Healing….

The end of whiskey bottles are supposed to make me forget you, not remember you twice as hard.

you’ve ruined 11:11 for me

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

On June 24th at 16:53, you messaged me for the very time saying “heyo” and we made some jokes. A couple days later we somehow ended up sharing the music room together at school.

You played the guitar and I glazed my fingers over the keyboard, too nervous to play, too scared to fail you. Music moves so smooth when you play it.

We spoke all the time after that, until we didn’t anymore and you went away.

I remember the way you sang that night at your house, how you told me I was beautiful after you saw me in a way no human ever had before. How it felt believable coming out of your mouth.

It was a different kind of love this time around, you made me feel… different. I don’t know where you are now, or who you’re in love with but I hope you’re happy. And I hope that in some way, you think of me the way I think of you.

lemon boy...

My time spent with him in the crippling cold and cosy months of October and November are going to be something my heart will hold onto forever. The sneaking around, nights spent up laughing. The echoes of happiness filled my room. Butterflies covered my shelves. The moment and memory of a first kiss. And the feeling of it being left to linger with its sweet and sugary taste. My first crush, my first kiss, my first time. If only it had really gone that way. If only it had lasted a little while longer. Ripping into the weeks of December and how it had nothing to offer but the ghost of him and what once was ours or bound to be ours. December was spent dying,fading and hugged tight between the arms of solitude. Each night my pillow drowning with tears, and the dark nightfall sky hearing my roaring screams as I beg for his love.

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.

Kissing him felt dipping my whole tongue in sugar and strawberries

love is understanding that he brought back the light in me, and I created the light in him. Even if the story ends with us shinning in different rooms.

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.

July.

July unfolds herself in a mess of aching limbs and a stretched-out heart. Swollen. A dream-haze. How slowly the summer months drift by; blush coloured clouds, coral lights, the world dusted in rose pink and a breathless awaiting. An awakening kiss. It seems that these days are a litte forsaken. The prince never comes/the angles stop believing in us. We breathe a sigh of relief. The sky relaxes her muscles and the birds fly home.