happy new year!

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may 2010 bring you all you wish for and more!!!

♥

you're in my head

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i would rather be alone

roc21

This was written a year ago, but I still fight with myself: Love, or no love? Destroy myself, or fix it?

I have never known love.
I have never been held by somebody who said
“We fit together”.
There has never been another
And that is fine.
I can’t live up to someone’s standards
And I can’t give more than I can take
Of my heart to only one.
There isn’t a part of me
That I can let ache
Because I need him by me.
It means I'm not sure I can be faithful.
I can’t give up drinking, and messing myself up,
Until I am tangled and bent.
It is my art, and it is an instinct
To remain convoluted and tormented.
It’s not a burden I can lay on someone without guilt.
Everyone is shallow to some extent,
And unless he is beautiful superficially,
I won’t be able to step out holding his hand.
Walk, head held high,
Telling the crowd that yes, he is mine
And I am his.
There are parts of me I love,
Slender ankles, fragile eyes,
But too many that I hate.
So it is impossible to believe someone
Who tells me that I am deadly
Beautiful,
Until those parts are blotted out, fixed.
I will continue to deal with anorexia and depression,
States that will always threaten to asphyxiate me
And I understand these are things that most people can’t understand.
This sort of continual struggle
Which I let creep beneath my thoughts
Every single fucking day.
Parts of me that are locked away,
Quietly pushed to the furthest corners
Under the bed
Shamefully.
There are dreams of coffee in the morning,
Cigarettes after sex,
Fingers down my back,
And falling asleep on his lap.
But I am unsure of what to say, and how to act
So he won’t feel oppressed or worse
Unloved.
I swing between extremes,
And there is no in between.
I live explosively, and that’s not something
Easily accepted.
Terrified of all these rules and warnings
And reining back,
I would rather be alone.

-i'd like to remain anonymous.

eaten alive by it

just bears + adorechic

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it's difficult to love yourself.

thanks lizzie!

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ac milan

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i dream of you sometimes…

kenichihoshine

I dream of you sometimes
Yearning for your image to exist outside my mind
Hoping that it will only be a matter of time
Before we meet and allow our eyes to speak
Knowing more then what our eyes can see
Patiently waiting to begin our destiny
This is where my soul will lead
Letting go of the thoughts of your physique
So that I can see through
Wanting to explore
Deep into the truth
Knowing that you are because he already knew
That I was the rib to fit inside of you
No other will ever do
See we never had to choose
He never asked us to
He just wanted us to trust and believe
That I'm for you and you're for me
I'm just waiting for this to be
A sudden sigh
As I drift off to sleep
Dwelling in my unconscious mind
I dream of you sometimes…

-kendall

i dreamed about her all night.

ffffound

i met her in a kitchen, she was visiting a friend of mine. my sunny california.
they had been friends since they were 6 and were both far from home. i often think about destiny, if it even matters.
things that happens happens, we meet the people we meet.
and i met her that evening.

a few hours later we were getting ready for a night out on the town. we were almost 10 people who were going out and she was one of them.

there were no delayed glances, no glitter or fireworks. i dont know if i even looked at her during the evening.
we took the train to town and she ended up sitting next to me.
' i heard you just broke up with your girlfriend, so you are into girls? ' she asked.
i nervously started to separate my curls with my fingers.
she held my arm when we were walking to the club, danced beside me, sat beside me on the way home.
i didn't really think of it so much.

03.00 in the morning. I hear her steps in the corridor, she just wanted to say good night. her smile lights up the corridor.

12.00, she knocks on the door. wants me to join for breakfast.
she eats noodles in a cup and it makes me laugh, she wears knitted clothes and curls up in the sofa. she listens and answers, i smile and laugh.
her eyes is like burned almond, her skin is like whipped cream. when she speaks it's like vanilla for my ears, strawberries for my tongue.
i dreamed about her all night.

16.30 the day after she takes the flight back to manchester. we didn't even say goodbye.
' that just means that you have to visit me in california soon ' she says.
i set my clock to london-time and wonders if this is how it should feel.

-k

trapped inside my brain

weheartit

I have never tasted love.

I have never been blessed with the true feeling of love. I've always felt like an outcast in that way. Placed beside the world of loving individuals. Like it's not meant for me. You see, I'm a dreamer. And in my dreams I'm head over hills in love and it's mutual. Unfortunately, this makes me an observer. I observe everything and everyone around me, and the importance of my own actions fails. It's like I'm trapped inside my brain and completely unable to... do life. I think I'm in love with the thought of being in love, how cliché it may sound. And I don't want to wait forever. Maybe I'm just gonna have to accept it. Maybe there is this insignificant number of all the billion people on earth, who just aren't supposed to fall in love...

/L

♥ puppy

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but you always wake up.

coupdegrace

On the morning I woke up and didn't crumble back into my bed, consumed with the overwhelming need to cry until I fell back asleep, I flirted with the idea that maybe I had gotten over him. That there was a small chance I had concluded one phase of grieving and moved on to the next; a more subtle type of pain that was numbing in his absence.

When he stopped showing up in my dreams, relief that I was no longer plagued by him and sadness that he was gone filled my heart and took up residence as a pseudo replacement - if he couldn't be around then at least I had this fabricated dichotomy to placate me.

A week before his car collided head on with a truck, a message was sent to him in sarcasm, masking (displaying) hurt and annoyance at his slacking communication. A week plus one day later, when I received the phone call, the only regret I can lay claim to in life was sending that message. Famous last words.

Of course, in death - as he always did in life, in the life I knew of him as my friend - he appeared again in sleep. This time reassuring me that everything was okay. In another, I received the same call - he had died all over again, and the hysteria seeped back in.

In the best one, he was standing in front of me - stunned and unbelieving of what I was seeing - that same disarming grin worn proudly on his face; look at me, I'm alive. And he was.

But you always wake up.

-S

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