Why don't you open up your eyes? These are more than passing glances. Why don't you say what's on your mind? Cause I'm taking all the chances. If I'm not everything you want, if I'm not everything you need, then you can walk right out the door, and you can walk right out on me.
Because sometimes you have to step outside the person you've been and remember the person you were meant to be. The person you wanted to be. The person you are.
This is my face, I've got a thousand opinions and not the time to explain.
And this is my body, and no matter how you try and disable it, I'll still be here.
And, this is my mind and although you try to infringe you cannot confine.
And this is my brain and even if you try and hold me back, there's nothing that you can gain.
I feel like a flower without its ground nor water, dying with each second of the day without them. People who see this, look and then falter their eyes astray because pain is livid in my eyes and face and the circles that glow like hollow caves just above my cheeks. I rarely eat, I sleep until I cannot condone it any more and when I do, I dream of him. I dream of his hands covering my own and of his lips settling gently on my quivering mouth. I dream of his body in sync with my movements and our beings revolving like a planet and it’s moon. I am his moon, I am his moon and I am lost in some space that only the best of astronomers have discovered to be where only those most heart broken of souls reside, waiting for their planet to find them again.
I'm sorry I wasn't right for you. Just what did you expect for me to do? You know that I would have done anything for you.
It's no mystery; I obviously wish he'd just go before I break everything. He's always telling me that he's dying to know everything but he never really listens.
Your absence has gone through me, like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.
It's the way you thrill me, then pull away. The way you seem to kill me a little more each day. And it's what you're thinking, in your twisted mind, the way your body trembles, when its next to mine.
Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you never think about anything as much as I think about you.
Sometimes to do the things you love, you leave the ones you love behind.
Never forget what they did to you. And never let them know you remember.
Hey God, why are you doing this to me? Am I not living up to what I'm supposed to be? Why am I seething with this animosity? Hey God, I think you owe me a great big apology.
And just in case it matters, just in case you have been thinking about it all night and day, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being moody, I'm sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry for not ever telling you goodnight.
I'd rather a thousand wounds to the flesh. I'd rather be covered in stitches than one stab in the heart. Skin heals.Hearts harden.
Strong is fighting. It's hard and it's painful, and it's everyday. It's what we have to do, and we can do it together. But if you're too much of a coward for that, then burn. If I can't convince you that you belong in this world, then I don't know what can. But do not expect me to watch, and don't expect me to mourn for you.
You're not supposed to think about it. I think the whole trick is, not to think about it.
Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.
Do you know the most surprising thing about heartache? It doesn't actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart, or a head-on car wreck, it should. When someone you've promised to cherish forever says, "I never loved you," it should kill you instantly. You shouldn't have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn't know.
"If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them." "I’m not brave any more, darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me. I know it now." -A Farewell to Arms
And when we meet, which I’m sure we will, all that was there will be there still. I'll let it pass and hold my tongue and you will think that I’ve moved on.
"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said, "love is blind." Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course, love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert."
"Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everybody's sorry. But I can't do this anymore. I can't, and I won’t. I’m gone."
And I doubt you'll ever come back now from wherever it is you are because you never understood what I loved you for. There were so many talents you possessed that I willed myself to have, but the way your eyes would gloss over, well, I never envied that.
I'd be a better person on the other side, I'm sure. You'd find a way to help yourself and find another door to shrug off minor incidents and make us both feel proud. I just wish I could be there to see you through.
Give me a sign and let me know we're through, if you don't love me like I love you. But if you cry at night the way I do, I know that somebody's lying.
Maybe I didn't treat you quite as good as I should. Maybe I didn't love you quite as often as I could. Little things I should've said and done, I never took the time. You were always on my mind.
I am thinking and planning, the letdown, the chagrin. It can go something like this, "I've moved on, its hopeless".So let’s not waste time on this conversation.
“You make it really hard to love you sometimes,” he spat, “You know that?” And I sat there. You would have thought I’d feel brittle. But I didn’t. I felt nothing really, just the sense that now the circle I’d always kept small was even smaller.
I should tear your eyes out right now, but how would you ever be able to look at yourself in the morning?
I am utterly disgusted with the path you trek, as inebriated as you can get off your latest paycheck. I am at a loss of words here. I hate to break this to you, but being a coward is not a legitimate career.
You laughed off my affections while I passed by your direction. I should have known from your walk it was the last time I'd see you.
You'll get what you deserve for fucking with me. You're not the first, you won't be the last. Your days are numbered so make them last.
Some things never get better, none of us know why we love. Or why we stop loving. Or why everyone we love, we lose.
I'd serve you drugs on a silver plate, if I thought it would help you get away. I hope that you would do this for me.
Welcome to the end of everything that you took for granted. It's your last day on easy street. Time to prop your fuckin eyes open and stare into the mirror. That's you and this is it.
Do you know how, when you are on the verge of a breakdown, the world pounds in your ears, a rush of blood, of consequence? Do you know how it feels when the truth cuts your tongue to ribbons and you still have to speak it?
Let’s face it: I’m scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess I’m afraid for myself…the old primitive urge for survival. It’s getting so I live every moment with terrible intensity. It all flowed over me with a screaming ache of pain…remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted. When you feel that this may be good-bye, the last time, it hits you harder.
Misplaced by closeness, thoughts of friendship fail to state the thoughts I have of us. You know you said that I'm beautiful, but what's beauty to you anyway? You wrote to me, said you missed me but is that really the best that you can do?
Don't want illusion or a power glory ride. Doesn't run with the neighborhood shadows on a death trip body slide. He won't give up, and he won't give in, and he won't let up until he gets inside your pretty skin.
“You’re still pretty unhappy, aren’t you?” he asked. I nodded, staring ahead.
“Did you ever think that maybe you’re better off?”
I believed the reason there was a God was to prevent such atrocities from happening to the same person twice. But nothing prepared me for this: I have done what I've sworn I could never do; I have become my own nightmare...I have lost control.
Maybe there is something you're afraid to say, or someone you're afraid to love, or somewhere you're afraid to go. It's gonna hurt. It's gonna hurt because it matters.
And if we forgive life for not being what we told it to be, or expected, or wished, or longed for it to be. If we forgive ourselves for not being what we might have been also. Then we can be what we are, which is boundless.
There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.
So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from here. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.
Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars. The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope.
