Written By Me - Tumblr Posts

If I believed in god I would ask him why he did this to me.

But I do not.

If I believed in myself I would ask me how I let this happen.

But I do not

Pic via pinterest

Is it normal to grieve yourself?

And still yearn the grief?

To know you'll be eternally hurting,

Why is it such a relief?

And I wonder

Your voice so sweet through a telephone.

Your presence is a comfort, oh it feels like home.

Dancing on your roof while it's raining above.

And i wonder if you feel it grow.

Your touch like velvet, would I ever refrain?

Honey brown eyes, oh they drive me insane.

A nasty chase and we meet again.

And I wonder if you'd like to stay.

Your skin shines bright like an afterglow.

Your laugh's a symphony, oh I wish I could own.

Your love is a cure, I'm a ruined soul.

And I wonder if you'll ever know.

Tw: self harm

Broken mosaic

Broken like a mosaic, this grief is beautiful.

Cold as a grave, this silence is peaceful.

A pain drenched tartarus was what made childhood.

A longing filled asphodel is what makes life cruel.

Sinister evil spirits, they whisper in the dark.

Cold harsh voice, it will shatter up your heart.

The silence kept saying with such delicacy.

But mind kept begging for sincere secrecy.

So close your little eyes, home is full of ghosts.

Hide your own self, it is terrifying to be known.

Shred your skin, once again you'll be filled with relief.

One last cut; an eternity of sleep.

Pic via pinterest

You were like the sea

The delicate intimacy of you visiting my dreams. Only then I get to see you.

The sea, with all its hurricanes, all its storms. It reminds me of you.

Watching you fall in love and out of love. But never with me.

You were like the sea, with all its stillness. And all its peace.

My intense longing for you to stay. So hopeless yet so ardent.

Because just like the sea you were. Always changing yet so persistent.

I want to kill myself just enough for you to visit. Atleast then I'll get to see you somewhere that's not just my dreams.

What a subtle form of self harm it is to love you.

Such a gruesome death to die.

What a comfort it is to be to be loved by you.

Such a torment it is to be not.

Thorn to my rose

Pic via pinterest

In a room full of strangers, our eyes met in secrecy.

With that striking smile of yours, you simply just ended me.

Gently whispered words killed me more than any poison could.

Loved you way too fondly than any lover ever should.

In frightened voice and shaky hands, I was scared to lose you.

In granted lives and afterlife, I was never meant to have you.

What is life anymore, if not just the absence of you?

Had to watch you bleed to death, what is even left to lose?

Once again in life I am terrified to let you close.

You were my known ruin. A lethal thorn, my gentle rose.

Future love

Perhaps one day you'll hold me, once and forever.

Intoxicated we will be, lost in each other.

And then in the dark, you will touch the right parts of me.

In hushed tones I will show you, that you and I were meant to be.

Then slowly I will learn, how to truly love me.

And gently I will heal, like all my grief ceased to exist.

Tw: self harm, self loathing

A girl lies on her bedroom floor.

She bleeds through her eyes and cries through her veins.

I watch her helplessly and let her fall apart.

Everyday she fights long lost battles and dies gruesome deaths.

Her life is nothing but a grave full of dead hopes.

I watch her and do nothing.

Perhaps because there isn't much left of her to be saved.

She is covered in bruises I don't recognize her anymore.

I watch her with curiosity.

Her eyes dark and cold like the night itself, she reeks of misery.

A home full of ghosts, none of them remotedly as dead as her soul.

I watch her mercilessly.

After all that's what monsters like her deserve.

I say, and I stop watching her.

No part of her deserves to be loved.

I say, and I step away from the mirror.

If to love is to rest then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

The worst thing you ever did was to make me believe I could be loved

Pic via pinterest

To simply exist in all her devotion.

Dear universe

At 13 I thought that the universe hates me. For it made me tainted and it made me unlovable. Perhaps it was true; or perhaps I was just 13. Now I finally see that there are things that actually love me.

The darkness holds me still and grief kisses my hand. The demons in my head tell me it'll be fine. And hunger kind of always stays along with this unbearable ache. Longing lingers like a lonely child and sinister thoughts eat me up inside. Years of misery and wishing to be dead. Screams of terror and weeps of fate. But dear universe I wont complain. For dear universe I still am loved.

If life is a cold, harsh night

You are the moon that makes it bearable

For what other thing would thrive?

Even in the most monstrous forms of dark?

If to love is to rest

Then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know?

Than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

If to long is to grieve

Then I shall make home of a funeral

For what harsher grief it is?

Than to irreversibly lose someone

The Flower Shop Boy

Part 1

The light that flitted through the window showed the tiny particles that were floating through the air, but those tiny particles remained invisible to all except the one person who happened to be paying close attention. Jasmine was admiring it for her it was currently her source of entertainment as she was hunched over the counter, head resting on her right palm, her elbow steady on the material she had yet to identify that made up her solid counter space. Though her surroundings were beautiful and filled with flowers on display, her work made this a daily view that she had essentially numbed herself to. But it was a grand sight for it brought in many types of customers. But instead of seeing what others saw, her mind was trying to make sense of what was floating in the air and why she had never noticed these tiny details before.

Jasmine enjoyed her job enough – working at this mom and pop type of flower shop – and with her other job being part-time a couple of times during the week, she was able to make ends meet. But it did not stop her mind from wondering if she was ever going to be able to go to college like she had always thought she would. Her grand “life plan.”

