Posts tagged Quotes.
I was 19 when I finally stopped opening the door for unrequited love.
I was 20 when I first learned that
courage tasted like bitter wine and metal. Like blood and honey.
When I told you I loved you,
I screamed it. I let it rip
it’s way out of my throat, and
it felt so good that I cried.
The other day, you walked by me
with your friends and I could feel the pity in your stare.
Don’t you do that.
Don’t you look at what I had for you and call it weak.
Not when you were the one
afraid of it.
I stood there with my hands open,
my mouth bruised tender with supplication.
Don’t you dare treat me like a victim
of my own emotions, like being
moved to my knees by love
was a mistake that I regret.
I will go to my grave with the memory
of the bravery in my bones.
I am not ashamed of any of it.
Not the closed door in my face
or the static silence of my phone
for weeks after.
I was not afraid.
I am still not afraid.
I will never be afraid again.
Bring in the beasts with teeth
like tree branches.
Bring in all the men who will never love me.
Bring in the monsters with
faces carved out of stone.
I am not afraid.
They can eat me alive.
I am not afraid.
I will cut my way out of their bellies.
I am not afraid.
Hi. I miss you, a little. No, actually I kind of miss you more than I intended to. I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe you are missing me too. I don’t know what’s going on between us and I don’t know what you are thinking. I wish I did. It would make things a little easier for me. I would know whether to stay or to leave. Because I know it’s my place to go but I still hope you’ll ask me to stay. I’m not sure if this is considered a fall out but this silence is killing me. And what’s worse is not knowing why we stopped speaking in the first place.
Remember when I told you I wasn’t very good with words, especially in real life? Like I didn’t know how to express myself to you because it was just all kinds of nerve wrecking to me. So I thought if I write a letter, it’d be better because at least then, I can get some things off my chest regardless if you read it or not. A part of me hopes you’ll read this, a part of me hopes you won’t.
I’ve been spending all of last week wondering what made you stop talking to me. Like, was it something I said or something I did? Or was it just because you are no longer interested? I know feelings change, I get it; but don’t you think it’s only fair that you’d let me know you didn’t want to see me anymore? I’ve been lying in bed every night, wondering what the hell changed and I can’t seem to figure it out. I have come up with so many theories and excuses but I just can’t find the one that seems to justify my quench of curiosity.
I cried one night, or two but I don’t want to tell you the details in this letter. Because I’m not sure you deserve to know.
It literally kills me that I feel this way because I never meant to like you this much in the first place, and I never thought that you would just cut me off either. I don’t know what hurts more, not knowing or you leaving. I am just confused as to, why all of a sudden? I keep asking myself the same questions, over and over again and all I can do is replay scenarios in my head and trying to pick up if something had gone wrong. Maybe this is all in my head, but you cannot deny that something has definitely changed in the atmosphere.
You say you’re busy with school and work, and I get it. I really do. But how can someone be that busy to not even try? I’ve had my fair share of hearing excuses and I know one when I hear one. Being busy is what people tell other people when they are over them, when they no longer want to see them. So I get it. I know what you are trying to say. yet, there’s a teeny tiny part of me that hopes I’m wrong. Maybe I’m wrong and you really don’t mean it that way. Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe I am just going insane. Just maybe, I am wrong.
But today I saw you. And I’m pretty sure you saw me too. And I was hoping maybe you’d stop me and say “Hi, I’ve missed you” or even, “Hello, how are you?” but you didn’t. You never even said “hey.” We just walked past each other. That really hurt. I literally felt the atoms in my body close up and my heart, physically ached. My best friend asked if you texted me after and I told her I didn’t check my phone but probably not. I didn’t check my phone because I didn’t want to know. I was trying to give you some time to make a decision. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe you would have texted because you still cared. But you didn’t, and that hurt even more. Are we not going to even say hello anymore? That’s almost like murder.
I told my friends that I was out of tears. I lied.
I’ve been thinking about this so much and there is so much on my mind that I don’t even remember all that I want to say anymore. There is so much I want to say in this letter, but I can’t write it all. And this letter has become so disorganized, but that’s okay because that’s how my mind is right now. It’s a jumble of thoughts. A web of questions. I have become so distracted and vulnerable, I can’t even focus on my homework. I would lay down in bed at 12 am and not fall asleep till 3 or 4 in the morning. You asked me if I stayed up so late thinking about you, I lied and said no but the honest answer is oh God, yes. I cannot sleep because the questions haunt me. My eyelids feel heavy and I am physically tired but my brain just won’t stop going. It just keeps running and I am so sick and restless.
Explanation. Closure. Will you ever give me one? If you don’t like me anymore, just tell me. If you have found someone else, just tell me. If you think I’m not good enough, just tell me. But you can’t hold my hands and kiss me and tell me you like me and then leave me there hanging onto nothing. You left me in the state of limbo, but I cannot figure out everything by myself. Were we nothing? I mean, if we were nothing then just tell me. I can take the truth. I hate not knowing. But don’t fool me into thinking that we had something going on, just to cut me off. I told you about my past, but you made sure to repeat it. And that is not fair.
I opened up to you. How can you make me open up to you and then leave? I think back on all the things that you said. So were any of it true, or were they just lies? Sweet talking, that was your best trait and I hated it at first but it grew on me but now, I am upset at myself for believing you. I think back on all the compliments you gave, apparently they weren’t real. I just don’t get why you had to choose me of all people. There are so many other girls out there, if you wanted to play games you could have picked someone else. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t agree to participate. I did not sign up to get injured. But that’s how it always is right?
I am mad. And I am sad. And then I am furious. And then I am hurt.
I’ve been hurting a lot recently, not that you care but I thought I’d let you know.
You really, really, hurt me.
You are a sentence
and I am a semicolon
begging you to go on.
How fascinating it is that there are millions of people all over the world who are wide awake at 4 am missing someone. And there are millions of people sound asleep at 4 am, with no idea that they’re being missed.
I no longer ache for you.
I’ve stopped trying to find
you in others. There’s no
point. No one will ever come
in comparison to who you
used to be. I’ve been able to
picture the rest of my life
a lot more clearly, and I’m
proud to say that you are
nowhere to be found
when I am gazing into
my future. I’ve made mends
with the person you used
to be. Said goodbye to the
parts of you that you
wished away. The parts that I
fell in love with in the
first place. There is no use
in trying to talk me out of this.
Because I will already
be gone by the end
of this confessional poem.
I don’t remember the sound of your voice or the smell of your cologne, I don’t remember the way you laugh or the way you smile, I don’t remember any of the things you said to me, & to be honest, I don’t remember how I felt whenever I fell for you, but after everything, I do remember how I felt whenever you left.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I am kind to everyone, but when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me.
The woman who doesn’t need validation from anyone is the most feared individual on the planet.
this just broke my heart
I loved you more than you deserved, fucker.
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.
Tonight I listened to a voicemail you left me three months ago.
In it, you told me to go fuck myself.
I still remember that night.
I still remember those words rolling off your tongue so gracefully.
I remember wondering how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.
Two months ago I called you at three A.M.
I expected you to ignore it, or to send me to voicemail;
those were two of the things you were best at.
You answered and I felt my heart begin to race;
you probably thought it was because I missed you,
but truthfully it was because I didn’t expect you to answer,
and because I really had to pee.
I asked you how you were and you sat there quietly and confused.
It was like you forgot that I existed and that I was once a part of your life.
You told me “fine” and I smiled.
That was the last conversation we had.
I made sure to let go of you, and every negative word that was said, in a peaceful way.
Fast forward two months, and I still wonder how you are.
I still wonder how your dog is and if you’ve seen any good movies lately.
If you ever heard me say this, you’d probably blush like you used to whenever I said something sweet.
You’d probably think I think these things because I still love you, that I still want you.
But that is not the case.
You see, six months ago I was jumping through hoops to please you.
To make sure that you were happy before myself.
To make sure that I was the one causing your happiness.
But it is not six months ago.
It is now.
And now I simply remember you as a person I gave my soul to.
A person I told secrets to at 4am and fucked to feel a sense of closeness.
A person I loved, yes.
But it is not six months ago.
It is now, and now I miss you.
I miss the way you called randomly just to ask how my day was.
I miss the way you seemed to care, even if you didn’t.
I miss the friendship and the secrets and the stories.
And maybe one day things will be different.
Maybe you’ll call me on a Tuesday afternoon and ask how my day was.
These are the things I think about before my eyes slowly close and I am finally rewarded with sleep.
But for right now?
Go fuck yourself.
I no longer remember the curve of your spine, or the pattern of your freckles. I spent days laying in bed memorizing you, and now I can’t even remember the sound of your heart against mine.
today my professor told me
every cell in our entire body
is destroyed and replaced
every seven years.
how comforting it is to know
one day i will have a body
you will have never touched.