today my writing teacher said
you should write to somebody you love
so your writing comes out familiar
i almost laughed because
i’ve had enough familiarity to last me a lifetime
and i don’t want to write to you anymore

half the time i hate poetry
because it always comes out too honest but
not honest enough, not honest like
the way the words feel when i write them down,
the way the words feel when i drag them screaming
from my mouth

truth is
now i know what it feels like to be in your arms
i keep reaching out for them
only to find that you’re not here anymore
and my skin is still bruised where you kissed it
and my bed is still warm where you left it

and i hate the way you never leave doors open
and i hate the way i always search rooms for you
and i hate the way i can’t take the train
without reaching below the seats to check for old train tickets

and i want to rip my heart from my chest
because by this point it’s just baggage
and i want to forget the day i met you
and i hate the way you look at me
like you’re scared of the way you see yourself in me and

half the time i hate poetry
because it comes out honest but not
honest enough, because i’m here and you’re not,
because there is a word for this
and i don’t want it
i don’t want it

i don’t want to write to you anymore, php

you left and the electricity died. all the lights, all at once, bam. i called out the electrician but he couldn’t do a thing, said it was as if all the light had been sucked from the house, said maybe i should just leave the house and all its tangled wires behind. months later i taste the London air and think of you, the way you used to fill up spaces, and try to not imagine you there. i write it down and don’t call you.

when i see you again later, much later, you’re so drunk you can’t even stand and you tell me you love me. i leave and i take the wires, lock the doors; i write it down and try not to imagine you here and. i don’t call you. i don’t call you.

the electrician’s love story, p.h.p

This is a little prose piece I wrote called Sleepwalking. :)
(at most) I'm sleeping all these demons away (3862 words) by someonelsesheart [AO3]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

"I think we should start having sex," says Malia.

"What," says Kira.

"you taste like heaven
and feel like hell. my mother always said
that there is a secret
in the shadows of your eyes
that promises not to be told, that it will tear
us both apart.
our love story goes like this:
you call me at 3am and expect me to call back,
and i do, i do, i do and i hate myself for it.
you take my favourite shirt and pretend
you don’t fall asleep wearing it.
you kiss me with your eyes wide open
and love me with your mouth shut.
and i take it all. and i take it all.
our love story goes like this:
i will love you until you hate me.
and then i will love you still."
maybe she was right, php
"you should not be scared
of what breaks you.
it is the things that trip us
that remind us to keep getting up."
this is a reminder not a death sentence, php

i loved you the way you left me,

slowly then

all at once

(we were never meant to be anymore

than the things that broke us)

maybe they’ll talk about us some day,

the way we fell apart

maybe they’ll talk about how we loved each other so much

it killed us both

"1. I left my favorite pair of underwear at your house. I know your mother hates me, can I come pick them up?
2. It’s been almost a month and I still miss you like a fucking limb.
3. I didn’t know my bones could ache until I met you.
4. You know, a week before we broke up, do you remember? I had bought a book of poetry. You asked why I didn’t read something more interesting and I could feel my insides splinter.
5. You said poetry was all lies dressed up to sound pretty. When I look at you these days, I want to ask if sadness sounds pretty to you too.
6. It’s 3 a.m. and this alcohol tastes like you.
7. I saw you staring at me today during Lit class. I smiled at you and you didn’t smile back. I almost cried.
8. The girl who sits next to me smells like you.
9. I miss you.
10. I have never had so many bad nights.
11. Sometimes I write poetry about you on the internet. Strangers who have never met either of us think you’re cruel – they tell me if they had the honor of loving me, we’d have sex three times a day and they’d scream my name when they came.
12. They think it is beautiful, how I am broken. I don’t think they understand.
13. You used to tell me I was beautiful. I tried saying it in the mirror the other day, but it sounded wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.
14. Everything I say sounds wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.
15. We were never in love, but, oh God, we could have been.
"15 Texts I Almost Sent You" by d.a.s (via synthetic-synaesthesia)
10 things at seventeen.

I am not sure who I am.

I thought I knew. I don’t anymore.

Sometimes I feel so sad I wonder how other people can’t feel it, too,

and then I wonder if I’m sad or just angry

or if I’m not both.

The more I learn to like how I look

the more I hate who I am inside.

I have learnt that sometimes when people say they love you

they don’t mean it. Not every part of me is lovable,

but I try to believe that some parts are.

I keep my fingernails long as a replacement

that doesn’t really get the job done.

I believe in Prince Charming without

ever believing at all.

I have too many old train tickets. I never learnt

how to forgive.

I wish I did.

I wish I could.

I have made too many promises I never kept,

and I should tell more people I love them.

I should try not to be lying through my teeth

when I say it.

'getting better'

whatever they tell you

about getting better

is wrong

the truth is

'getting better'

is continuous

it’s something we work at everyday

a chance to redeem ourselves

to climb back up

after we’ve fallen down

just because you’re down

just because you fucked up

doesn’t mean there’s no ‘getting better’

because we get better every time we don’t give up

every hospital visit we don’t need

every time we decide to distract ourselves

instead of giving in

we get better by just carrying on

that’s what makes us strong

and that

is what makes it worth it


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