Old Flame

You still have this way of haunting me, even though you're still breathing. And there are some times I wish you weren't, but there are others when all I want is just to share one more breath, and be done with it. You all crowd my head, and you cloud my vision, and I can't see what is staring me right in the face. I'm all choked up and you're doing just fine, but I wish I wasn't and I wish you weren't, and I wish I knew just what I wanted.

I don't want any of this.
I don't want any of you.
Just stop.

One of those days.

So I'm pretty sick of being me. And fairly tired of being alive. And I really just want everything to stop. I wish I could let down these stupid barriers and just be myself. Six months ago, I honestly thought I knew who I was, and now I barely even know why I'm here. It's exhausting, feeling this worthless, and having to constantly come up with reasons why I should bother staying awake. It's a pretty horrible feeling, having to come here to write down my thoughts because I don't feel comfortable actually verbalising them to anyone except my mother. I want everyone I know to see the real me. I just want to stop pretending. I'm fed up with picturing my broken body twisted across a pavement, and wondering how many people I've actually left a lasting impression on. Sick sick sick.

You.

What do I do when I'm falling to pieces and the only person I want to put me back together again is somewhere on a distant planet living an entirely different life and has most likely forgotten that I'm not okay and I need them now more than ever.

Courage

It's not something that I usually have
See it has a tendency of hiding from me
And when the time comes for me to stand
Instead, I just sit there, cowardly

And I hope for the strength that you possess
But bravery can be such a hard thing to hold
Yet you guard it so firmly behind your eyes
Now how could I ever be that bold?

As I imagine you unafraid and alone
I look at myself and I don't want to think
Why is it I who is crumbling down
When I'm trying to float, but I'm starting to sink

Then I hear a voice say that it's killing you too
And I smile as I realise it's truth
And the courage I seek becomes mine to keep
As I think of the love of my youth

La Lutte

I'm still really struggling to come to terms with this concept.
This whole idea of 'being alone'.
No matter how hard I try to express it, I can't.
And I want to... I need to.... I just... I feel... It's like... It's not... But...
You.
Every thought ends the same way.

I'm really happy.
Sometimes.
And I don't think about you.
Sometimes.
I think I'll be fine.
Sometimes.
And I know this is over.
Sometimes.

My brain is numb, and empty, but so full to bursting.
I just know that it's caving in, getting ready to crush me.
I still just feel wrong, like this isn't happening.
Like I'm not doing something right.
Like you're still mine, really.

That night, I sat and stared.
I stared at that clock, hands frozen in time.
I am that clock, stuck forever at a quarter past three.
And you are the key, you alone have the ability to make me move again.
But I know, deep down, that you are not here, and it is I who must make myself live again.

But honestly, I don't know anything.
I couldn't possibly understand these theories of love and loss and loneliness and longing.
After spending hundreds upon hundreds of days under the blissful illusion that I knew what it was to be loved, I am still none the wiser.
I don't know how to love, or when, or why, or what. Even less who.

I cannot comprehend myself. My self. Myself, alone, without you.
I thrive on memories, because you are dead, and I am dead, and new faces have taken our places.
What hurts the most, is knowing we will never again live those lives.
We are a thing of the past, from another lifetime, and right now you seem so far away.
I fight to remember every aching moment, and ache for you to remember me.
For from this moment on, we do not know each other.
We do not know anything at all.

I am lost.
My heart is my compass.
And you are my map.
And the only thing that keeps me going,
Is knowing that one day, I'll find you again.

Fini

Things I'm going to miss:

Holding your pinky finger.
Resting my hand on the crease between your ribs and your hip.
Kissing your cheekbones.
Your hot chocolates.
Going to sleep with a smile on my face.
Waking up to cute words.
Nibbling your ear.
Rolling over in the middle of the night and spooning you.
Falling asleep in the hammock.
Playing with your hair.
Sniggling under your arm.
Having your hands on my waist.
Watching funny videos and looking at stupid pictures with you.
Family dinners.
Knowing you thought I was truly beautiful.
Koala-ing.
Being Krackened.
Making plans together.
Playing video games instead of going out.
Having you to hold me and keep me safe.
Showing you off.
Knowing we were right for each other.
The way I felt when you kissed me after days of being apart.
The feeling of being a part of your family.
But more than anything,
I'm going to miss being in love with you.

Cassé

I think the hardest part is knowing that I did nothing wrong; you just don't want me any more.