Writingthestorm - Tumblr Posts

And You taught me that maybe, I shouldn't be shaping myself to the expectations of others, just for a morsel of love

And you? You taught me that no one could ever really react to what makes up who I am -- we are all just guessing at the shape and place of all the edges of each other's souls --

And she taught me that the ones that accuse you tend to perpetrate the very things they worry you do --

And the last one, You? Taught me that I can't trust the words "I love you,"

because even when you mean it, believe it with your whole heart, you can be wrong --

and eventually, when you realize, I'll only be left alone again.

Why do lovers have to be lessons?

Let go

i want to let go

let go of everything

that's keeping me closed.

i want to untie the knot and unravel the rope

wrapped tight around my body

holding captive

everything that i am.

it tightens further,

squeezing my insides

until my feelings are stuffed into my organs

and my arteries threaten to burst

and bleed blue.

all the frustration tucked into

the nooks and crannies,

coerced out of my heart,

leaving the vessel hollow.

and now it just screams to be filled.

i want to let go and explode,

uncaring of the consequences.

i want to crush

under the soles of my shoes

the titles and expectations

like i did my dreams

for they were 'unrealistic'.

assurances of 'you're still young'

don't comfort me.

let me be young then.

let me be reckless like the rain

as i watch from the safety of my window.

let me live like a storm

that wreaks havoc in a few hours,

the aftermath echoing for years.

i want to be unpredictable

like the weeping clouds that turn

the clementine sky gunmetal grey.

i want to let go.

do i love him or his kisses?

butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

dusting my cheeks with a blush.

do i love him or his compliments?

words pouring over me like silky sweet honey.

cascading down in a delicate melody.

do i love him or his hugs?

warmth spreading through my chest

like a beam of sunshine.

wrapping me up in a cozy blanket.

do I love him or his whispered secrets?

smooth voice leaving a trail

of goosebumps along my skin.

trusting me;

a key securing a lock

do I love him or his hands

clasping mine tightly,

fingers entwined,

murmuring a promise.

do i love him?

or do i love the way he makes me feel?

i wonder what it's like

in that head of yours.

is it waves of sadness

pulling you under till you can't breathe?

or fists of regret

crushing you under their weight?

do claws of guilt pierce your skin,

talons drawing lifeblood?

or do flames of greed lick your arms,

scorching your entire being?

is fear your nicotine?

killing you from the inside out

while life without it is unknown to you?

or does a leash of longing tug at your heart,

as you desperately seek

what it is that you long for?

do red clouds of rage

paint your world bloody?

or does a dark cloak of anxiety

cast a shadow over the rest of us?

do you wear a blindfold of jealousy

until you've worn yourself down?

or a mask of annoyance

shutting us all out?

does loneliness engulf you

in a mocking embrace?

or do you spend your time

struggling to crawl out the grave

you dug yourself?

who's the puppeteer

pulling the strings that lift your smile?

is your smile real?

i hope;

i hope it is.

i hope you see it flicker in your darkness;

i hope you salvage a sliver of it—

of hope.

did i know you?

i still think of you

a passing thought in my mind's traffic.

i pay no attention,

"ignore it and it'll go away"

most days, it works.

but some days, in the dead of the night

when the darkness engulfs

both me and my musings,

it does not work.

it does not work and I reach out,

clutching that thought,

clinging to it

the idea of you.

the you I've built in my head.

the you who's soft as the petals of a rose,

comforting like a cup of warm chocolate.

but it isn't real,

it never was.

the real you pricks me

like the thorns of that very rose;

the real you is cold, indifferent.

or maybe,

i don't know you.

my mind deceives me,

there is no black and white,

only a grey haze.

as my fingers hover over your name on my phone,

i pull them back.

maybe I know you, maybe I don't.

maybe I miss you, but it's not enough.

your thorns have pricked me more than once.

so I still think of you,

but I'll never let you know.

ghost of you

a lingering touch on my arm

a quick hug against your side.

gently, you interlace your fingers with mine

just as gently, you press a kiss to my temple.

your thumbs catch the tears on my cheek

and your arms hold me tight against your chest.

your sweet words bring a smile to my face

and your low voice brings an ache to my stomach.

i miss you

deeply, terribly, painfully.

i miss you, yet i don't even know you.

maybe one day i'll meet you

or someone like you,

and i can finally tell them the words

i so desperately wish to say to you.

i am aching

for a life that is impossible

filled with only the best parts

of books and movies

of green fields and blue skies

of stolen kisses and whispered secrets

i want the pretty rain and soft snow

to return home to a lover's embrace

and food on the table

i want purple clouds and silver stars,

yellow trees and golden air.

i want the world to be rose-tinted and

tinged with summer

the smell of books mixed with that of the rain

white fluffy sheets and hot chocolate

glowing hair and swollen lips

happiness and that's all.

i'm starting to run out of fingers

to count the amount of times

you've made my heart flutter in its cage.

a gentle brush of shoulders

or an insult mixed in with smiles

when you grab my arm

to stop me from doing something stupid

or you shake my hand

and hold it for a second too long.

the sound of my name from your lips

carries with it more weight

than the two syllables ever held

and i can't help but want to know you

to travel the paths that led you here

to read the map which points

towards the mountains you've climbed

and the rivers you've swam across.

i want to know what you've left behind

and the secrets you're hiding

i want to know

if you prefer moonlight

to bright yellow sunshine.

dogs or cats? pink or blue?

an endless list of questions

i want more

and more

like a book whose pages are yet to be filled

and i'll wait for you to write down your stories

until we run out of paper and ink

death by a thousand cuts

a slight sting is all i feel

when your words fall like darts

against the piece of my soul

that i bared to you

you turn another blind eye to me

and i make another excuse for you

another brick on the wall of defense

i've built around your name

should i beg for your love?

get down on my knees

and ask you, "please?"

please love me

like i love the sky

in all its hues and shades

please accept me

with my deformed clouds

and flashes of rain

but all i get are safety pins

piercing my skin

over and over again

you hurt me in ways

i can't seem to name

we seem to be doing just fine

until we're not

and you say our end came out of nowhere

but it was death by a thousand cuts

Was it out of comfort that we stayed together? Because when I think back to us, I only remember a sense of warmth, of not having to think before I speak or worry about what you’d think of me. I can’t think of the reasons I loved you or the reasons you loved me. ‘Best friends’ – the two words that kept us tied together but separated by a line. A line drawn in the sand near the waves; a line we might have unknowingly crossed countless times. Maybe during the five-hour phone calls at midnight or a heart emoji at the end of a text, one that meant a lot more than it should have. But at 16, you were the only love I knew. At 19, you slip into my mind sometimes, and I smile back at the years that have passed. I sometimes think of what could have been, but she’s made my life a lot easier. You’re with her now, and the line is a firm one, carved into wood, and a boundary clearly established. A line that has reduced us to old friends who keep in touch.