because getting comfortable with someone is hard,

and finding someone who is comfortable with you is just as hard


its scattered everywhere, like pieces of puzzles. some under the sofa, some under the table, some is just somewhere invisibly, comfortably, nestled. 

everything is a blur, and everywhere is a sore. i feel like i've been running for a marathon, the problem is i don't know where its going to end; or do i really want the prize. 

i find myself looking and finding. i guess the deeper the water, the darker it gets. 

i hate myself for hurting you, and i hate you for hurting me. we keep throwing knives at each other, and we both keep acting like we are good at seizing them. we are both bleeding, we just don't know how to stop. partly because we have no other choices, partly because we think its worth it, mostly because we think we are the only one who bleed.

it's like i know i am not enough for you, so i end up blaming myself, and i don't know how to handle the guilt so i end up blaming you too, and you end up being hurt, and the cycle continues. its like there's no ending, or maybe i just don't want to try to end it. because i don't know how to, and i know you won't understand anyway.

it's dark, all the lights are out, and we decide to close our eyes. because it's not dark enough, it never is.



these past weeks have been rough. i keep letting myself go downhill, and i am afraid i will go back to how i used to be. which is ridiculous considering i have ran 3000 miles away to get better. but i guess the idea of running away is a joke in the first place, because i didn't fix what needed to be fixed, i just left it broken.

i locked myself away last week from everyone. from the people who care about me, and until now i'm not exactly sure why. but i suppose thats what i do best: i push people away. i am a broken vase, a sinking boat. what i mean is: let me piece together the glasses, let me repair my leaks. what i mean is: they deserve better. they deserve someone who won't be too busy saving herself. 

what i mean is: i have never been decent for anyone, i am too complex for anyone to figure out. what i mean is: i keep telling people that i come second. what i mean is: i succeeded. i'm always a second choice. always. 

its not like they are wrong anyway. i was the one who made myself a second choice for everyone, because i put myself behind a wall nobody can break through. but these days it gets really tiring. i want someone to lean on, someone who gets it. but at the same time i know i don't deserve anyone; i  will end up being the one who receives. giving someone else a piece of affection when i can't even properly love myself is somewhat impossible; they deserve better. they do.

so cheers to the lonely hearts,
you need you the most

"thats the problem with putting others first; you've taught them that you come second"


For Grace, After A Party - Frank O'Hara

For Grace, After A Party
Frank O’Hara

You do not always know what I am feeling.
Last night in the warm spring air while I was
blazing my tirade against someone who doesn’t
me, it was love for you that set me

and isn’t it odd? for in rooms full of
strangers my most tender feelings
writhe and
bear the fruit of screaming. Put out your hand,
isn’t there
an ashtray, suddenly, there? beside
the bed? And someone you love enters the room
and says wouldn’t
you like the eggs a little

different today?
And when they arrive they are
just plain scrambled eggs and the warm weather
is holding.

* * *

"And someone you love enters the room
and says wouldn’t
you like the eggs a little

different today?
And when they arrive they are
just plain scrambled eggs and the warm weather
is holding."

* * *
i know their names, but it still feels like a room full of strangers. it gets noisier, and i feel a little lonelier. not in a bad way i suppose, maybe not even strange. maybe because they're all the same, they are just plain scrambled eggs. 
i feel so guilty i can't even look at you. i can't even eat properly, nor can i focus on things. but how can i apologise to you over something you have no idea about?


I want to write you a song.

I want to lend you my coat
One that's as soft as your cheek
So when the world is cold
You'll have a hiding place you can go
I want to lend you my coat

I want to build you a boat
One as strong as you are free
So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink
You know it won't
I want to build you a boat

ps: liams lines are as sweet as he is


i am drawing a line between us, and its not because the things that are between us. its the opposite. 

its the opposite. 


Sometimes i wonder why it matters to me.