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from the heart

writing that never ends

Letters To The Abyss

These words might never reach you. And even if they do, you might never take the time to read them all. But how else will you know you broke my heart? You shattered my spine, I couldn’t get back up. You made me cry for days on end. And on most mornings, when the sun was out and about, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t get out of bed because it felt like an entire building collapsed on me. It felt like if my feet hit the ground they would crumble.

If you never read these words, how else will you know that I almost loved you. I almost gave you the very breath within my lungs. How will you know that you were magic to me, that wish after wish upon shooting stars formed you. If you never read these words, how else will you ever know that my heart beat sang your name, that your eyes looked a lot like home. How will you know that each time you held me, my heart had reason to beat, you made me want to live. Your laugh was a sound I was willing to listen to for the rest of my life. You mimicked the sky, just when I thought things were ending, up came the stars to show me that there will always be light, I just needed some darkness to notice it.

But you were not the moon, because one day you left the sky and never came back. One day turned to one month which turned to endless days I couldn’t even count anymore. Your silence killed me in ways you might never understand. Ways I can’t even explain. You hurt me in ways I wanted to hurt myself, I cried my self to sleep, I spent my days in bed trying to keep myself sane, trying to keep shreds of myself alive. Trying to keep myself alive. You made me want to die, literally. I felt like I couldn’t live anymore, I felt everything around me fall and crumble I felt my whole existence fade into the nothingness of the voids.

I almost loved you, I was willing to love you. But you left, and you took the air with you, you took the colors with you, you even took the sun. But no, I do not want you back, because you never should have left in the first place.

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Rantings of a Broken Inrovert

It’s not always beautiful when I break.

I don’t poetically sit in the meadows shattering at the wrists. Its not a heroic battle for my sanity.

It’s not willing staying in bed all week. It’s not binge watching movies all night because I want to. It’s never beautiful when I break.

When my heart crumbles at my feet, when my spine to weak and numb to bend over.

It’s never beautiful when I can’t get out of my bed because it feels like a building collapsed on top of me. Because my feet believe they will shatter when they hit the ground. It’s never beautiful when I break because it’s accomplishment when I remember to drink a glass of water.

How can it be beautiful, when Its 3pm and telling my self to stop crying, telling my self it’s going to be okay. Trying to hold the few pieces I have left together.

It’s not beautiful when my body aches, but cant move because it knows its not capable anymore, how is it beauty when I can literally feel my heart hurting. When I can’t even breathe.

Because some times I can’t even write for weeks or months because the only words I have to offer the world are trapped and drowning.

But I swear I’m trying. Trying to wake up, trying to breathe, trying to just live.

I swear I’m trying to be a person. Who smiles more and goes about the day happy. I’m trying to wake my soul up.

Trying not to cry as much anymore. I’m trying not to be broken anymore. I’m trying to be stronger, to thicken my skin so I don’t bleed as much.

I can’t even share a bed with anyone, because sometimes I find myself crying at 2am and I can’t explain why, so I keep everyone away, I turn my phone off for weeks. I hide from the world because I cant let them see me like this, broken mangled, torn apart, trying to Peel my skin off trying to take my heart out of my chest because I don’t want it anymore. I don’t even think I want this life anymore, because I’m tired..

But my greatest fear, is not being able to come to the phone anymore because even though yes you do have the right number, I’m just not the person you’re trying to reach, not anymore because I’ve wandered so far off, I can’t find my way back.

Lucid

I know what it’s like to call you mine. I know what it’s like to be loved by you. To have you hold my hand and not let go. To have you kiss my forehead and remind me I’m safe. To have you ran your hand through my hair and make me giddy. I know what it’s like to have you hold me like I’m your last breath, to have you so close I don’t know where you begin and I end. I know what it’s like to hear you whisper ‘I love you’. I know what it feels to have you wake me up with hugs and kisses, closer than whispering lips on deaf ears. It’s only in my dreams when you are mine and I am yours

-TheeLadyInk

High Fever

I felt her creep into my bed. Wrap her arms around me, whisper into my ears dreams of a land forbidden. She came in slowly, gently, like a lover coming home, not wanting to wake, but make me aware of her presence.

She kissed my spine and I felt chills ran a marathon on it. She had this way with me, this grasp on me. Not pulling me, but luring me in, making me take my own steps towards her she gave my gut goose bumps.

She, is darkness, not as a reference or an analogy. I mean She Is Darkness. So she creeps into my bed, wraps her arms around me. Whispers into my ears dreams of a land forbidden.

She tells me death is like getting into a warm bed on a winter night and she doesn’t even have to convince me I’m alone, I can see it, I can feel it in my bone. It’s the end of they day, I’m alone in my bed my head buried in my pillow, my heart broken, my soul crushed, the wall watching tears roll down my face. I have no one to call, no one to text.

