you'll always be diamonds in addressing the public
- Sept. 13, 2018, 3:12 p.m.
- |
- Public
eggs in one basket
i hoped that you’d call
i hoped that we’d change
that i’d give you my all
i’m getting too jealous
i’m not letting you go
and somehow i can blame you
when i’m feeling alone
you know i couldn’t hate you
maybe one day i’ll try
you showed me what real is
you opened my eyes
you’ll always be diamonds
i’m the glass you engraved
push too hard and i’ll shatter,
sliced when you pull away
and i’ll always be running
and when you’re bored of the chase
i will beg you to love me
beg to not be replaced
i once thought you were perfect
all my flaws on display
like a magnified mirror
built to scare you away
and i think, did you know me?
or did i hide that inside
beneath coolness and freedom
behind terror and pride
and i know no one’s perfect
you know i’m not naive
but in your arms in those moments
each time i’ve had to leave
you showed me what love means
what it takes us to try
to believe in a future
all while saying goodbye
Domino ⋅ September 13, 2018
💔
Deleted user ⋅ September 13, 2018
A terrible thing. Like a mud of blood stained anchor with a mouseketeer hat on it. The trophy of a red headed stepchild who waves to no one every time the little train comes 'round. Waves at a grave that occupies the bottom right of their vision. And you can hear their fingernails clawing at the inside of that casket, they are screaming; they are dying, and it's your fault.
Such a silly thing.
How selfish we are to think that someone should be ours, that they deserve what we have to offer; better off alone, practically anyone else. After all, a little hyperbole never hurt anybody. Right?!
A curse, misfortune, corruption. A cancer. Like a carrier with immunity, infecting everything you touch, and you know it. Like a supermarket smut novel that you've already read fifty times, you know what happens. But you keep doing it.
You want something, you've felt it all your life(, Neo). But it doesn't exist. You want fiction. You are simultaneously the victim and villain in your very own book. Embellishments galore. Balloons and ribbons, foundation and blush. The creature from the black lagoon with groucho glasses on.
You don't exist.
You want. And you want. And You. Want. But there's not enough, not in the long run. You want to touch the clouds. But they're fake too. <3
Nothing is real. pinch you See?
Not even me.
But I still believe in you. (you can do it)
:)
Serendipity. ⋅ October 09, 2018
have missed you beautifullll writing. hope youre well x