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from the city, with love
Writer. Thinker. Schemer. A nineteen-year-old girl with dreams and aspirations, pet peeves and bad habits, flaws and imperfections. I'm only human, and I make mistakes, I'll admit it.
Bear with me.

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then / now

When I first walked by you
Something in me stirred
Maybe it was the frantic rush
Of my heart singing
Melodies of what was to come,

We became so intertwined that
Love became everything we were
We clung to one another
As the stars cling to the sky,
As light clings to the moon,
As love clung to us.
You were my sun
And I was your universe

And now, we are nothing.
I walked by you the other day
And something in me stirred
Maybe it was the nostalgic ache
Of my heart mourning
Memories of what was,


So incredibly fucking frustrated, so incredibly ready to give the fuck up. It feels like I’m drowning. I’m so fucking unsettled. It feels like nothing is going right. I don’t know what to fucking do man. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I’m tired.

one thirty am

She sat in the driver’s seat of her car as heat blasted from the vents and a mellow instrumental blared from the speaker. Outside, the street was empty and the snow was piled high. Her eyes slid closed and her head fell against the headrest as warmth slowly crept back into her body. In here, she felt closed off from the world, safe. She could go into the house, but she preferred the solitude she got out here. Her chest heaved up and down steadily. Tiny, crystal-like snowflakes had gathered on the inside of the front window, clean and precise and beautiful. She could watch them all night.

one twenty-six am

What I had at the moment was somewhat in a state of intangibility; it belonged to me just as much as it didn’t, so I found solace in Knowing. Although the things I Knew were neither definite nor uncertain, they were all I had so I clung to them, in hopes that one day soon I would have stability and understanding along with my Knowing.

eight forty-five pm

I fear growing old without someone to love. Reaching the end and realizing that I am alone—another birthday passes and I have no one to share my year with; a walk in the park or a meal at a restaurant with myself for company; days that fade into nights that fade into days, and all along I am in the presence of absence. Expired romance, haunting memories, and the lingering nostalgic scent of past lovers and forever moments.


It is so hard to be happy for someone who has shown you that their happiness will always come before yours.


Sometimes “okay” comes in waves; one day you are, the next day you’ve succumbed to the inside of your head and no matter what you tell yourself, you just can’t seem to hold on to that “okay.” It kills you inside, but what else can you do?

Take a moment and think about someone who you’ve shared yourself with. Who knows you better than anyone else, who you began to trust despite what you’ve been through because they made you feel like they could never cut you that deep. They promise you they’ll always be there, and one day you wake up and realize that they’ve left you hanging. The understanding you thought you had was a figment of your imagination. You’re hurting, and they’re the reason why. And they don’t care. You had been bruised before and they helped stitch you back up but now you feel the pain throbbing at your wounds, ready to burst out again. How foolish of you, to be so naive. To think that it all meant nearly as much to them as it had come to mean to you. It’s painfully obvious now. You are the only one in love, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

one twenty-two am.

Four hundred twenty-three moons ago she fell in love with the crinkle in the corner of an eye and a subtle smirk. It became real when she looked into his eyes and they invited her in without a single exchange of words. They hungered for the understanding in her gaze. Within, he was fragile. Without, he was masked. Hairline fractures threatened a shattered soul and when those eyes lured her closer, she knew that her purpose must have been to help bring truth to that crinkle and substance to that smirk. Four hundred twenty-three moons ago, under the soft glow of ten million galaxies and three hundred billion stars, two halves became a whole.

"You wanna know why people hurt you? Cause they aren’t the ones who feel the pain."


Distance either makes the heart grow fonder or provides the space to forget. Sucks not knowing which you’ll get.


Part of my maturation process has been realizing that even though I’d rather be alone when I’m upset, letting someone be there for me and talking about it is good for me.


Past wounds have left scars and they’re beginning to ache again. Thought I was okay for good but when’s it ever that easy?


My intuition is screaming at me, I don’t know why I always try to drown it out. Maybe my expectations are too lofty. I have to work on that. Maybe my perception is a skipping stone away from reality. I feel like everything is so out of my control right now and it’s driving me crazy…it’s not a feeling I enjoy. So ready to just say fuck it.


I’m hurt, actually.


love…so many things i’ve got to tell you, but i’m afraid i don’t know how…