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03. 04. 18

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it’s my birthday.

 

i am happy because

i am still alive.

 

i am happy because

i am becoming.

 

twenty-one years

is just a whisper to

the wind, a whisper to

the stars.

 

i have regrets but

there are still possibilities

for me waiting to be realized.

 

inhale.

exhale.

inhale.

exhale.

inhale.

exhale.

 

and feel the

breathtaking

beauty of existence.

The Architect & The Destroyer

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There are feelings inside her that don’t exist in me. She’s a very logical person, and I’m a very playful person. At first, I felt like we were alike but turns out we’re complete opposites—she thinks through things while I feel through things.

She says that I’m too young and idealistic to love her and perhaps that’s true. I am a child when it comes to love. I feel things like we’re soul mates or we both like watching the stars together and fuck that explains a lot why we’re so drawn to each other because of destiny and all that stuff.

She once asked me what love meant to me, and I said that love is the only thing that makes life less meaningless. And I held her hand and kissed it and then looked at her in the eye. “This is love,” I said quietly. And I held her face and kissed her on the forehead and then looked at her in the eye once more. “This is love,” I said again quietly.

“Love is just an illusion,” she whispered in my ear, and we made love just with our lips, and it felt like a dream for the first time that we were together. It all felt like a dream to me, but I knew that she was the one that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I just can’t explain why I had to let her go when she was the only girl who made me feel something so absolute.

“Love is just an illusion,” the very last words that she said to me when I walked out of her not so fucked up life. The very last words that brought me to an understanding that maybe love is nothing more than chemicals released in the brain that never does last forever like any kind of drug. But the thing about love is that it fucks you up eventually, and you want more of it. In good morning texts, during penetration, flowers and wandering the world together and forever.

Love is just an illusion, but it does last if you really do believe in it.

Post Valentine Poem For Gab

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I still remember
the time when we 
had our little infinity
together.

 
We were both
hospitalized due to
our suicide attempt
and I now believe that
it’s possible for people
to be strong in the most
broken places.

 
I still remember
the time when we
were having snacks
and we were only allowed
one cookie but you gave me
yours and I was an eater but
it didn’t really dawn on me that 
you liked me.

 
One night after
the rosary you told me
that you had feelings for me
and I was surprised that such
a beautiful girl like you would
fall for a weird boy like me but
I liked you back, and I was happy.

 
The doctors were
concerned that our feelings
for each other may somehow
interrupt our healing and recovery
so the nurses would separate us every
time they saw us together talking.

 
I wrote you love letters
at that place and you wrote 
a poem about Peter Pan I think
and how that was our first thing
to talk about since you knew that
I was a writer, and you wanted me
to see if it’s any good and I don’t know
if it was any good because all I could think 
about is how much I’m like Peter Pan because 
I never grow up and give up my magic.

 
You were the first to leave
that place after your few weeks of stay
and I had to stay a week longer because
they wanted to make sure that I was really
getting better and I did get better eventually
for I realized that some people really do have
it worse than me and of course I found you there
and love heals mental wounds.

 
We dated, and you gave me
my first kiss and you gave me
my second kiss and I tried to give you
what was left of my broken soul and you
didn’t put my feelings like a flower in a jacket
and I took you for granted because I was relapsing
and I had to let you go to heal, and now I’m all alone
sometimes without my depression to numb me from
the memory of you.

 
And I madly miss you 
because you were my bad days
turned into good days and every night 
I think of what it would be like to live in
a world where I never let you go and sometimes
I dream of that world and wake up to a world filled
with grief and regret knowing that maybe I’ll love you
for the rest of my fucking life and how I am possibly
eternally fucked without you.