To the 4th of November.

One stage of getting over someone you loved is when you start convincing yourself how it wasn’t love and that it was just an illusion.

That stage of denial and the shoving away of memories into boxes and hiding them under a pile of mess.

Whether it’s a right or wrong method, it helps sometimes, and it’s helping at the moment.

I pray for your happiness more than I pray for mine.

Don’t ask me how I feel about you,

Because the answer is the same.

I honestly don’t know.

I know that the way I view your personality

Has changed over the years,

Which makes it confusing for me to figure out my feelings.

I don’t think I’ll ever love myself wholeheartedly,

Because if I did, I would have accepted your love.

I never think I deserve that kind of admiration.

Maybe that’s why I can only chase behind those

Who can love me less than I do.

Don’t ask me if there’s any hope,

Because the answer is still the same.

I hope you’ll find someone better

Who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.

I feel like,

I can never allow myself to be with you

Because I think too highly of you.

And I think too little of myself.

Don’t tell me what’s on your mind.

Take me for a night drive.

We’ll take turns with the playlist.

We’ll listen in silence.

I’ll light us up a cigarette.

And we can drown in our own pollution

Of thoughts and smoke.

Dear me,

To the beautifully damaged,

Feel the pain.

Don’t cast it away.

Don’t deny what you’ve been through.

Welcome it all.

Accept it with an open soul.

Find peace with not enjoying that kind of happiness again.

Find peace with the sadness that comes after.

Find comfort within the mistakes you’ve said you’ll never repeat,

Find hope within the new ones.

Don’t hurt your mind with your overthinking,

Don’t hurt your soul with guilt and regret.

Don’t resort to physical pain by taking away your body’s innocence as a distraction from the heavy pain you feel in your chest.

Give yourself some time to grieve.

Be patient

Take care of yourself

And some day you’ll love yourself again.

May or may not be a glitch.

That’s why.

That’s why it’s difficult to pull away from your strings.

It isn’t simple love or too much of it

Or that I got used to the idea of you.

Something within me acknowledges the weight of your actions,

When I lacked expectations and hope,

And your efforts inspired me to believe in something greater than my circumstances..

A moment of weakness; A moment of wanting you back.

Please take it back,

Take it all away,

Tell me we have never been,

And we can never be.

Don’t take me apart

For someone else to figure out.

Love yourself more

And just kick me out of your sight

Allow me to hate the idea of you and I,

As I’m confused why there is no fucking us.

“Hello darkness my old friend..” Hello depression. Hello stress.

I thought visiting their graves was enough,

Exchanging thoughts and breathing the same air, for a while.

Then leaving for a more hopeful destination.

But my visits have been more frequent recently,

I thought I’d stop coming a long time ago.

And this weekend, I found an invitation as clear as daylight.

I should have never showed up.

But here I am.

Facing them, drawn to them, again.

Feeding on my weak heart.

Telling me to dig them up from the ground.

Promising me what I couldn’t achieve yet, alone.

Promising me again, that I needed them.

And I’m tempted to give in.

But the last time I did that, it didn’t turn out well.

And the recovery was painful.

So I stand there, silently crying,

Waiting,

Searching for the strength within me

To pull me away from that cemetery

To get over the dead.

To make peace with my living self.

I stand there trembling.

Afraid to let go.

Afraid to be alone.

Are you afraid?

You’re right, 

Life is short

The future is uncertain. 

You know exactly what you want now.

We want things to happen the way we want them, but we cant. 

And I’m scared. 

I’m scared things wont happen.

Because an approval wasnt granted from both parties. 

Because the government stalls or finds a hole to bury our dream in. 

Because we’re not good enough according to our mamas.

Because of fucking high standards that we dont even give a shit about.

Because my life is shorter than we’d expected.

Because someone loses patience.. and -I’d rather not even finish this sentence. 

Because what “we were meant to be” actually referred to was anything but that step. 
But.. I don’t have a better solution than to wait. 

And I cannot go through another battle that is harsher than the situation we’re already in.

I can barely battle distance right now.

I dont have the mental strength to battle family, us, hope, and the chance for that dream to shatter so slowly in front of me. 

And I am terrified. 

I am worried.

All I want is for everything to go as we want them, 

Before it’s too much for you that it all becomes not worth the trouble. 

And I just want to remind you, 

My sweet Demon;

I have always loved you. 

And I will always love you 

in this life, 

the afterlife,

and in all the known 

and unknown dimensions.

Sharp edges can make you bleed

Can water… Shatter?
Have you heard of water shattering?
I did.
Like glass,
I’ve heard it so clearly,
Maybe clearer in the left ear more than the right;
My right ear was always the worst,
I should check it out sometime.
But like thin glass,
Water made a crispy sound of destruction.
Just before my sight became blurry –
And I might have heard a storm breaking
Or was it a wolf howling?
Whatever it is,
According to some cultures,
It’s called breaking down; shrieking; crying.
I call it water-glass shattering,
Imagine an invisible vase perhaps, full of water,
And the shock of it falling to pieces to the selfish ground,
Soaking up the water,
At least, my definition is more understandable,
Since glass can hurt you;
Make you bleed;
React accordingly to something physically broken.
So, tell me this,
Did you hear any water shattering?
Did you bleed?
Were you hurt?
Yes?
Then be careful, next time.
If you ever give next time a chance.