’t find.

[thoughtkick]

“Sometimes the people around you won’t understand your journey. They don’t need to. It’s not for them.”

— Joubert Botha

[yungchoioi]

Gym, if nothing else, I can always count on you. ♥️🖤

[wordscanbeenough]

“And I saw it didn’t matter / who had loved me or who I loved. I was alone.”

— Dorianne Laux, from “After Twelve Days of Rain”, What We Carry

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

“I could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone And all i loved, i loved alone.”

— Edgar Allan Poe, From “Alone.”

[dinsintegration]

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

[lone-nyctophile]

- Beau Taplin