I want to see the world through your eyes. I want to know what it is like to be unnoticed, to know how the wind can feel without running through it. I want to see how you see me, not as what everyone wants me to be, but just as I am. Just as me.
Inside the Artist #2
Would you still love me knowing you could never make me happy? Or is that too much to ask for?
Six feet under
I love you, and I know I will not regret it.
Every time we talk
You wouldn’t know how good I am at lying until you give me a reason to trust you.
I don’t even trust myself
Love isn’t a lie. It’s something that can mask just how unhappy you really are while saying you are the happiest you’ve ever been.
After I broke up with him
I hate myself because no one has ever cared enough to teach me why I should love it.
Then I met you
I love the wind bringing me along with it was my feet and legs work together with my arms, turning over at a rate so fast it acts as my own heart beat. Pain that will only last for at least 20 minutes welcomes me in a strong embrace that I will kindly welcome, leaving the door open as long as it will come and go. I work for that pain so I can receive the pride of winning personal battles. Personal records will always come and go, but running will always be my one true love. For it works with my whole body, it tells me that it loves me, giving good days with good runs. Others I will get scolded for even trying to put on spikes that many other great runners have worn before, because my time is not now and will not happen. I must be ready to achieve the level of greatness that my love wants for me. My love makes me a lion, a hunter, but also a gazelle, gracefully adapted to what I know to do. My first love will give me gifts, perseverance and stamina to complete my goals, because he only wants the best for me. But he will also make my days difficult and proud. Giving me reason to continue going ahead. To continue to love him.
Why I run
"Everything I let go of to forget you came back the second you said 'hey'."
-2 A.M. Thoughts (via. Wounded-Writing)
The shower is the only place I don’t crave your touch. The warmth of the water is the only thing that reminds me of your body on mine.
I miss you
Your eyes are the sky. Your voice is the earth. And your hug is what keeps me grounded.
Before you left