Life had other ideas; it essentially had a huge hiccup that caused her to go straight to work after high school instead of going to college like most of the people she knew. And she was okay with that. She didn’t regret the choices she made, but it did come with some ‘what ifs.’ She was at the age where most people were at least a couple years into their degrees, so their experiences were vastly different. They had different issues, different thoughts, different… everything. Sometimes she felt disconnected but at the same time, she was more content than most people.

The only way anything ever lacked was her interactions with others. She had plenty of customer service type of situations and opportunities to have some decent conversations if she truly pursued it, but it was the more honest personal level that she seemed to miss. Especially when it came to possible romantic-type of interactions.

She had told herself time and again that she was okay with that. Jasmine didn’t really have time to put that much effort into something so consuming. She needed to have a more steady foothold in the world – a more dependable income could be good – before truly wanting to devote herself to such a turmoil of emotions.

Jasmine could not help but smile a little bit knowing how she refers to the madness that is supposedly love. It seemed like a lot of work and upkeep and it just wasn’t-

A ding from the bell that resided above the door made her snap out of her thoughts and stand straight as she wiped the front of her apron to smooth away crinkles that weren’t even there. A smile graced her face as she went into her ‘attentive representative’ mode.

It was a couple of young girls whose eyes wandered around the store in awe followed by a young man. Jasmine’s attention went first to the girls who immediately squealed as they came in and rushed to a section of flowers on display that stated: “An Amazing Sale You Cannot Pass Up.” Their attention was fully focused as the young man tended to have a much slower and laid-back pace, almost making her think that he was possibly talked into coming in – or at least that was what Jasmine thought. He didn’t seem to quite follow them but she assumed he was with them. A young man his age didn’t just stroll around by himself in the flower shop anymore.

She quickly went to the girls to see if they had any questions or if there was anything they needed help with as they figured out what exactly they wanted. These young girls did not disappoint. They immediately asked questions about what they would need to do if they wanted flowers or other general inquiries that normally came from young women who don’t come in often. Situations like these made Jasmine smile genuinely. They were nice to work with and had actual intentions of purchasing something. She didn’t mind those who came to just look and admire their handiwork around the store, but she felt like she was much more useful if there was an actual transaction that came from it.

“The gentleman that came with you, do you want him here to hear this as well,” Jasmine asked, realizing he was still just wandering around and not paying attention.

The two girls brought their heads together and giggled, glancing towards him every few moments. “Oh, he isn’t with us. Just a coincidence.”

Jasmine’s eyes grew wide with surprise for a moment as she quickly turned to him, an apology on her lips. But it died off as she finally fully looked at him. His face seemed mature, a very handsome look that was softened by the smirk that graced his appearance as he was absorbed by the flowers he was observing. Some of his hair fell in front of his eyes, but it didn’t seem to bother him much as he absentmindedly brushed it away, his full attention elsewhere.

He was beautiful.

She had to blink a few times before realizing she was just starring and embarrassment took over for a brief second. Jasmine realized no one caught her error so she was able to catch herself again and finished her original intent. She cleared her throat, catching his attention. “I am so sorry. I’ll be with you in a moment if you have any questions.”

He threw her an understanding smile and a nod, acknowledging her before his attention was back in front of him as he reached up to softly touch a petal.

The action seemed so… delicate. Jasmine bit her lip trying to not let another smile pass by that would give her away as she turned back to the girls. She could not help but notice that as she was taking their order and jotting down their information, they kept glancing in his direction. It was confirmed; she was not the only one that found him attractive.

Perfectly Imperfect

I never understood the passion with which people seek perfection.

I always believed in human imperfection.

Two pointy big ears framing a large hooked nose. A pair of furry brows hiding two discolorated irises. An upper lip,slightly thiner,covering some crooked front teeth.

A discoloration in your skin,looking like a painting. A dissimilarity in your haircut,pushing your hair to be seen. The stretch marks on your back from getting too tall too fast.

An ‘ugly’ laugh that’s as easy to identify as to breathe. The singing voice of an angel hidden inside a wolf.

Your beauty can’t be seen by everybody. But why the hell would that mean you are not beautiful?

Dedicated to a tall boy with stretch marks handpainted on his lower back 

[20:50] It sucks to be the only one left behind. People moving forward and you are strapped down by force of mind and by force of nature, your own mind trapping you in an endless spiral of self-hate. No one seems to aknowledge your mair existence, let alone your fears and needs and the tears skimming down your face night by night. 

I have been the strong one for so long. I can not take it anymore. And if someone does not notice it soon enough, I’ll explode,and my blood and my insides will spill on your feet and you’ll have to ask where did you go wrong, what did you not do right. 

Cause you’ll have my blood on your collarbones and my throbbing heart in your palm.

PLEASE END THIS TORTURE 

Oh no

my thoughts are slipping

out of my ears and my eyes and my mouth

they fill the room

and I can't breathe

- Melita

𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

in Hajime's head it would have always been them together. That was until their high school graduation, when she got semi-famous, and he got distant. what happens when all of a sudden, shes performing at the club he bar-tends at?

a/n: my first series!! if you want to be added to the taglist send an ASK. it's an all written series, maybe some smau things, (instagram and twitter parts have a hard maybe to be being added) may be slow updates, feel free to send ideas once the first official part comes out!!

taglist(open!!) : 0/50

status: ongoing

prologue.