Hi

I thought I'd be fine when you decided to leave. But here I am in a puddle of my own tears and trying to figure out to turn off these damned things called emotions.

2 AM Thoughts

I love the wind bringing me along with it was my feet and legs work together with my arms, turning over at a rate so fast it acts as my own heart beat. Pain that will only last for at least 20 minutes welcomes me in a strong embrace that I will kindly welcome, leaving the door open as long as it will come and go. I work for that pain so I can receive the pride of winning personal battles. Personal records will always come and go, but running will always be my one true love. For it works with my whole body, it tells me that it loves me, giving good days with good runs. Others I will get scolded for even trying to put on spikes that many other great runners have worn before, because my time is not now and will not happen. I must be ready to achieve the level of greatness that my love wants for me. My love makes me a lion, a hunter, but also a gazelle, gracefully adapted to what I know to do. My first love will give me gifts, perseverance and stamina to complete my goals, because he only wants the best for me. But he will also make my days difficult and proud. Giving me reason to continue going ahead. To continue to love him.

Why I run

How do I get you to notice me and my feelings? How do I get you to see how hard I've fallen? And how in the hell will I know if you've fallen just as hard for me if you do everything you can to conceal it?

When you say we aren't friends while smiling. I know you're lying

Maybe it was just the lighting with the trees and the half hidden sun, but I swear, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And you wanted to sit next to me. Unbelievable.

Inside the Artist #3

You look at me but see her. You touch my skin, but you feel her. You kiss my lips, but you think that your lips are touching hers. I’m not her. I’m not the perfectly thin girl you used to date. My stomach comes out to play most nights, but you don't know this yet. I’d rather not be picked up and spun around yet you do it anyway. I’m not her. Yet you still call me pretty, attractive, fit. I feel I am none of these things. You look at me, but you see this perfect image of what I wish I was. You look at me and see something I’m just not.

I’m not her

I feel the closest to you when you are the farthest away.

I can feel you in my heart

Sitting in complete silence with you isn't awkward anymore. In fact, it brings me great joy in knowing that just my presence is enough for you. And that we don't need to do anything of extravagance is a comfort of its very own.

While you slept with your dog

She wasn’t used to all the attention. So when she felt she was safe to open up, she felt like she was suffocating those around her. And when she felt that she did enough damage, she became quiet. A ghost of herself, to scared to keep talking in fear of losing the ones she became so attached to.

I'm the girl. I'm the ghost.

Being happy hurts. It’s one truth of the world no one wishes to speak about. Being happy doesn’t allow for sadness. Being happy doesn’t allow for others to help you. And lord forbid that you actually say that you aren’t ‘happy’.

“But you have a such a good life”

I never thought I'd be able to say that I don't love you anymore.

But now I can