i’m still learning how to fix it by myself.

365-bleedingwords:

When you give me this silence,
I do not feel loved. I need you
to be gentle with me. I understand
that it is not always easy with
me - there are sleepless nights
and too many worries. But I love
you. I love you more than I’ve ever
loved anything and I am sending
that to you still, even while you
are so far away. Please, let that
be the thing that matters. 

It is so hard for me to give you 
what you need when it means 
that I have to sit and worry, 
sit and think, sit and miss you. 
I am still only learning and I 
need your love to help me and 
I cannot get that from you when 
you are so quiet. So far gone. 
I’m sorry we do not work the 
same way, I’m sorry sometimes 
it seems I do not work at all. 
Please, be gentle with me. Please, 
let me find you and bring you back. 
Please, let this work out.

i miss you.

365-bleedingwords:

You think if you finish that cup,
you will forget the picture in
your head of him leaving. That
you won’t see his hands on another
girl, his kissing her in three’s,
his not being with you. 

You think that if you have just
another shot or two or three or so
many you’ve lost count, you’ll forget
that it’s been too long since you’ve
spoken and that you are worried.
You are scared to death that he
is lying because no one has loved
you enough to tell you the truth. He
shouldn’t be the one you put this on. 

You need to trust yourself, trust that
the love in your heart is enough to
make someone stay, that he will be
smart enough to not be like the rest.
Remember the way he smiles when
he says he loves you, remember
how he spent an hour coming to you
just to spend the night, remember
how his arms hold you to sleep. 

Even if he did kiss another
girl, all she would taste was
your love. She would not be
able to ignore the sweetness
of your promises to him, I love
you’s at two in the morning, your
name in his mouth. He could be
the one to save you but darling,
you need to save yourself first.

the day after christmas.

365-bleedingwords:

I am losing you.

The thought comes to me at midnight,
sitting with a cup of tea, your silence
sitting next to me. Your empty
response stands in the doorway.

There could be someone else.

I can feel it in the way
you say you miss me, 11pm on Christmas Day,
saying little else…

what if

365-bleedingwords:

This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,
not waking up to you and lazy kisses
and pancakes on Saturday. And I am
so afraid of new love finding you
or finding me or life getting in the way
because 2000 miles is enough and I am
so sad at the thought because four years
is too long to feel this way but I feel you
entering my bloodstream and it is so
slow for me - my blood is slow - I have
learned to take it so slow but I love you
so much that I feel the stars underneath
my skin and I am bleeding milky ways
to get to you and I do not know what
to do or what this means but I am so
scared to lose everything when I am just
finally learning how to love.

look i wrote some words

incredible.

365-bleedingwords:

I don’t know if I loved you
but I do know that I can’t
write any more words because
they have all become tears
and if you knew that you were
the one making me want to be
covered in little white lines again,
maybe you would have picked me.

Pseudo comfort.: notes to my younger self.

365-bleedingwords:

seven years old:
That feeling you have when
you sleep with your arm around
Amanda - remember that.
Do not settle for less than that.

ten:
It isn’t normal to not be able
to sleep alone or without a TV
or without your blanket - but
that’s okay. Tell Mom.
She’ll love you anyways.

100.

365-bleedingwords:

Love does not end overnight
or in the time it took me to drive away.
It does not disappear over a hand gone too far
or because of words shared in a drunken disaster.
It ends when it does not see you,
when it hears of another,
when a touch feels cold on the skin,
when it was scared of your hand.
It ends when I can say
"I do not love you anymore,"
and that makes me ache.

Everything was rushed and hushed
and when I wanted you to dance in the rain
you pulled me out of the street.
I wanted to scream to the heavens
and you could barely whisper in my ear.
I wanted to show you to the world
and you couldn’t even see me in the daylight. 
You never held me through my tears
but smiled and told me “it happens.”
You never took the scissors away
but smiled and told me “you’re strong.”
You smiled and said you loved me
and that was all I ever got.


I knew you cared but never felt it,
I knew you loved me but never saw it -
I fear now that I never knew it at all.  
I fear I was holding onto the past
for fear of my future,
and I feared the future for what it held.
I will never be loved or cared for
or wanted with both the hands and the heart.
I will never experience
a piece of what I wanted you to give me - 
what I wanted to give you.

I took your words from the past
and made them our future -
you had never spoken about the days to come.
I took the promises you made and the silver on a string
and I hung them years ahead of themselves -
you never cared when that string broke.
I took the first touch and let myself believe
that it meant you would care forever.
Maybe you will care forever.
Maybe I held on to what I thought could grow
and left you to tend to the seed. 

