Some Nights May Seem Hard To Get Through, But Throughout The Mist, When The Fog Feels Like It’s Suffocating

saving 18.

It’s the year 2030, 23:55pm October 17th. I’m 25 as sit by the window in my studio apartment that is hidden away by the blinding lights and skyscraper buildings in New York City. The sky is dark, the stars are visible, and the moon is a perfect crescent shape. My window glass in covered in small raindrops and for once, the loudest city has become nothing more than a hum.

The washing machine is running and the flowers I bought from Lucies flower shop two days ago have died.

The hot chocolate I made is resting just near my foot, the microwave broke a week ago, so I had no choice but to use boiling kettle water.

Delilah my tabby cat who I self-adopted on 8th street two years ago when I first moved to the city sits right in front of me. Admiring the city, I grew up loving so much.

The clock, which seems to be the only working thing in this apartment, hangs low not in the centre and too far to the left side, on the wall near my front door now reads 23:58pm.

A sigh leaves my lips. 120 seconds and you’re turning 24 somewhere.

Slowly I remove myself from the windowsill and tiptoe over to the kitchen, floorboards creaking under my steps. Opening the fridge to the cupcakes I bought three days ago in Mary’s bakery just right of Cornelia Street, I set them down on the kitchen counter. Admiring the chocolate goodness that sits before. The ones I’ve stopped myself from messaging and telling you about. You always loved my chocolate cupcakes when I made them, would you believe me if I told you I found ones better? Opening the draw, I pull out a pack of candles, the perfect shade of light ocean blue. Just like your eyes. Picking up the lighter also alongside of them. It’s been eight years, and still, I love you no less.

Placing the candle, on top of one of the cupcakes, I light it. The clock now reads 23:59pm. One minute my love, I whisper to myself.

00:00am. Taking the cupcake in my hand I tiptoe back over to the windowsill.

“Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re in love with. I hope you’re happy and I hope you’re safe. Happy 24th birthday.”

Blowing out the candle with a shaky breath, I felt a tear prickle and slide down my face.

I hope he knows that it’s him I love most. That from now, in every life, I’ll search for him. It always has and always will be him.

gonna have to prepare myself for the "we all owe taylor an apology" when reputation tv comes out and people finally listen and understand the album..like no..I don't owe taylor an apology, YOU do x

sometimes the people we want forever aren’t always the people that want us forever, and that’s okay.

how the imagination is thick inside my head

you on top,

me underneath,

crumbling by just sound of your voice.

moaning by the touch of your fingers, and oh, how you move them just right.

tonight with you, I meet heaven for the very first time.

#poem #writer

I knew a girl once.

who was so in love with this one boy.

that when the world turned upside down and burnt inside out.

God seeked her out. He knelt to her and asked.

“Tell me my child, one choice only. who do I save? you or him? him or everyone else?

with no hesitation the girl screamed on her own last breath “HIM. SAVE HIM”

she’s a very different girl now to who I once knew.

I pray one day she understands why God chose to save her instead.

Maybe the right kind of love isn’t the one that burns like a 100 acre forest fire. Maybe it burns more like a quiet candle on a cold night, when all the electricity in the house has gone out.

Sometimes I cry because of happiness, there’s rare moments in my life where melancholy isn’t the reason for the waterfalls that are pouring from my eyes. Sometimes happiness gets to the best of me, it swims around inside my body. I’ll see too people in love, or a person achieve something they pushed themselves above the bar for, and if will make my heart swell. Happiness is beautiful.

The raging impulse that love gives us. The thump and creeks of the hallway floor as I ran after you. The drum of my heart had never been so loud.

I stood in front of you, pleading for your love. “You’re hurting me, but still I want your love”. There is no “I love you” better than the way you say it.

If having you meant to be hurt then so be it. Destroy me, burn me to ground and forget about my ashes, love me but love twenty other people at the same time…at least you’re still loving me, right?

I love you, but you don’t love me and I don’t know how to cope. So I’ll bleed a thousand words until love doesn’t feel like choking anymore.

maybe it was the fact that nobody has ever made me laugh that much, or maybe it was the way I was cold and you gave me your coat and scarf, sacrificed yourself to the cold just to make sure I was closer to the sun. maybe it was the way you touched me and it felt like a magnetic force, maybe it was the way my safety was a priority to you, “please be careful on your walk home”, “call me as soon as you reach the door”, “be careful on the train, call me so I know you’re safe”. Maybe it was the way you healed every other heart ache. How you told me you were lucky that I was here. How I was so sure it was me and you forever. Maybe it was the way I forgot this was teen romance. And Maybe it was the way I forgot that any teen romance hardly ever makes it out alive. Or maybe it was the way you would say forever, and that whisper at night would be the lullaby that sent me to sleep. it’s more of a scream now. It used to make me feel so safe, so warm. Now it’s an ache in my stomach to hear, a catch in my throat that stops my breath. Maybe it was everything that turned into nothing. maybe I’ll never know. Maybe these words and these poems just have to be enough for now. Maybe it’s time to let go and say goodbye. But maybe I don’t want to.