Day 16

of promises

and how i break them

there was my mother

i promised to never let her cry

the first one i broke

there were my friends

ones i promised to stay with forever

i broke them anyway

there were my words

all the 'iloveyou's and 'imissyou's and 'i'mtrying's

i promised to say them

only when i meant them

i broke those too

there were my tears

i promised to shed them only on those

who deserved them

well, when have i ever kept my promises?

then there was you

asking me to promise

and i'm gonna break this too

i promise anyway

there's no evidence that growth is painful.

then how do you explain the ache in my chest. how do you explain this constant urge to carve out my heart and leave it in a dark room, away from all eyes, in a place it can't be touched.

Your eyes are so lively that they dance like humans underneath the starry sky.

- does this even make sense (via sunhsetful)

Not everything beautiful needs to make sense

what do i do with all this untouched grief. it grows stale in my mouth.

what do i do with all this unpromised love. no one told me how to hold it without bruising.

'i would like to step out of my heart

and go walking beneath the enormous sky

i would like to pray'

i have been strangers with my words for a while now. my words, the ones that helped me let go of my pain, helped me breathe. but some things you can't let go of. you can only bury them so deep in that you won't ever have to think about them again.

some days, i think i would be alright if everyone i've ever loved, ever held close to my heart would leave me. i tell myself it wouldn't hurt. that it would be for the best. some days, i forget how my heart feels everything too much, how it can't help but hurt.

i look back at the past few months and i try to detach myself from the pain, the grief. i would go for days and weeks without thinking about it, without shedding a tear. until one day, a random thought, a reminder, a realization. they're gone. and it would hit all over again. a blinding pain that leaves me gasping for breath.

when i was a child, i would pray to god to take my pain away. it didn't make sense for me to have to feel all that. god never did, and i am no longer a child. i haven't prayed in a very long time, it makes me angry.

when grief comes knocking at my door, i turn the volume up and pretend i don't hear. i pretend it's fine until the walls start to crumble around me and grief barges in through the broken door. it holds my face in it's hands, looks into the eyes that refuse to shed it's tears and tells me, "it won't be the end of the world if you feel"

maybe not the world, but it would be my end. for how will i ever stop, once i start?

idek these days. are these happy? or are these sad? ig these are the middle days... the normal days that normal people have, when they follow their schedules and do normal people things. but like, who even are these nornal people? who here does not have something hurting them at any given point in time? who here does not get days and weeks and months when they just... can't. i can't believe that exists at all. but maybe it does, who am i to judge. maybe i would like to be there someday. someday...

day 11

8:51 p. m.

i feel like i'm losing track of days. like i'm in a perpetual haze. like my body exists out of my self. like i am but a spectator in my own days. i wake up and i make my coffee. i drink it and i read. i work out and do chores. i write too. but my mind is... somewhere else. i run my fingers through my hair, unaware of both hand and hair. i place the leaf in chapter twenty-nine, not knowing what's in there. nothing feels real. no, not nothing. this pain feels real. too real. this heart that beats too fast feels real. this mind, though lost, still exists. i think therefore, i am. i must be. or i must not.

it's been a while since you left

well, two months, five days, seven hours and thirty-five minutes to be exact

it takes one minute for your heart to stop beating in the absence of oxygen

another six for all you cells to degenerate

after that, even your brain gives up on you

and you die

i don't know what my brain is waiting for

'you suffocate me', your note said

'i'm suffocating here', i wanted to tell you

but you never stayed long enough

now i don't know how to tell you this

but for the past six months, you've been my only reason to smile

and this might seem like poetry to you

but i'm not feeling beautiful

if you look into that gratitude jar

you'll find it full of your name

so i'm sorry if my love suffocated you

but please come back

i need to breath now

so many homes, so many goodbyes. where do i stay. where do i leave. i leave and i long. i run away until the road ends and then some more. too long, too far. i never want to leave anywhere. and then, everywhere. but is it really a tragedy, to have so much to love. so much to lose.

and i'd really, really like to believe that there's someone out there reading all this. reading this and rooting for me to make it through this. because if not, then what am i even doing here?