Too Much

too much

is there such a thing as

too much love?

can you love someone too much?

to the point where it's overflowing.

it grows until there's no more space;

until you can't breathe.

the love,

it consumes you.

it consumes your thoughts,

your time,

your emotions,

your entire being.

it twists and turns,

growing and changing,

until you don't recognize it anymore.

until you don't recognize yourself.

it doesn't matter though,

because you'll love every moment of it.

even the parts you hate

you'll love;

you've got too much of it anyway.

i ignore you for months

barely sparing you a glance,

rarely acknowledging your presence.

you've been by my side for years

saying nothing

as i break parts of you,

replacing them soon enough.

And when i fall asleep on your side,

you silently let me.

allowing my fingers

to dance down your neck

playing out melodies;

tunes sung on my command.

and when i scratch at your surface

out of sheer boredom

there is not a single word of protest.

the callouses on my skin

are a small price to pay when

i leave you for months

fascinated by someone new.

you watch soundlessly

as i hold someone else in my arms;

a new temptation this week.

but you know I'll come back

and i know

that when i do,

you'll welcome me with open arms.

This is about my guitar lol

“maybe i can find myself in another realm because i sure as hell have lost myself in this one”

- drunk thoughts // a.c

I love this 😳

Stability is a product of society.

So are careers. And growth.

Nature never designed life to be stable.

Flowers bloom and wither every day.

Wasps fly and fall every day.

Lions don’t want larger caves after a hunt.

Trees remain in one place all their lives.

Every living thing, except humans, is just being.

It is only us who are aspiring, planning, visualising, amending, and redoing what life is supposed to be.

I should have left

when the kisses moved from my lips to my cheeks.

I should have left

when the warm hugs

turned into quick brushes.

I should have left

when a cold shoulder replaced

the one I leaned on.

When a few words

sparked arguments

and hour long silences,

I should have turned my back on you.

But I didn't

And that's my mistake to bear.

You were bitter

so, so bitter,

but your sweet aftertaste

had me coming back for seconds

and more.

I should have left when

my name on your lips stopped sounding like music

and your eyes

no longer held all the stars

in the night sky.

I should have left you

the moment we fell out of love.

“I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.”

— Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait In Letters