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[unrequitedheart]

🌻

[unrequitedheart]

If I mispronounce your name because it is foreign to my tongue, correct me.

I don’t purposefully allow the accents of your name to fall flat on my tongue like the European English demands or the language to sound chopped and misheard.

If I don’t say your name correctly, don’t shrug and say it’s ok because people have been doing it all your life. Your mother worked hard to name you that name, with all its syllables and apostrophes and hyphens and inflection.

I don’t want to disrespect your heritage, your culture, your great grandmother or grandfather and their struggle.

If I mispronounce your name, forgive me, but don’t let it happen again. Make sure everyone knows your name.

[unrequitedheart]

It’s not that I don’t love you it’s the sound of glass shattering and my mom drunkenly stumbling into my room face dripping crimson leaving the floor a vast sea of blood and it’s the nasty names falling from my father mouth and tears falling from my mothers eyes and the bruises littering her body and the blood, so much fucking blood. It’s not that I don’t love you it’s the time my older sisters boyfriend broke up with her and she didn’t leave her room for six days because getting out of bed was just too much, she nearly went to the hospital on day six, I think he took her will to live with him when he left her. It’s not that I don’t love you it’s the week my best friend spent at the mental hospital because her girlfriend fucked her ex. They think she was trying to end her life but I think she was trying to fill the hole in her heart with a bottle of prescription pills, I spent the next month watching her break her teeth on cheap liquor bottles and turning her body into a canvas with a twist, you see the paint was red and the canvas was her wrist. It’s not that I don’t love you it’s that when the first boy I fell in love with told me he never loved me I chased two bottles of pills with some liquor and spent the night throwing up everything inside me but my love for him, a week later the “nice” lady at the mental hospital asked me why I wanted to die, I told her I didn’t want to die at all I just wanted to feel something other than the pain of him leaving. It’s not that I don’t love you it’s that time I got a call from the ICU because my cousin was in a coma, the doctors told me they had to shock his heart to bring him back, when he was finally stable and could have visitors he told me she left him so he tied off his arm and shoved a needle into his veins because somehow that hurt less than the knife she shoved in his back when she left him. It’s not that I don’t love you it’s that I do…

it’s not that i don’t love you /// trippyvibes1969 (inspired by extrasad)

[unrequitedheart]

i really needed this today, so for anyone else who might

[unrequitedheart]

I love you : translation : I would love you : translation: I have the capacity to love you if you would let me

Donte Collins (via wnq-writers)

Get Donte’s incredible book here.

(via buttonpoetry)

[unrequitedheart]

How to Destroy Yourself from the Inside Out First, fall for someone with a storm in their eyes and thunder in their veins there will be lighting in every touch and a hurricane will rage through your rib cage when he calls you a work of art Second, stand by, helplessly watching behind miles of distance as he falls for a girl who is not you you will watch his face break into an electric grin and hear the sunshine dripping from his words but they will not be for you Third, your chest will begin to fracture each casual mention of her name from his rose petal lips will splinter your bones and jumble your mind you will attempt to pry him from your thoughts Fourth, every ounce of your being will tell you to run but you will ignore the warnings lead on by blind hope you will run after him until you are drained and empty and exhausted you will collapse and crumble but you will collect your pieces and bloom again and before you realize it you will be overflowing with love not from him but from yourself

how to destroy yourself /// jackieboian (via sleevesofgrass)

[unrequitedheart]

INTP: I am a robot. I don't have any feelings.

INTP: *cries after talking to their best friend that they haven't seen in years because they miss them so much and probably won't see each other soon*

[unrequitedheart]

if you are not crazy, i mean absolutely crazy about what you love, then i beg you, either find a way to be insanely crazy about it or throw it away. you were not born with half an ass human therefore you have no right to half-ass the intensity in which you love.

christopher poindexter (via sleevesofgrass)

[unrequitedheart]

[unrequitedheart]

I. It is the first thing you see when you look at him. It is jellybeans and cherry soda; the plump ripeness of a spring day. It is a whistle (pursed and taut on his face) as he lilts through the melody of “Dream A Little Dream”. II. A light peck (at your front door, at the end of the night, like in all your favourite movies). It is the smile you cannot erase as you try to fall asleep. III. It is the taste of sweat and fervour as you clamour at each other, as though nothing else in the world matters except this atomic, explosive, rapturous moment in time. Only this. Only now. IV. “It meant nothing.” It is the resonant din of words tumbling out (all excuses, of course, no matter how well-meaning). It is the breath suddenly leaving you as the realisation hits. You still remember his voice, and how it shaped the air as he spoke. It is the last memory to fade.

his mouth /// v-esuvius (via sleevesofgrass)

[unrequitedheart]

And I wanted to write you a story. Something that you would want to believe because lately you haven’t been doing that. 
I wanted to write you a story a little less real but not as bad as the ones with happy endings; I wanted to make you yearn for new beginnings.
I wanted to write you something you would love to read on a cloudy Saturday afternoon with you wrapped up in a cashmere sweater. But maybe I didn’t know you that well and you didn’t love yourself enough to let me. So I wrote to you about my favourite memories. I wrote to you about how much I love the city lights and how much I miss my best friend. I wrote to you, letters with proper stamps on them, addressed to you. Because I know how much you love them, how much you love watching Pride and Prejudice once every month. I know you love winter more than anything any season has to offer. You will choose the gush of cold morning air over the red and yellow leaves, over hot summer nights. I know that you like your socks pink and striped but your sweaters black or grey. I know that you choose to read until you fall asleep, that you hate rereading a book or rewatching a movie. That you only want to experience everything once so you have space for more memories. Because you love the feel of first times on your fingers, the first beach waves on your toes, the first walk home in the rain, and the first time you lay on the hood of a car and watched a meteor shower. I know you don’t I? Dear self, believe me. I know you. So I am building you a bookshelf in my room, so you can keep all the poetry books you want to. And I am putting up a board on the wall, so you can pin up all of your favourite photographs. I am trying to make you feel more at home. Because I think I can do that much for you.

cookiesandsweaters (via sleevesofgrass)

[unrequitedheart]

My tongue is well trained in the sit still. Its my hands that can’t keep a secret.

Sabrina Benaim, How to Unfold a Memory (via alittlebitofwhateveryouneed)

Check out Sabrina’s book!

(via buttonpoetry)

[unrequitedheart]

[unrequitedheart]

Maybe…you’ll fall in love with me all over again.“ "Hell,” I said, “I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?” “Yes. I want to ruin you.” “Good,” I said. “That’s what I want too.

ernest hemingway (via sleevesofgrass)

[unrequitedheart]

Jinan Safko

[unrequitedheart]

Honestly I put so much into every relationship and constantly get disappointed when other people don't do the same

[unrequitedheart]

depression: hi you're now addicted to anything that makes you feel better