bonnie

there is always somebody else to call

phone beeps in the middle of the night 

and my heart jumps

drunken voice mails from my best friend

at the end he just screams “LOVE!”

not bothering with ‘I’ or ‘you’

ashtrays full of vogue cigarette butts

- all mine

dark circles under my eyes and 

the hollows beneath them

i only cried that first night

phone beeps in the middle of the day

and i don’t bother searching through my bag to find it

knowing my life is the only life that has changed

i wake before 6am every day

listen to my mother:

making breakfast,

opening the garage door,

driving away.

that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach

constant since sunday

the way you leaned against me in the hallway

(before i walked away)

the empty sound of the door closing

Things I Don't Understand And Definitely Am Not Going To Talk About

jennabee:

thingsidontunderstandand:

• How to quit.
• Who to call. (When to call.)
• How much to tell you.
• Always.

catherine pierce, "this is not an elegy"

youarebonbon:

At sixteen, I was illegal and brilliant, 
my fingernails chewed to half-moons. 
I took off my clothes in a late March 
field. I had secret car wrecks, 
secret hysteria. I opened my mouth 
to swallow stars. In backseats 
I learned the alchemy of guilt, lust, 
and distance. I was unformed and total. 
I swore like a sailor. But slowly the cops 
stopped coming around. The heat lifted 
its palms. The radio lost some teeth.

Now I see the landscape behind me 
as through a Claude glass—
tinted deeper, framed just so, bits 
of gilt edging the best parts. 
I see my unlined face, a thousand 
film stars behind the eyes. I was 
every murderess, every whip-
thin alcoholic, every heroine 
with the silver tongue. Always young 
Paul Newman’s best girl. Always 
a lightning sky behind each kiss.

Some days I watch myself
in the third person, speak to her 
in the second. I say: I will 
meet you in sleep. I will know you 
by your stillness and your shaking. 
By your second-hand gown. 
By your bruises left by mouths
since forgotten. This is not
an elegy because I cannot bear 
for it to be. It is only a tree branch 
against the window. It is only a cherry 
tomato slowly reddening in the garden. 
I will put it in my mouth. It will 
be sweet, and you will swallow.

You are in this world to love someone.

align:

stare-at-walls:

You are in this world to love someone. Find that someone and love them until you can’t feel anything anymore. It’s worth the pain. It’s worth the time. It’s worth giving up every piece of dignity you have. Even if it makes you look like a fool. Even if it makes you look stupid in everyone else’s eyes. Don’t ever ever ever listen to what they tell you or what they make you feel. Because in the end, we all go through the same thing. We love and hurt. We love and die. Loving is never really owning. Loving is giving everything you can and trying to give everything you cannot. You must never expect anything in return if you love. Love with all your heart and if he cannot give anything in return, learn to accept that and wait for your love to fade. Never ever hope for love to vanish. Because I tell you, it won’t. When you love someone, it will never go away. It will just fade. There will always be a little piece of your heart that will yearn for him. You cannot make it go away. You have to accept things for what they are and what they are meant to be. Learn to let go and move on. Learn to remember the good things that you’ve shared with him, even if it’s not mutual. Learn to remember the way he smells, the way his eyes look when he’s happy, the way he smiles, the way he laughs, the way he walks, the way he talks, the way he says hello and the way he says good bye. Don’t forget the memories just because he cannot give anything in return. Look back and remember the good things because in the end it’s always the good things that matter, not the bad.

Learn to face rejection with dignity and grace. It will make you stronger.

(via here)