Saturday, June 26, 2010

Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them

People always leave.
Sometimes they come back.
Sometimes they don't.

All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the springs of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.
Publish Post

I’ve always avoided fights. I make jokes instead. I tell people what they want to hear in order to avoid a confrontation. I pretend to want things I don’t want, and I pretend not to want things I do want. No one gets hurt. Except me. The lines are so crossed and blurred at this point that I don’t know what I want. I just know I want it to be easy.

Homesickness is just a state of mind for me. I’m always missing someone or someplace or something, I’m always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing.

it's like i'm screaming at the top
of my lungs
but it's no use, you don't
hear me
anyways. i just need you to
listen, i have too much to say.

after all that's said and done, i still think you're amazing
i still cherish every moment i ever spent with you and every smile you brought to my face
i'll forever be thankful that someone like you was brought into my life, even if it had to be taken away too soon.
see you were my miracle, you were my fairytale i got to live.

The funny thing is, nobody really ever knows
how much anybody else is hurting. We could be standing next to
somebody who is completely broken, and we wouldn't even know...

I wondered what happened when you offered yourself
to someone, and they opened you, only to discover
you were not the gift they expected and they had to
smile and nod and say thank you all the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment