hollywoodheartts

the dark chocolate kind of darkness flooded your room that night. warm smooth it slid your eyes shut as your thoughts lifted you up and your dreams chained you down. you couldn't see my arms holding you tight. be still. the marshmallow kind of silence enveloped your room that night. soft sticky it tickled your skin slid across your lips stole your breath. you couldn't hear my whispers flit across your skin. hush.

he was tired.       emotionally.         physically. he was tired.             tired of her. he was tired of the way she acted around him, he was tired of the way she looked at him, he was tired of the way she talked to him. there was nothing he wanted more than to get as far away as possible from her. he wanted to scream. but he couldn't leave her. she pulled him in and she was his lifeline, and he was so                   so                   so far in that he couldn'tbreathewithouther. no matter how she treated him, he wanted to get closer,                      and closer,                      and closer, until s

i'm             less than poetic.           less than perfect.             less than whole. but more than a nightmare. i'm                               real.

what's left besides you and me? everything and nothing is in between for i am lost in the madness but i trust that you will find me in this crowd in this ocean in this world full of burdens. and i will you to withdraw and prove me wrong. you are nothing but what i believe you to be. are you there?

sometimes i think i am a thief, (i before e except after c; but spelling back then was overly simplified), and when i write, i slip in words from the music i listen to and feel just a little guilty and wish i could write things all my own just one damn time. sometimes i think i am a traveler of the world, and when i read, i can feel my plane nosediving in and we will land and i will get pulled in and do things i've never done and feel things i've never felt and hear things i've never heard before and i will be amazed and never want to leave but then i do and everyday i will wish to go back. sometimes i think i am a poet, (and a real one, no

Winter is something akin to the season of love. Covered in dirty snow (nothing like dirty blonde hair), masked in purity, hiding something wretched, evil, dead. The cold like pain that pierces your heart and makes you shudder and gasp (oh, the horror). And every year, you fall in (sososo very deep) and every year, you go farther and see more of the dirt and the raw roots hiding under the quiet beauty of snow and before you know it you're six feet under and surrounded by people who have lost what you're still looking for, and every year, you find it harder to dig your fingernails into the dirt and pull yourself (and the

There was always something about him. Something special in the worst way. Something that broke her heart every time she looked at him. Maybe it was his sad smile. Maybe it was his empty eyes, completely devoid of emotion. Maybe it was the dark shadows under his eyes. Or maybe it was because every time she looked at him, she saw a mirror of herself. Someone just as broken as herself, someone who simply went through the same motions everyday and felt as if they had nothing to live for, someone who had gone through so much to get so little. She was captivated by him. She felt like she knew so much about him despite the fact that all she'd ever d

never self-destruct: awful things are survivable. we are            indestructible. we are            in v i n   c ible. never be hopeless never be broken. we are        in v i n   c ible. we are. cannot be born. cannot die, cannot begin, cannot end, cannot fail. She forgives me. I     forgive  her.

It wasn't easy for her. The way he was always touching her, the smile he always and only smiled for her, the countless times she caught him turning around to look at her. It just wasn't easy. Sometimes they talked and talked. And sometimes there was nothing that they could possibly converse about. Sometimes the distance between them was roughly equivalent to the distance between the sun and Pluto. And sometimes they were thisclose. Sometimes he ignored her for days at a time. And sometimes he wouldn't leave her alone. It was never easy. But she did it anyway. Somewhere in between her constant fluctuation between her wants and reality, sh

Trying to return unwanted gifts, specifically this thing called 'Life'. But only because I'd received two of them prior to now. The first I hadn't touched since I'd started college. [Now that I think about it, that had only been a month ago.] The second? I never even opened that box. On the front it proudly proclaimed: 'Without It, You'd Die!' I'm pretty sure it was regifted, if the tag that stated 'Happy 50th, you old Hag. I hope you rot in hell.' was any indication. [I wondered why 'Hag' was capitalized.] The most tiring part? The customer service lady. If anyone deserved the capitalized 'H' in 'old Hag', it was her. "Sorr