Vous êtes belles, mais vous êtes vides. On ne peut pas mourir pour vous.
I can fill my life with drink
And I can surround myself with friends
But then I start to think
Will this pain ever end?
Remember when life was good and somebody loved you
So, you’re leaving.
How much more can a heart break in 22 days?
How much more can a heart break in 387 days?
How much more can a heart take?
I’m am NOT looking forward to my 5:30 alarm to go off…
Running through my hair
Imitating every move you made through it.
Inhaling hard as if to plug a hole inside of me.
Draped over a pillow instead of your warm body, with beating heart deeper inside of it
sending it’s vibration of love into mine.
Crossed over my duvet instead of your legs as it should be.
Curled up and crumbling in this shared space.
Unlikely feeling the same.
sometimes people who are sad dont always need the “it gets better talk”
sometimes people just want to hear “you are sad, you are trying your best, and it’s okay. you’re okay and you’re alive and that’s a big accomplishment”
because i know for myself unconditional optimism gets really fucking annoying. sometimes i just want to be sad and have it be okay that im sad.
don’t make me feel weirder than i already do in my own skin.