I was cryptic in my thoughts
but your touch was never discovering.
My hear was a mess of jigsaw pieces
that you barely tried to put together.
Yet here you are at the end of the puzzle,
expecting someone to fill the void,
while I am the piece hiding under the carpet,
waiting for someone to pick me up.
I do not fit you; I do not fit anyone.

I am sorry for always expecting to fit you 
but I am sorry to myself for apologizing when I didn’t.
I am sorry for telling you I felt unloved,
but I am sorry to myself for taking so long to say it.
I am sorry for the pain this will cause you, 
but I am sorry to myself for the pain 
of not loving you anymore.

anon, i believe this is my favorite poem i have ever written! it was very hard to decide though :)

258.

365-bleedingwords:

I know that it is my fault
for my heart not hearing
his promise to stay, my
fault for already assuming
he has his feet ready to run.

But those promises have 
been as fleeting as those
who have made them
and it is not that I do 
not
want to believe this boy
with a stare that makes me
feel the stars I am made out
of - it is that I no longer know
how to believe in those who
make me feel alive because
they have all taken the
life right out of me.

Pseudo comfort.: notes on "i need you."

365-bleedingwords:

I.
I did not even understand
the phrase until I was sixteen
and had been crying for three
hours straight before I sought
my mother’s arms.

II.
I don’t remember the first person
I said it to, or any person I said it to,
but I know that I must have been crying.

III.
It took me until my…

243.

365-bleedingwords:

I have forgotten most
everything about you
and the way you used
to make me feel strongly
enough to leave a boy
who did nothing wrong.

Three years ago you
took my heart and my
very last scar but now
it’s two in the morning
and my only memory
is your breath on the
phone while I tried to
fall asleep and I still do
not miss you but I miss
the way you cared from
so many miles away.

i tried to write about that summer, but all that came out was “i love you.”

365-bleedingwords:

I was seventeen that summer
and I thought maybe you loved
me because even when my mom
was in the room, you made sure
our thighs touched on the couch.

I can’t find a part of that summer
without you in it. It was my best
time with my best friend and it
lasted all the way through ‘till April.

But then I stopped texting and you
stopped calling and now I can’t forget 
the sound in your voice when you
promised you’d stay and you don’t
care to remember a single part about me.

Pseudo comfort.: 235.

365-bleedingwords:

It’s midnight
and it’s pouring rain.

I’m trying to use
that as an excuse
for why I’m missing
you more than him
tonight (and every night).

But this is not
the same broken heart
I had the winter I had
turned sixteen - this
is four years of trust,
a year of kisses,
months of…

229.

365-bleedingwords:

I used to have dreams
of San Francisco and
how it made my heart
feel the way my hands
did when John kissed
me, with the winter nipping
at my nose and my soul.

I had 3000 miles of thoughts,
and every time someone
asked, I smiled the same
way my heart did when Kat,
silent on the phone, stayed
the night with me, just to
calm my breathing.

Now fate is dropping me
a little North of the bay,
to rain and casual love
and I am shaking like
my voice when I decided
to leave DJ alone with his
forceful love and steady hands.

Still, you are my West Coast
dream, and I feel unlike any
other time, when I realize
that happiness is not a kiss, 
is not a phone call, 
is not thousands of miles,
but is the time it takes to
get there, and so I keep
running back to you.

228.

365-bleedingwords:

I am trying to be okay
with the 3000 miles that
keep me from you, 
keep me from love, 
keep me from hearing
your heartbeat while
we are under the sheets.

But they are there -
just as much as you are
there - and just as much
as I am here, 
and for all
of these reasons I knew
it would be hard, and for
all of these reasons I
thought it might be easy -

but I forgot about the way
the stars came out when
you smiled and I forgot
about the way I could feel
every inch of my body when
you watched me laugh
and I forgot that other people
can see this too
- can feel this too.

If six months was nothing
than three should be
irrelevant but I feel it in
my core. You are already
bored of me and I am trying
to be okay with that.

idk man sometimes i’m sleep deprived and write things.

227.

365-bleedingwords:

i.
On that night, the stars
took over my insides
and made me remember
that the ghosts still exist
and were waiting for another
to haunt me again.
You sat wordless
but not loveless, kissing
me on the head when
I finally gasped for air
and saw the light.

ii.
I was terrified for months
but you stood by me
and held my hand
and swore to close
the door on the demons
who creeped inside.

iii.
The dishes are still
in the sink
and the drawing is still
on my wall
and your taste is still
in my mouth,
but now I’m alone
and now I’m wordless
and now the door
was left open
and you didn’t even
look back.