light up.

the many things i’d rather do than talk to you:

• watch golf
• lose a chess game
• write a shitty poem to my ex
• send that shitty poem to my ex 
• look directly at a solar eclipse
• moon my dad
• gain 5 pounds
• use a public restroom (dear god, i cannot stand public restrooms)
• stalk the ugliest boy i know on Facebook
• be insulted by my Grandmother
• listen to someone talk while trying to watch a movie
• lose 3 days of sleep
• talk to my parents about masturbation
• eat oatmeal raisin cookies
• go to jail for a night
• tip3 & sp3l 3vryth@n inc0r3cTli
• be interrupted while trying to tell a story
• erase all the music on my Itunes accidentally
• be stuck in traffic
• have exciting future plans be canceled
• stand around loud, obnoxious people
• throw up
• be touched by an annoying person
• be touched by anybody
• listen to 3 hours of Rihanna songs
• hear my mother cry
• drop my iPhone in the toilet
• have 20 dollars stolen
• get hit on by a strange old man
• miss the premiere of Season 2 of Awkward
• eat a full tub of mayonnaise (ew)
• burn my hand on the stove
• shave my head
• watch grass grow
• have a full-on conversation with Paris Hilton about the color pink
• wear only yellow clothes for a week straight
• get drunk and flash that creeper in Chemistry
• pretend i give a shit when i really don’t
• put. a. period. after. every. word. i. type.
• CAPITALIZE EVERYTHING NO MATTER WHAT
• sit through hours and hours of banking commercials
• get on a 12-hour flight (considering i’m terrified of flying)
• have a nightmare that involves Freddy Krueger and/or that mouse from Chuck E Cheese
• get even bigger boobs…and that’s the last thing i want
• swim in a pool full of pee (not my own pee either)
• have sex with a whale
• eat a pile of dog shit
• walk through Hollister
• choke on sunflower seeds
• go clubbing with Lindsay Lohan 
• smash my guitar into itty bitty pieces

but yeah fuck off i’m over this

I don’t want to love you anymore.

And when I say “love”, I do not mean butterflies and a speeding heartbeat and jelly legs…none of those romanticized phrases. It’s simpler than that, it’s deeper than that, it’s more innocent than that. I don’t want to think about you every day. I don’t want you to skirt in and out of my dreams, where I can only hope we end up near each other. I miss you everyday, yet I can’t seem to push past your hard exterior. I smell vanilla and think of you. I watch crime shows and think of you and how you and I used to sit on the floor and wonder where the people grew to be so crazy that they would kill their own son or daughter. I listen to Eminem and think of you. I remember the way you felt, warm and comforting…so hard to keep, so easy to lose.

I don’t want to love you anymore, not because anyone is feeding me lies about you, but rather because you can hurt and frustrate and irritate me through a simple text. You are the most selfish person I have ever met.

And yet I still think of you every time I laugh, every time I speak, every time I cry, every time I do my own laundry or clean my own room or do my own hair. I think of you every time I look in the mirror, because my goodness, do you have the most beautiful eyes. I’m so glad I have them too.

I love you, but there are deep seated issues in our relationship that make me feel unstable every second of the day…you are the anchor, wrapped around my leg and holding me down when all I want to do is swim. You are the weight I can’t seem to rid myself of. You are my burden, and I want you gone. I want you gone, I want you gone gone gone gone gone

If only it were easier to let you go. If only it were easier to let go of someone who once taught you everything you know. You are my base, the person I need to fall back on to feel better when life gets hard…but you aren’t around and sometimes, that makes life ten times harder.

How do you cut the chord? How do you stop loving someone you want so desperately in your life?

rip tbc.

I guess I could sit here and write some poetic statement about how much you meant to the world, and how much you affected everyone around you, but I can’t. I did not know you. I talked to you once. I did not know you. But everyone is speaking for me, even as an outsider…why you? Why you, of all people? The kid everyone enjoyed being around, a smile that lit up the room, just truly nice. Why you? Again, I did not know you…but somehow, you have affected me in ways I know not of. As I am usually a sensitive person to death regardless of the circumstances, I am sad to hear from some of my closest friends that they are in pain. And though I did not know you, I feel connected to you through my old hometown…the way Facebook was flooded with posts the day you passed away, the way my brother recited memories of you in detail, the way the town seemed too quiet for comfort (even from 500 miles away…)

I’m struggling with my religion. How could a God as merciful and loving as mine not let someone as great as you into Heaven because you didn’t believe in him? It’s not fair. I refuse to believe it, or picture it. You’re somewhere better, and I can’t think of any other possibility from the way everyone seemed to describe you. 

I’m getting angry with people who are so dumb and idiotic and choose to get upset over the littlest things when life is so precious and you can’t waste time because before you know it, it’ll all be gone. It seems apparent to me that it takes one life to be cut short in order for many of us to realize that, and that’s sad. There are so many people who weren’t affected by your death that may not ever realize this, and that scares me. It truly does. 

