If To Love Is To Rest Then I Will Perceive Death For You.

I don't think I could ever stop writing completely.

permillion44

Pic via pinterest

To simply exist in all her devotion.

Dear universe

At 13 I thought that the universe hates me. For it made me tainted and it made me unlovable. Perhaps it was true; or perhaps I was just 13. Now I finally see that there are things that actually love me.

The darkness holds me still and grief kisses my hand. The demons in my head tell me it'll be fine. And hunger kind of always stays along with this unbearable ache. Longing lingers like a lonely child and sinister thoughts eat me up inside. Years of misery and wishing to be dead. Screams of terror and weeps of fate. But dear universe I wont complain. For dear universe I still am loved.

Tw: self harm

Autumn still

The spring air is filled with laughter and serenity.

Not something to be tainted with my goddamn tragedy.

But I am alone and my wrist is bleeding.

Despair surrounds me like death to the grieving.

I don't know peace; I perhaps never will.

For my disconsolate existence it is autumn still.

Pic via pinterest

Pic via pinterest

Is it normal to grieve yourself?

And still yearn the grief?

To know you'll be eternally hurting,

Why is it such a relief?

You were scared to ruin me

I assured you that you wouldn't

The unsaid truth was this:

I was already ruined

Long before I met you

Long before I knew how to love

And even before you became my home

.

But you left and it felt like death

Everyone said I'd get used to it

The cruel desire was this:

I don't want to get used to you

I don't want time to heal me

I always want you to be

An unbearable ache that kills me

.

My mind is being held hostage by you

And even in grief you feel like home

The maddening question is this:

Will you love the monster in me?

Will you love me at the end of the world?

Will you simply just love me?

Tw: eating disorders and self harm

The monsters in my head. They won't leave.

An empty stomach. A grave where I live.

Scars on my thighs. A strange relief.

A disconsolate existence. A sigh of grief

My shattered childhood. It haunts me still

Whimpers of pain. A broken will.

Venomous family. Full of greed.

Begged you to stop it. It never did.

Future love

Perhaps one day you'll hold me, once and forever.

Intoxicated we will be, lost in each other.

And then in the dark, you will touch the right parts of me.

In hushed tones I will show you, that you and I were meant to be.

Then slowly I will learn, how to truly love me.

And gently I will heal, like all my grief ceased to exist.

Him

He was butterflies.

He was anxiety.

He was silent cries.

He was that feeling of empty.

He was reliance.

He was trouble.

He was treacherous.

He was loyal.

He was steady.

He was unstable.

He was needy.

He was unpredictable.

He was my almost lover.

He was a goddamn nightmare.

He was a million little emotions.

Mixed into a disconsolate one.

What can life offer anyway

That I can't have with you in death?

What feels more like home anyway

Than it does besides your grave?