My Sunflower
my sunflower
i looked at you through the cracked screen of my phone. through the cracked and pixelted, you were beautiful: an angel, in my eyes.
you lauged lightly, a mellifluous sound, as i made a joke about one of your multiple ex-girlfriends.
you continued to blab about your current "love inerest" that would probably end within the span of 3-10
crack
the sound of my fragile heart tearing echoed in my ears and inreased slightly more with each word you uttered. it would never be fully-broken, never be fully-healed
always continuing the slow, agonizingly painful, ceaseless torture - like the nightmare that re-occurs every night: you're there, i'm running and running, sweat dripping, thighs burning, flushed face, but i can't seem to move an inch can't seem to get my feet off the ground.
i keep the smiling demeanor on for you.
so i don't worry you
so you're not confused,
so you'll continue to talk to me without any hesitations,
so you won't bother asking why i'm hurting so much inside,
it's all for you
i listen as you talk about her, not realizing that you are chipping pieces off of me second by second, like i'm merely a clay piece for you to play with and abandon once you're done, yet you keep coming back for more, you can't seem to let go.
my smile falters once you end the call saying that your mom called you - probably to set the table or something.
a deep sigh escapes my mouth and the corners of my mouth turn down into a frown.
sluggishly crossing the room, i grab the hoodie; your hoodie, merely a piece of fabric, yet it means so much more to me than you could possibly imagine.
after being repeately washed, it still had that faint smell: you - you, you , and nothing but you.
i slipped the sweater over my head and through my arms - the hoodie fell to about my mid-thigh.
the aroma filled up my senses completely, i felt drunk on you, intoxicated with just the mere scent of you.
i craved for you to be near me, to hold me, to talk about me like you actually want me, and need me - like i need you
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i can’t believe i let someone like u break someone like me lol
GIRLS WHO GIVE GIRLS LAP DANCES BASICALLY FUCK ME UP OH GOD MY HORMONES
“I look at him over my shoulder and grin because these are the moments I love. These are the moments I live for, when he is just a boy and I am just a girl pretending that our happiness could heal the world and not just our hearts.”
— L.A.L. || excerpt from a WIP (via writing-in-the-wings)
do you ever get sad attacks and it drains you and you’re just left sitting there like wow this is so uncalled for rude
reblog if your blog is bisexual positive
When you fall for someone’s personality, everything about them becomes beautiful.
i feel like i can be myself around you. i find safety and familiarity in your smile and your eyes.
We are fourteen years old - all pudgy cheeks, flowered converse and crooked teeth. It’s the summer before freshman year and we’re lounging on couches in my living room with our eyes narrowed on the t.v. You sigh quietly and say, “I’ll never look like the girls on t.v.” Cringing inwardly at the palpable envy coating your voice, I silently wish that I knew how to erase it permanently. But instead I sneer and scoff, “Who wants to look like that anyway? It’s all so fake - mascara swipes and calorie strikes.” I hear you mutter something under your breath that sounds suspiciously like, “I do,” but you let out a shaky laugh and drop the subject. So I do too. The words taste like gravel in my mouth and I wish I could swallow them back down, but the damage is done. So we sit, drowning under the weight of our own insecurities, all at once hating those girls and wondering how to become them.
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“Every time we fight, I write something. Every time we make up, I write something. You know, how with cameras and smartphones, people forget to live the moment because they’re too busy capturing it? I think with tumblr, I have forgotten how loving you felt like, I only remember how writing about it was like.”
— //nikitagupta
this weekend was supposed to be me relaxing, instead it has turned into me deep cleaning my house and blasting music from 60s-80s
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reblogtypebeat reblogged this · 6 years ago
