waiting room

in another universe, you’re not the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

is it too late to talk?

there is fate worse than death / and it’s living to hear eulogies / for the person you could have been.

i used to have so much potential, and i don’t know what has happened to me.

and if i asked you to name all the things that you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself? (i’d run out of breath and would lose my voice before i did that)

i’m not very proud of the way i have lived today

sometimes i realise there are so many things i wont remember in 50 years like the way the sky looked this morning and all the dogs i saw today and i get so sad i never want to forget

i have the frightful idea that i’ll have to suffer it all again.

life went on

but it was

never the

same

again.

what if i am 30 and still writing about you?

… hard to admit but i feel like i’m losing my spark.

i almost thanked you for teaching me something about survival back there, but then i remembered that the ocean never handed me the gift of swimming. i gave it to myself.

i am a year older today. are you thinking of me

don’t forget : somewhere between hello and goodbye, there was love. so much love.

i love you - i do - but i am afraid of making that love too important. because you’re always going to leave me. we can’t deny it. you’re always going to leave.

i try my best for you. i wish you knew. i know it’s never enough. but it’s all i have left for you.

it’s getting harder and harder to choose

i feel i’ll always choose you and that terrifies me

i’m not sure

who i am anymore

the world just kept turning. i never forgave it for that

and i’m not capable of saying i’m this or i’m that i’ve lost myself on my way toward happiness. not found yet. i’ve gone nowhere and undone

busy hiding from my undercurrent for i don’t want to upset those loving me. i don’t want them to know my solitary life. in aloneness it’s like deep dry pit. it’s harder and harder to climb up. to show the world my hardy smile. i don’t know how long i can endure this that i’m like an absorbing book. pouring out the whole me for everyone to take in til none of my identity is left. i don’t know how to feel about myself. i’m not sure if i’m alive.

i’m not sure if i’m alive.

i’m not sure if there’s a soul inside this body.

i’m not sure if i’m okay.

this is the version which i wanted to be the real one. it’s not. you hate me. i love you. i will sing this story to myself tonight (again), to the beat of rain drumming down on my windows. i love you. i hoped you’ve stopped bleeding.

isn’t memory often about loneliness?

- do you have any weapons on you?

- i have a longing that’s killing me.

our conversations don’t usually go as planned. you’re much nicer to me in my head.

look at you comforting others with the words you wish to hear.

i cannot be alone with my thoughts

you can lie to everybody around you but you can’t lie to the hole inside you

the only thing that i remember is how bad it made me feel

the way it once felt all right and the way i can’t go back