My heart bleeds for all of Paris
my mind with the saints, my eyes begging to weep with the parisians weeping as they watch in silent horror.
My gratitude, every single ounce goes for four hundred firefighters individually.
My only wish is to be there with you all and with Quasimodo.
Thank you Víctor Hugo for allowing us to love, to find and appreciate the true beauty.
Live forever with all your stunner might.
J’e te aime
Notre Dame Cathedral
Should I have felt bad to have expected something from you,
If the expectation was a little much?
Probably yes, you’ve seen people come and go.
Probably yes, because I’m the the type who gets attached.
Probably because I love you
But at the end of the day you’re my boss,
And you said you like having me here.
But then some people come and most of them have to go.
And departure was pretty much expected.
I consider you one of the many
Loves of my life for almost eight years.
Now I can never forgive you for the things you have done,
But you still hold a crumb of my shriveled heart.
Could that stick illness into
My Cracked Heart Forever?
Would you Try
that love back?
But then why
would you when you
reject the same one
Would my love
still be there
as I assume?
When or Will would that love that was not
I’d be lying if I said that I’ve been strong.
Time hasn’t passed for us long enough yet.
Watching videos and clips of you feel as if they were now
and the clock feels like it’s stopped.
Hearing your voice, watching your decade brothers sing their song about your relationship.
Seeing them in tears crumbles my heart until gone.
Only words “You Did Well”
Can you hear us through our tears?
Could you hear us, and what do you think about?
What goes on in your mind? Do you have a mind?
Just your huge heart and wonderful wings?
Are you happy on the moon?
Some are born winners.
Some are born quitters.
My family are full on winners.
I’m the only member who quits.
It was beautiful dreaming about having a life with you.
Finding my red string mate with
Bearing my children with you.
It was a bizarre beautiful dream.
너와 함께한 삶에 대해 꿈꿔 본 것은 아름다웠다.
내 빨간 문자열 친구를 찾는
내 아이들을 너와 함께 지키라.
그것은 기괴한 아름다운 꿈이었다.
“Just One Sip”
Should be fine.
The liquid inside that pretty decorative bottle had been offered to me
By my roommate’s Dominican parents-
I said “No me gusta el alcol”-
Meaning “I don’t like alcohol”
Not because I’m underage but because I just don’t like the taste.
If I get told that I will change my mind it pushes a button within.
For the sake of being polite, I keep the eye rolling turned off.
Very little of the time however, having maybe a little “tragito” would be nice.
That can heal me after seeing my soon-to-be divorcées hugging.
The drops running down my throat to replace the tears rolling down my face.
To heal my suicidal thoughts and replace them with thoughts of the s...
There was never
a moment in her life
when she feels so empty about everything.
She’s not reaching a hand.
She’s still super doubtful.
For just a moment, show her what the afterlife is like.
Let her reborn as another for another chance.
She knows nothing is perfect.
But she knows that nothing can be this awful.
She keeps away from therapy.
Instead turning to antidepressants.
As if she doesn’t want help out.
Never have I felt solely empty looking at wedding pictures.
Never have I thought true love could end.
Never have I questioned married people if they like being married.
What would I know if I’m too young though?
What would I know about falling in love at 20?
What would I know from reading about it in fanfics?
What would I learn from heartbreak and divorce from
Only that I’m gaining disinterest.
If that someone really is there on the other side of the world.
Tell him, to stop waiting.
I can no longer see myself next to him.
Brother: Gove me your hand.
I gave him my left hand.
Brother: Feel how warm that is?
Brother: Think about never having to feel that again.
I broke down sobbing.
New York worried me hundreds of times.
After seeing my role models perform live,
giving speeches in their own words about
self love and acceptance.
For a moment they have made me reconsider thoughts to take my own life.
For a moment making my two wishes come true fueled me with some new
sort of new content mood.
For a moment I felt reborn after nine months of grief,
wonders over depression have turned off and nothing else mattered.
Such a sweet moment.
The more pressed together we are,
the more gulps you want to take of myself.
The more my fingertips trail every warm spot,
the closer you hold my face against yours.
The more times this occasion happens,
the more I want to hear you say
I love you.
But you never do.
I will not leave
I will not leave...
Until I truly
feel like I’m ready to leave.
Please tell me what it's like in Heaven.
Is it better?
Are you finally getting what you always desired?
Is everyone there as an angel?
Or is there room to become part of the galaxy?
Can you hear those who love you up there?
Can you show me someday?
Can I really,
Do Anything I wanted
To do what I love,
Just because I love it
When does passion fade?
Can that come back?
Is it natural for that
Passion to go for
I told myself that I could learn
To be content being alone all the time.
I do now.
I told myself that I could prepare for whenever the universe
Says there's no spot for me beside you.
That there's no one to dance to Ahora Tu
Or ”Eyes, Nose, and Lips” to.
That I can learn to live without soulmates if that wasn't for me.
But another part of me aches for that someone.
That someone I can love perfectly imperfect.
Someone I can call my Bachata and Blues.
Someone to argue and later makeup with,
Someone who is willing to put up with my stubbornness
The same as I'm willing to put up with theirs.
For now I think I'm still too young
And too drained.
Originally written July 14.
My grieving for you
Should not be something wrong.
Crying for you should not be an exaggeration.
Should not be overdramatic.
When I started to cry, my feelings were hurt.
I was told that I could not cry for you.
Half a year passed since you left
And I miss you dearly.
Tattoos aren’t labeled as ‘troublemakers’ we see on television.
Tattoos aren’t “non gentleman like” or
“Non lady like.”
Tattoos are permanent body art.
And art have meanings behind them.
Like the person wearing them.
Dispersing for what feels dreadful months.
Nows the time I start using antidepressants.
I thought about them and I might actually need them.
I’m sorry for bringing grief to Lettrs’s feed.
Tell me I’ll be welcomed again.
Lots of love
They think somebody’s forcing venom inside me.
They don’t know the demon is my own figure.
They said I’m young and still learning.
I told myself I should’ve known by now.
Again my vision gets blurred, again my voice cracks mid-sentence.
Again I say “I shouldn’t have come.”
They lose temper.
She wanted to live because self love.
She wanted to die old of age and happily.
She wanted to live because she had no guts.
She wanted to live because she made a deal even before she was born.
In such sort time she evolved into her current form.
She didn’t think the reason was their death because she didn’t want guilt thrown.
Maybe this form is her destined trut...
What do you call...
Making your loved ones satisfied...
By sacrificing your own happiness?
She told me there’s passionate amor and lasting pleasure when we’re together.
She also told me there’s mindless lust and pleasantness when they’re together.
It wasn’t until hours before I broke the silence and I take a gulp of her with all my heart.
“It’s okay. I still love you too.”