Tyler, wherever you are, I hope you know you are loved beyond all means. And even though I did not know you…I won’t forget you or the impact you made on everyone. 

RIP

nostalgia creeps into your mind at unexpected times
feeling as though tree branches are
scratching the walls of your brain
(bleeding, bleeding, bleeding)

dreaming of what you lost
due to ignorance or lack of effort
it’s never enough 
the waves aren’t as large or calm 
the desert isn’t as sandy or free
the plains aren’t golden anymore and 
it’s over

it’s never enough these days
these wonderful, lively, happy days
and though i am an empty carcass
(waiting to be picked at by the surrounding vultures)
my bones are warm as always,
the sun resting apparent in the sky and
most likely because i dared to stare long enough, but it is
bright as ever here in great state of California

“what a lovely day
what a lovely afternoon,” they say

(and yet it will always rain when i 
think of 
you)

you know, i’m going to sound like a bit of a cynic but
fuck love.
(romantic love, that is)
anyone i’ve ever gone for has done
nothing but
damage.
and i know i’m young,
i have time to grow and
meet better people but sometimes
it’s just like,
fuck love,
you know?

Insomnia

sneakyandsmoked-out:

The walls connect to form a cage, the door is a mousetrap just waiting to snap.
Here, there is nothing. Claustrophobia sets in, the walls are shrinking. 
Nothing, nothing, nothing. 
Night is when the mind is most active. 
Thinking. 
Processing. 
Remembering. 
How does one sleep when there is so much to be done? 
The beast returns, a brutal slap to the face. 
Let me paint your eyes - eggplant, with a hint of charcoal. Yes, that will do.
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
The mind goes to him. The mind goes to her. The mind goes to them.
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
They don’t come nearly as fast as they go. Trust not those who claim to care. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. 
The beast lays waste to a forever-marked soul, sets the conflict aflame once more. 
Intelligent. Stupid. Needed. Worthless. Talented. Useless. Beautiful. Hideous. Healthy. Fat. Loved. Hated. Fun. Boring. Loving. Cruel. Forgiving. Vindictive.  Perfect. Not good enough. 
Not good enough. 
Not good enough. 
Merciless echoes throughout every cavity of the mind. 
In this moment, we cannot deny what we are. 
So, what are you? 

They say it’s impossible to get over a  broken heart
That you just have to let go of one
Patch it over and forget about it
As if the feelings holding you hostage could be stashed into a red envelope
And sent off to China or Paris or somewhere far
Where someone else could really use 
Those wobbly knees
The nervousness to impress
Those endless conversations of nothingness (just the joy of being together overrides the awkward silences)
Those perfect evenings 
And even better afternoons
It’s never too much
Never too little

You only find that once in lifetime 
Because if it’s real, it’ll last forever
And people don’t believe in forever these days
As if it’s a word that has no definition because 
it would be a lie anyway
But I believe in forever
I’ve never experienced it but I’ve read about it, and I’ve harbored the limitless type of love that seemingly old couples cherish as they walk down streets together,
Their hands no longer young, but still holding each other
As if they were still only seventeen 
And the way they look at each other, is precious
Timeless…
I’ve seen the way he looks at her 
and I know that’s forever
Because that’s the way I looked at him
And they say you can never get over a broken heart
You just have to forget
As if the feelings holding you hostage could be stashed inside a red envelope, 
And sent off to China or Paris or somewhere far

But that’s not always the case
Because this type of love is forever
And it is too large to send off to a young, naive girl
It is too much to be passed on

I treasure this feeling as much as 
I wallow in it these days
I treasure it too much to 
Let it go

Anonymous asked: You should check out the novel "Forever and A Day by Tommy Tran"

alright, i just might!

you dwell on my mind constantly

you are raw
insides peeling to the side
like book pages, burning silently and
waiting for the rain
the only thing that makes it easier
to breathe…
and i remember one time
you told me you didn’t feel alive
but that the sound of the rain
pattering away on the roof
makes you sleep heavy
with dreams the size of
mount everest
dreams the size of
rome

(i think rain makes you feel
less alone
as if the droplets were your friends
and the sounds filling your ears
were to fill your empty heart
as well)

but that’s besides the point,
i’m dying to know,
can you hear me?
have i made myself clear?
through ink blotches and
notebooks, journals
filled to the brim with
endless words
not large or loud enough to explain
how hurt i am that you left
despite all the reasons to stay
you left

i need to know,
can you hear me?
have i made myself clear?
does my pain, strung together in
seemingly pretty poems,
transfer to your mind?
to your dreams?
to your nightmares?

do you ever think about me
without thinking of yourself first?

notebooks and journals
filled to the brim with
indescribable hurt

i just wish you would have
stayed

scaryfragile:

the frost has frozen my eyelashes together
and my fingers are curled in mittens that smell like you

(Source: tigersbrave)