A story worth telling đź–¤
Thinking about you is like being on top of the highest building in the world. My breath catches, my palms are sweating, the tears in my eyes are forming, and I don't know my way out safely.
By Angel Adagio2 years ago in Poets
For once, talking to someone doesn't feel like a competition where I am losing to myself and the other person revels in seeing me crumble.
I was once in a room speaking to some friends about the incoming ruler of the land. I had yet to meet them but had heard that they were a scary force to be reckoned with.
By Angel Adagio2 years ago in Writers
I play pretend just so your version of events can see the spotlight, but you and I both know this is just a fantasy. You love who you're with until they bring out a mirror to reflect everything back at you,
The night before you left this world, I dreamt of you. You smiled at me and turned into a dove. At the time, I didn’t know that that would be my goodbye to you in this life.
The kindest souls don't deserve the torment, leave that for the people who only want to make others suffer on purpose. The hearts of kind people can only take so much,
I sit with my pen and paper, and nothing happens. All the stories I want to tell and the things I need to say, I can't. My hands are stuck. The paper is blank.
It’s like fire, nurture it and it grows, leaving it alone, it’ll fizzle out. I guess that’s the metaphor of my heart. I have loved so hard that only I get burned. Everyone else never gets close enough to want me.
I retraced my steps to find you, but you still weren’t there. At least, not in the way I remember. The version of you I remember would never have made me feel less than human,
I should have known better than to fall for yet another one, the one that makes all the promises and they all seem so perfect.
I’m mourning what we used to be. The part of the story you said you were to me. But now, I feel like nothing more than a stubborn sore on you that you’re trying desperately to get rid of.
You fantasized me in your arms when really, our songs weren’t playing to the same beats. I knew my melodies by heart, you were still trying to find what key you were in.
