toujours-desparu

[toujours-desparu]

I told you I was letting you go.

It should’ve been easy after everything my soul endured with you,

The trauma will follow me,

Imprinted on my heart wherever I run.

I will always think of you,

In the worst of ways,

On my best days.

Someone will ask me why I’m so quiet,

Without knowing I was shushed for years,

Or they’ll ask me why I am distant,

Without realizing that I am full of fear.

We succumb to the monsters under are bed,

Even when our parents tell us they aren’t there,

We’re still terrified at the thought they could still appear.

It’s hard to get over the fact that they don’t exist,

It’s hard to overcome your fears.

When I finally shut my eyes at night,

Sometimes my dreams feel real,

You’re there,

Nothing can convince me otherwise,

The hate in your eyes burns me,

Your words stab me,

I hear the screaming and the yelling,

I can feel your fingers on my skin,

Leaving bruises and scratches,

While my heart destroys me from within.

When I do wake up,

I am not relieved,

My dreams and my reality coexist,

I stare off replaying days taken from me,

Locked away in the darkest parts of my mind with nothing but your sins,

And all my broken thoughts.

If I let you go,

And broke my bonded chains,

Maybe you’d stop haunting me,

All the pain you brought to me could maybe fade away,

But your ghost is all that I have left of you,

The person you were died in our hardest days,

My best friend,

My trusting protector,

Turned my whole world into flames.

I will let you go,

I know I will one day,

I’ll take all the ashes you’ve left in me and blow them all away.

[toujours-desparu]

I hope you find her,

And when you do,

I hope you fucking see her for all that she is.

I hope you put your pride to the side,

And understand how healing it can be to feel,

To trust,

To have someone,

Because you will never truly love yourself as you are now,

The real you,

And I think that’s the problem.

You are sad,

And oh so pathetic.

Your mask is made of iron,

And it’s slowly rusting away my dear.

I hope you find her,

And realize you found gold.

[toujours-desparu]

i love the feeling of falling in love with someone. it’s like i have strawberry fields growing in my stomach i don’t know.

4am

[toujours-desparu]

“I pushed you away and then blamed you for letting me go.”

— AF Montesino (Diary of a broken doll #1)

[toujours-desparu]

— From Peter McWilliams’s I Love Therefore I am

[toujours-desparu]

“You don’t have to stay,“ I whispered. "I know I’m not easy to love.” He laughed, that effortless, happy laugh of his. “Trying to get to know you was tough, and getting you to tell me how you feel is sometimes impossible, but loving you isn’t hard. Loving you is the easy part.”

— AF Montesino 

[toujours-desparu]

I don’t know what we are. We’re not friends and we’re not lovers but when you’re looking at me like that and your hands are in my hair, I think maybe, maybe, this is something more. I don’t know what we are. I never knew how to tell the difference between you and you’re and how to tie my shoe laces until I was 13. Maybe that’s why I ended up with bloody knees a lot when I was a kid. But I’m not a kid anymore and my knees are still bloody and my mouth is still slipping out “sorry’s” like water every time my mom catches me stumbling through the door at 2 in the morning drunk and vodka pouring out of my pores like perfume. We aren’t friends and we aren’t lovers but when you’re holding me and my face is in your chest, I swear I feel the world. You’re everywhere. In my chest, in my lungs, in my veins, in the way I drink my morning coffee, every fucking where. So maybe we aren’t lovers, but we’re something and that has to count for something even if you never call me back.

I really have to stop wishing for you to call back

[toujours-desparu]

“I should’ve photographed him before he changed. I should have frozen him the way he was. The way I loved him. The way he will never be again.”

Unkown

[toujours-desparu]

You have my permission not to love me. I am a cathedral of dead bolts & I’d rather burn myself down than change the locks.

— Rachel McKibbens, from “letter from my brain to my heart,” blud

[toujours-desparu]

We don’t laugh together anymore. We don’t touch. We don’t talk. Baby we don’t even look at each other. We are strangers. No feelings involved. Just memories. Yeah, strangers with memories.

[toujours-desparu]

You shouldn’t waste your time on people who do not understand the kind of love you carry within your bones.

[toujours-desparu]

“when the moon fell in love with the sun, silver and gold were never farther apart. when polar opposites fall in love, they only touch with broken hearts. she said, “you can burn me with every glance and i wouldn’t mind the flames.” and she said, “i’ll love the ocean and every moment of heartache.” and when the moon fell in love with the sun i suppose that you learn you’ll sacrifice anything for love.”

— when day falls in love with night || r.m. || 8.21.17

[toujours-desparu]

[toujours-desparu]

“Sometimes, I feel like I have so many feelings in me that I have no idea what to do with them, how to express them without messing myself up a little bit. Sometimes, I feel like I have nothing, absolutely nothing in me. Like I am just another speck of dust at the corner of an abandoned home and I will do almost anything to fill myself up.”

— Lukas W. // If you are in my shoes

[toujours-desparu]

I remember 

Loving you

was painful

and quick

and kind

it was nothing

then everything

then nothing

I remember

Loving you

was hopeful 

And

An eternity of

possibility

I remember 

Loving you

was worth it

Even 

After

It 

Wasent 

[toujours-desparu]

Some hours ago 

I felt something

while resting my head on your shoulder

I felt safe

[toujours-desparu]

I loved him, even though he was broken and cruel and not good for me or to me. Isn’t it odd how we ignore the people who are willing to do anything for us just to give attention to the people who use us for their own benefit. Isn’t that the definition of self sabotage, of being the cause of your own unhappiness? And he isn’t a good man, but it isn’t his fault you wrapped your fragile heart in a delicate box with a bow and handed it to him. It’s not his fault, he didn’t want it to begin with, after all he never asked for it. But somehow he’s got a full collection of broken hearts that belong to him because for some reason the lonely love the heartless.

-C.C.