The Writer

"People can lose their lives in libraries. They ought to be warned."

People don’t seem to understand that the longer you live with your problems, the better you become at hiding them.

Jillian Drew

Divided.

You come back again and again. Truly you are a force to be reckoned with. But I rid myself of you before and I can do it again… But do I want to?

My mind empties yet my heart constricts, and I simply don’t know what to think. Why won’t you leave me alone, to move on?

I’ve met someone. We talk often and laugh together. We’ve created a perfect world, our world. But you linger in the shadows, shooting me looks of contempt. I cannot let you rot there, but I cannot let you kill the new aspects of my life.

So yet again, I am torn. Ripped, shredded, divided. A weak, thin piece of paper, yours to fold, bend, and cut.

I hate it. Despise it. I don’t want it at all, but I let it happen. Is this truly better than nothing at all?

Today, two families will become one. Please pick a seat, not a side.

Burning Photographs.

It’s not easy, looking back into the past. I take photos to remember the good times, but all I can think of are the bad ones. I see your face and everything comes flooding back. I think of the promises we’ve made and the pain we’ve shared… And above all, I think of how much I’ve apologized for the petty things I never did. Your eyes speak words that are not true and living beneath you is all I know. I thank a higher power that we live far apart. Otherwise, seeing you on the street would make my heart ache even more. I love you, and I hate you. I do not understand it. One can only hope the feelings fade after awhile. In the mean time, I’ll be burning your photographs, and wishing the ashes to drift away.

I deserve somebody who gives a shit.

Where is your hope now?

Hours pass, and I’ve done absolutely nothing. Minutes are agonizing and as exhaustion takes over, so does guilt. My relief will not arrive, no matter how many promises I make. No matter how many times I break them… Each and every one of them. I sit here and forget to breathe. But when I remember how to take in oxygen once more, I regret the knowledge. Part of me wishes to stop breathing all together. Another part of me just wants to dream and sleep… But I can do neither. So I just sit here and forget to breathe.

My pain runs far deeper than anyone suspects.

Brilliant.

Brilliant.

(Source: sheandherdarkness, via tasteofhiddles)

Starting Over.

Alright, change in tactics. This isn’t going to be a place of whining for me. I must write. For all of you!

However, there is one thing I should mention…. You steal, you die. Copyrights and all.

Enjoy your day.

Be the change that you wish to see in the world.

Gandhi