Posts Tagged ‘sad’

A different timeline

Saturday, September 23rd, 2017

“The problem is we’re human. We want more than just to survive. We want love.” – Meredith Grey


  1. My words ricochet between the walls until they make them crumble down and someone hears me. (Remember everything. Remember (me).)
  2. I have an alibi for the night you almost chocked on stardust: I was at the sea, drowning empty dreams.
  3. There are hidden moons and farewells under my eyes. Rose petals stitched on bleeding wrists. Tachycardia and rainstorms. And I’m only a girl. Soft sometimes, but always, filled with a downpour of dreams that they cannot stain.
  4. It’s easier to just lie. (I never cared. You are only a stranger.)
  5. Do you see me now? The rivers are thawing, and you should know, you occupy the silence between each of my words.
  6. Your kisses act as a paralytic. A tightness in my chest. A prediction of a collision.
  7. A sky disguised as a raging ocean filled with uncertainty. (It’s ok, it’s ok – we’ll be ok.)
    We’ll carry each other if we have to. (Just reach and I’ll catch you.)
  8. I promise.

The fights you cannot see

Tuesday, September 19th, 2017

“A cache of courage to brace against the blinding pain
Each one of us fights battles no one else can see
Some days just waking up is an act of bravery”
– Bravery, Assemblage 23


They brought her flowers in the hospital. But she couldn’t see. Drenched in shadows and silence and pain. That never-ending pain. Take your pills, young girl, they say. Take your pills and maybe you’ll be alive tomorrow. Don’t give up, they say. But (truth is) they never stay. And the flowers wither; the days pass and those white walls get greyer as does the sky outside.
{They bring us flowers, but they never stand with us. They never fight. They never understand.
And it’s killing us to try. But we do it everyday.}