Tag: writing

againagainagain

Josephine1 Comment

days are a long stretch of
giving in and giving up
and we keep staring into
our phone trying to find
someone that will speak to us

someone who will admit that
you have the right
to feel like the entire world
is trying to drag you down
into the cold graves

someone that will listen
to all our your stories
and respond with something
more meaningful then
the tiring usual ‘okay’

someone that will brighten
your regular rainy days
and convince you about
the fact that lighting
and thunder aren’t deadly

someone that will hold
the entire universe
between their lips
and hands you a taste
of toxic disbelief

someone that will be a
person on its very own
with an pedestal
and degrade every single
one before their presence

someone that will teach
you that love might not
always be lasting and that
you should stop reading
and writing about fairytales

and we will do it
again and again and again
until we are courageous
enough to finally live
and listen to ourselves

YOU DIDN’T

JosephineLeave a comment

HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING MEAN.

‘WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU’

BUT I KNOW THAT YOU UNDERSTAND THAT,

IT IS JUST THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW IT.

YOU DON’T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BLAME,

THAT I MIGHT BE HURTING.

AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE,

BUT YOU MAY NEVER EVER BLAME ME

THAT I STILL WRITE ABOUT YOU.

 

If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die – Mik Everett

I won’t

JosephineLeave a comment

I won’t tell you what I want to tell you. I won’t tell how I feel. I won’t tell you how to fucking live your life. I won’t tell you that you aren’t taking every chance. I won’t tell you that you are letting fear rule you. I won’t tell you that you that fear of commitment isn’t a real thing. I won’t tell you that it is actually fear of letting go, or being left. I won’t tell you that I’ll never fucking break your heart. I won’t have to, you never let me in. I won’t tell you that you can trust me, you won’t tell me anything. I won’t tell you that I know shit better. I won’t tell you that because I’m three years younger than you. I won’t be the one to tell you that you’re absolutely deadly gorgeous. I won’t scare the shit out of you. I won’t be the one to be there for you, even if you decide to need me. I won’t fucking wait around for you to change your mind. I won’t hold you at night when you are feeling lonely. I won’t tell you that there is more to life than smoking and drinking. I won’t tell you I think you’re lying. I won’t tell you you’re a fucking liar. I won’t tell you that you should have told the truth. I won’t be your girl. I won’t be the one to tell you everything you need to hear. I won’t be the one to help you. I won’t be the one to make you better. I won’t be the one that will love you forever. I won’t be the one. I will not

 

Saturday.

JosephineLeave a comment

When I approach her my knees are weak and my heart trembles. When I leave her behind in the last room it feels like I’m stabbing my own heart and feel like I’ve lost you. Every time we reunite I can’t help but hold on to your hand as if it was my infusion. I get dazed by the complicated paintings on the ceiling, but I could get completely lost in your eyes. Your pace is a bare moderate version of mine, and I thought we would always catch up. But now I’m standing here staring into the crowded room behind me. I swear you were there. I know you were. I stood there and waited. I stood there and tried to find you. The paintings can be breathtaking and the museum could be made of gold. But you were a collectors item, a special edition fineprint. But you were limited, and now you’re gone. 

Incomplete

JosephineLeave a comment

I feel incomplete, I keep on looking for answers. I feel indecisive, my mind is going round and round and never stops. I feel hesitant and doubtful, I can’t seem to be determined. I feel anxious, I’m scared and everything creeps upon me. I am missing protection, I miss a certain kind of warm safety. I know what is missing. It is joy. It is happiness. But mostly, fulfillment.

Desolate

JosephineLeave a comment

I’d like to say that it is nothing. But I can feel this vapor layer in de ridges of my eyes. The feeling aches within my hollow chest. Seconds pass without blinking, more seconds pass without breathing. I stare silently into this maze of unraveling emotions. This grieving nostalgic feeling hangs between my ribs and with every breath it sets itself free. It has the utmost power to break the joy of my face.

I have known home and I have known what commitment means. But after all these years I have lost this knowledge of fulfillment.

I realized how my eyes filled themselves with tears.
You can’t fight something you have always known.
You can only decide how much they desolate you.

I wish

JosephineLeave a comment

I wish someone would love me. I wish someone saw something more than trouble in my story. I wish someone took a chance because not everything is as it seems. I wish someone wouldn’t discourage my ruthless actions but would join me. I wish someone would accept the fact that we won’t always be together. I wish someone was there for me the way I needed them to. I wish someone would hold my hand in the dark. I wish someone would sing along with my favorite songs. I wish someone would take me to parties and share drinks. I wish for so many things, for someone to experience life with.

I wish that I’d love myself more.
I do, but I wish it was enough.