Every day that passes is affirmation
that somewhere along the line
I made good decisions and
I’m making the best out of
the decisions I’ve made.
I’m right where I am and it doesn’t matter where I’m not.
I accept this space, this place, and I will work from here
to improve this space, this place.
Increasing what’s good. Correcting what I can. Forgiving what I can’t.
My space is declared new and clean.
I choose to be open and here.

Some nights I think about dying and some nights I think about living till I break and I didn’t know that you could cry so hard that your heart stops bleeding and still wake up the next morning until I met you and I know that kissing you will probably kill me, bury bullets beneath my skin and spit poison into my veins but I know I’ll kiss you anyway and sometimes shaky knees and feeling like you’re going to throw up and staying up so late you get sick is love and not pain but sometimes the teeth you feel when you’re kissing and the way the red of the flowers he brought you matches the red in the sink and the way the butterflies in your stomach make you feel like dying is pain and not love and either way I never know when to say goodbye so maybe you should just stay one more night
I’m trying to tell you I love you (via extrasad)
They called me cold
for closing up the way flowers do at night
when I respond to “love you’s” with “mhmm’s.” I tell them words get
stuck between my teeth and lips like ghosts trapped between two
worlds but the truth is, I buried the words in a graveyard
years ago when I discovered that “love you’s” don’t mean
“I love you” — that someone can say them to one person
and affect two. And after you’ve been victim,
been raised up only to be razed to the ground,
you start evolving defense mechanisms like cacti with their spikes
because you know scar tissue replaces skin after deep wounds
but it never heals like before. People will begin to wonder why
you can tell them where countries begin and territories end,
but can’t say “love you” to the people you love.
But that’s because you know better. You know that
there are nearly 7,000 languages in the world
but they don’t mean a thing when “love you”
is just another way of saying goodbye.
astagesetforcatastrophe, why i can’t say “love you” to the people i love

(thanks to a wonderful friend for the idea behind this)
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