Living-healing - Poetry Helps

every piece of me is begging myself just to ask how you feel about me. i need to know if when you picture your future i’m the person beside you. i need to know if my smile makes your heart skip a beat. if you love me back because god damn not knowing is making me losing my fucking mind. i try so hard for you. i show you in every way i know how that you are who my heart belongs to. i started loving you before i ever learned how to love someone right. now i know how and i still love you. i would do anything to just prove you to you how much i’ve changed. that i will do better this time. but i don’t think you care anymore... maybe it’s finally time to let you go.

I SWORE THIS YEAR ID STOP CHASING PEOPLE WHO DONT WANT ME BUT I STILL LOVE YOU// 4am

real love is not like the poetry. it is not i love you spat down each other’s throats or finding a reason to live again because you found this one person. It is so much simpler than that. real love is telling them to go back to sleep because it is still early and you know they need it, even if you want them to be awake with you. It’s realizing it won’t always be easy but still choosing them every day and wanting to be the very best for them. that’s it, it’s not as deep as you think.

4am

“Now I know I’ve got a heart because it is breaking.”

—

L. Frank Baum

It frustrates me so much that I’m not allowed to talk about my trauma’s to anyone from my family. Only because it puts them in bad lighting. But no shit they are being put in bad lighting. They are the reasons i have some of these trauma’s. They should have thought about this before traumatizing me, right? Not my fault that they look bad when I talk about the things they did to me that made me struggling with these trauma’s.

you know when youre on the edge of an emotional breakdown and your throat feels tight so its hard to swallow , to breathe - and your chest feels like its being crushed by an enormous weight? yeah i hate that

“You know, I finally got over you. I spilt all my emotions into notebooks and cried through a pen and was left with pages of poems filled with you. It took me years and a strength I never knew I had. You changed me, there is no doubting that, I never returned to the girl I once was. The naïve sixteen-year-old who thought that love would never hurt her. I was angry at you for a while, and then I wasn’t, and then all I did was cry and then I just longed to be held by you at 3am when my tear soaked pillow reminded me of everything we’d lost. Then i was over you. I really was, I could drink black coffee again, I could go out with my friends again and I could listen to all the songs that reminded me of you with out crying. Then I came home for Christmas to visit my parents in the small town we met. The fairy lights and the Christmas tree and the decorations in everyone’s windows changed something and then I saw you. You hadn’t changed, and the soft twinkling lights against your face made me forget that I was over you and I guess I fell again. I hate that you have the power to do this to me, I hate that you can make me feel like a giddy sixteen-year-old again. I left her behind a long time ago, ran away from her. Moved to the biggest city and got the hardest job I could find. Cut my waist length hair and abandoned my favourite candy floss coloured hair clips. Just so I could leave behind the girl who had no other aspirations than to marry you and have kids and a dog and a cute house with a fence and daffodils in the garden the one we always use to talk about. I ran away and left behind the girl who didn’t need anything more than you. You saw me and you smiled. That little smirk that haunts my dreams but makes them worth remembering. You didn’t ask about my job and you didn’t tell me how proud you were of my promotion; you weren’t impressed by the small town girl living in a big city with an expensive apartment and designer shoes. All you said was “you cut your hair? I like it” After all those years and tears and poems and waking up next to strange men with blue eyes and brown hair, all you could say was “I like your hair”? I’ve never fallen harder or faster or deeper in love. We stood on the same pavement we stood when you gave me a plastic ring all those years ago when we were sixteen and we started laughing like we were sixteen again, and you looked at me like you use to before everything got complicated and heavy and hard. We aren’t sixteen anymore and things are even more complicated now and I don’t love you as much as I did. I love you more, because the truth is I never stopped, I didn’t get over you I just buried you and replaced you with the little things I could fall in love with like hot cocoa in the winter and walks through the park on my days off. I guess when I came back to this small town the girl I ran away from all those years ago found me again and now all I can think about is candy floss coloured hair clips and what we might name our kids, whether they’ll have my eyes and your nose or my long legs and your smile. I don’t know but I know I was made to love you and every time I look into your blue eyes I’m certain that I’ll love you as long as I’m alive.”

—

L.S.

This is my first long one so let me know if you like/don’t like it

“I want to love, but I don’t want to break again.”

Love (via nemoday)

We should stop making kids who already struggle fixing themselves think that it is their responsibility to fix their bullies too

“I don’t hate you. I’m not mad at you. In fact, I hardly feel anything at all. Some days are better, the days with friends and family when all there is to do is celebrate life in all it’s splendor. But on other days, those quiet, lonely days, the hole in the chamber of my heart where you once lived, feels bigger, deeper, the chill of the winds of the spring rains blows right through it. I’m not saying that I feel incomplete, because even before you came into me I never felt whole, But that place in my heart that you filled is empty now, and all I feel is hollow and cold.”

— more passing thoughts of you (5/17/17), thekaijusleeps