Everyone says “I’m here for you” but when I finally have the courage to talk about it and I call they’re busy suddenly no one has the time and I’m sorry I couldn’t schedule my breakdown at your earliest convenience. I’m sorry that I am broken and mangled.

But she rans her hand through my hair, she kisses my forehead, she makes me feel safe. And this is one of those night, when I move over, and make room for her besides me. Because she’s the only company I’ve ever truly known

Jump Ship

My first love, who was also my only love. 

I loved you, and I mean I loved you. I loved every part of you, even the parts that made me cringe. I loved you when you were at your best and I still loved you even at your very worst. I hate sweat, including my own, but somehow,  even when you were drenched in it, I would still hold on to you and love you some more. 

I learnt that love isn’t easy. There are hard days when no one wants to love but be loved. When we’ve ran out of affection to give. All the highs and lows taught me,  you don’t jump ship when there’s a little water on board. You try to save it. 

Love is like energy, it is neither created nor destroyed.

-TheeLadyInk//

(//2014journal entry//)

Moonlight and Tears

Everyone has secrets. Things they say or do that no one knows. Thoughts they keep hidden away behind barriers and high walls. 

My secret is the love affair between the moon and my tears. I now know how the tide feels, being pulled, being drawn by forces greater than your own. The moon has this hold over me. I draws me to it, pulls me out of bed, wraps it’s luminous light around me and I’m home. 

The moon knows the conversations my heart has with my mind, it knows the longing of my soul. The moon has this way with me, convincing me that sleep is for weak, so I stay awake, it’s the middle of the night and I’m counting stars, watching the spaces between them. Everyone is asleep, the world is still, that’s when the moon speaks and listens. She counts my tears, makes wishes on them and tells me shooting stars are her tears and the darker the night gets, the brighter she shines. 

In The End 

​I love myself enough,

not just for the both us,  

But for the past love I was deprived of,

for the past love no one wanted to give me,

for future love that might leave. 

I have learnt to love myself enough 

for all the times no one could love me, 

for all the moments when I realised all I had was myself. 

I’ve learnt to love myself enough to over look my imperfections, 

the things I cannot change, 

I have learnt to love myself during the cold nights when all I can do is cry, 

for the dark days when my body hurts if I move. 

I love myself enough to survive,

 to know what type of love I deserve, 

to know how I should be loved.

I love myself enough to forgive myself, 

to look at myself everyday and love myself even more. 

I love myself enough. 

Because in the end, only I can let myself down, 

and only I can pick myself back up. 

In the end, I love myself enough 

-TheeLadyInk 

One Night Stands & Drugs

I like you. You creep into my thoughts like an effortless in take of air. You flow through my veins like you are giving me life. Your name runs through my head like a catchy song,that I find myself singing out loud.

A sea of whiskey couldn’t intoxicate me as much as a drop you does. I know, because I’ve tried. I have swam in rivers of vodka to rid my skin of your name but it is etched in my bones. 

I need fire to scorch you from my heart, but I’m ice, and that would end me. I have drowned in endless rhythms that make me wonder what your heart beat would sound like under my palm, or with my ear placed above it.

I have danced with strangers looking for you in them. Hoping one of then would laugh like you, would say my name the way you do. Hoping they would hold my waist like you once did. I have searched for you in one night stands, hoping I’d wake up and not remember your name. That maybe someone would kiss me and draw your name from my lips and toss it to the wind. That my skin wouldn’t crave your touch,  that my mind would long for yours. 

Cocaine is nothing compared to what you do to me. It doesn’t even come close. There is no high better than the one I get from you,becasue when I sniff you,  you smell like Midnight and Stardust. You strum the strings of heart without even knowing it. You draw me in like I’m air, and I’m ceaselessly pulled in. 

-TheeLadyInk

Scared Soul

PicsJoin_2017411144147428The thing with scars that can’t be seen is, they are harder to heal. You can’t out a band aid over the cracks, you can’t place a cast over the broken part of your soul. When your mind hurts there’s no pain killers for it, asprin doesn’t reach that far in. You can’t pour rubbing alcohol when your heart stings.

Wounds that can’t be seen are harder to talk about. You can’t point at it like marks in your wrist and say “it hurts here”, when your inner self is mangled and bruised there is no cast for sympathisers to sign and tell you “get well soon”.

How can any Dr prescribe meds for an ailment that you can’t even explain?. the CT scan won’t show how bruised and bent your heart is. There is no MRI on the planet that will show how defeated your mind is, it won’t show the emotional tumors that are eating it away.

I don’t know how people heal. I don’t know how a torn soul can repair itself when it doesn’t have cells.

But, what I do know is. Just because you are bruised and bent, doesn’t mean you are broken. There is hope somewhere, like that one star that still shines through the clouds on a rainy night.

-TheeLadyInk

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