Is Love SUPPOSED To Feel Like This?
is love SUPPOSED to feel like this?
am i supposed to think of the way
your knife twisted in my chest
clogging my bloodstream
the iron in your love building in my eyes
the water you promised to give my flowers
rolling down my cheeks.
is love supposed to feel like this?
am i supposed to think of the way
my bed feels empty without you
sheets wrapping around my throat
chaining me
a mock of your embrace.
is love supposed to feel like this?
you come near me
my lungs run dry
you go away from me
the little thing that beats for you
just.
stops.
is love supposed to feel like this?
like sorrow given form
like every rose petal bleeding with our lost embraces
like every gentle breeze teasing me of you
wherever there is love,
there is grief.
and what is the greater grief
than to be here,
alone,
when you're not?
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Odysseus, holding the door: After you.
Achilles: No, thanks. I never let anyone walk behind me. 7/10 attacks are from the back.
Odysseus: Still leaves a 30% chance that I’ll attack you from the front.
Achilles: Yeah but it’d be easier to stop. I could always bl–
Odysseus: *slaps him*
the universe has made you like a painting.
it painted the best parts of you in hues of red and gold
it stroked your curves with the softest brushes
traced your attitude with the brightest orange
seduced your personality with the smoothest touches.
the universe has made you like a painting.
it filled your past with the darker shades
scraped over your canvas with its knives
left you out in the sun to dry
put more paint over your past lives.
the universe has made you like a painting.
and now i stop at the museum
touching your hardened frame with my callused hands
and i look at the painting, and i sigh
someone who finally understands.
each stroke, each colour
each shade, however fainting,
draws me in, to your landscape, to you
the universe has made you like a painting.
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the song of achilles by madeline miller
Think of all the people who wronged you. Think of them. The people who left you standing on the sidewalk, the people who made you cry. The people who stood by and let you cry alone. Think of them
Now set them on fire.