You Make The Simplest Things Magnanimous.

"Shame dies when stories are told in safe places." - Unknown

They say a picture of you is worth a Thousand words,

But looking at you my memory is Somewhat blurred

Watched my efforts end in vain like blood

Thought my memories of you would stick like glue

Scrolling through my gallery

Pictures of you once took they toll

But now my heart feels nothing

In the midst of our forgotten dialogues

I shed no tears for what remains

I'm always one to remember the good Times

Yet with you I remember nothing

They always teach of true love

Never of true heartbreak

So, like they say in the scriptures

Blessed are those,

who have never met you they shall never know the meaning of true heartbreak

2017.12.17

I wanted to write honestly what I really think of the girl I love so I did, I won't be able to tell but hear Tumblr

when I think about sunshine and laughter  it is your face that comes to my mind.

I'm holding you tightly so you don't slip away away, I think  I'm holding on too tight my finger lingering slowly up, it strokes your soft hand, along your cheeks, I twist my finger around your hair. damn, I forgot  you don't like that.

I see something in your eyes fuck, I'm stranded in an art museum.

I'm alone in your garden and my head is full of you. I like you too much I want you all to myself. What is your dream, this world. Our Dreamworld. The garden we are laying seeds down for. I think, what if one day I have to forget your eyes? Your voice ?   I wonder will I lose you? I'm holding on so tight, it feels like I'm fighting a whole city.

The seeds, what will happen to the seeds I'm planting. the trees, the flowers, the lilies, the roses, the sunflowers and avo trees - they always were too expensive in shops. will they have blossomed? Have you tasted its fruit? will I have to tear it down, Will I have to burn this garden too? I can't,

I will water it forever and wait but what if you return only with a firestick? My tears fill up rivers for you. But my feelings fill the ocean. Is this an endless garden? don't plant thistles or ivy! My heart pains, I hate tearing down gardens, Have I already? Tell me what it is that you see? In the mirror I see, no lily, no rose, no sunflower. I turn and see baby blue Cadillacs driven by peg-legged nuns on pogo sticks. I lay my head on your heart I hear one, two, three heartbeats.

Will I be turned into a person who's text is left on read. but don't worry I say. I will never say a word

Thinking of how writings and bathrooms have become my safe spaces, to the point where I can be around other people, and instead just go to a bathroom and just write, but it's also a balancing act, the act of trying not feel everything at once lest you break down...And how to actually allow your emotions to flow and let them not define you. It's an uncomfortable, comfortable safe space where I know this writing helps, but I don't would rather not feel anything, life is weird but true like that, we are all somewhat prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment—we at certain points in our lives are all defined by something we cannot change

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?”]

https://iglovequotes.net/

like a little lost sputnik 

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“I choose to love you in silence because in silence I find no rejection, and in silence no one owns you but me.”

— Rumi

flannery o'connor