#excerpts of stories
At the end high school graduations they should line all the graduates up in front of a gate, ready to bust out into the “real world.” Just before the gates open someone should say, “Welcome to life. It’s wonderful to have you. Please clean up your messes and own your shitty choices. Please understand that you are entitled to nothing and will need to work for everything. Be nice to one another. Love one another. This life is harsh and brutal and only compassion can make it better.”
Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #203
I miss your handwriting. Is that weird? That I miss the way you wrote my name and the slanted and angular way you wrote the words that both stole and broke my heart.
Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #202
There is a certain point when hi means I love you. I miss you. Say something. I don’t know what to say. We are broken and battle scarred. I don’t know what I’m doing in life. There is a certain point when hi means more than hello.
Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #200
Seeing you undid a year and a half of getting over you, and I honestly expected nothing less.
Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #205
i guess this is why they call it a ‘break up’ because everything inside me feels like it’s shattering to pieces.
the weight of my great grandmother’s burden perches itself on my chest and blows insecurities onto my chin.
it resembles the weight of the sky on my shoulders; the eyes of everyone i’ve loved staring at me with something akin to disappointment.
the generational curses drowning me; they all want me to be perfect.
mirrors show my skin is blue, devoid of my scarlet dreams. my desires have become a river of longing; i drown every day.
they sent me to the bottom of the ocean with the stones they have sewn into the pockets of my coat long before i was even born - they say that’s how you learn to swim, little one; you just have to be too afraid to drown.
- generational trauma of women
i’m laying on his bed;
but all i can think about is the tiny bit
of wallpaper that is scraping off
in the corner by your bedroom door.
he’s cradling my fingers;
but all i can think about is the time
we were talking about the universe and
you absent-mindedly started
tracing stars on my hand.
he’s nuzzling my neck;
but all i can think about is the beautiful mark
you left on my collarbone after we got drunk
at 3am and snuck onto your neighbour’s roof.
he’s caressing my cheek;
but all i can think about is the cold touch
of your fingers that night and
i knew that you had slipped into the darkness
again
and my thighs weren’t warm enough for you.
he’s kissing my lips;
but all i can think about is the curve on your upper lip
and the time we made out for hours
and how you left a horrible taste in my mouth afterwards
because you had gone through two packs of marlboro that day
and how i stayed
even though you gave me every reason to leave
and now i can’t be in bed with a beautiful boy
who likes the way i speak
because all i can think about
is how chapped you left me,
just like your lips.
when you miss their hands on your thighs,
but not the way they never called you before going to bed;
it’s not real.
when you miss their fingers through your hair,
but not how they stayed up playing video games all night
instead of lying next to you;
it’s not real.
when you miss the longing stares shared at 3am
on their tiny bed, but not the crease around their eyes
as they tried to say sorry for the thousandth time;
it’s not real.
when you miss their legs wrapped around your waist,
but not their pleading voice as you walked out their door;
it’s not real.
it’s not real.
it’s not real.
it’s not real if you just miss their skin pressed against yours,
but fail to remember the many nights you spilled
your guts out onto the bathroom floor;
the nights you held them because the world was caving in
and they looked at you with soulless eyes;
the words that you threw like daggers
and your shared bed became a battle ground
and your love bites turned into defeated wounds;
it’s not real.
stop convincing yourself that it ever was.
the darkness, the madness
i’m attracted to the sadness
the discomfort in your eyes
every time your heart aches
the pain makes you insane
fills every corner of your brain
i want you under my veins
but i try so hard to refrain
mama told me to watch my steps
when it came to demons like you
but you take my breath away
every time you walk into the room
but you’re the devil fighting your demons
which makes you an angel in my eyes
you’re so lost, yet to serene
digging deep ends for a way to survive.
- i think your sad eyes are kinda nice | @heavyemptyheart
i’ve been swallowing cigarettes with coffee for breakfast
and i can’t remember the last time someone told me they loved me.
i went from humming in the shower to crouching on the tiled floor heaving my lungs out
not knowing where my tears began and the water ended.
i always say goodbye to my loved ones as if that’s the last time i’m gonna see them
because
i forget to look either ways before crossing the road nowadays and
find myself almost wishing to never make it to my destination
while i’m inside a car or a plane.
i read somewhere that “you never know when the bus is coming”
so i think since then a part of me has been living in a way
as if i’m always expecting for the bus to hit
some days it’s
‘i better do everything that makes me happy and
tell everyone i love them before it hits me’
but
more often than not
it’s
‘why hasn’t it hit me yet.’
i want coffee runs at midnight
and random texts at 3 pm
about dumb things that
go through your head during the day.
i want horror movies while you
cover your eyes and recoil behind my shoulders
but insist that you weren’t that scared
when i call you out on it.
i want getting lost in a foreign city
and our phones are out of battery
and all we have is each other
and the beautiful alien scenery
as we try to find our way back.
i want petty fights about mundane things
and screaming at each other
and slamming of doors
but i become yellow
when you are red
brightening up your dark days
and you love me all the same.
i want awkward first times
while our mixed anxiety
and hesitation
strangles us up in a corner
but a brief eye contact
puts both our demons at ease
and the world feels much lighter.
i want spending hours in museums
trying to find the perfect artefact
that we can make a meme out of
and the security guard gives us a warning stare
as we run through greek sculptures
amongst the gods and the semi-humans
all the greatest tragedies and love sonnets in one room.
then there is you
then there is me
trying to find a middle between
two extremes.
- i want all the good, the bad, and the ugly. // @heavyemptyheart
“When I was a little girl, I thought that love had to be delicate and fragile, similar to a flower. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that love can be different. It can be like a firework, explosive and bright. It can be raw, passionate, wild. Maybe even dangerous or reckless, but you shouldn’t be scared to fall in love. You are made of flesh and bone and muscle, and you are strong enough to handle any type of it.”
An excerpt from ‘Dreams and stones’ by Magdalena Tulli
“You know, I don’t want to be like this, too. I’m trying, and I know some people haven’t seen me do that. Because sometimes it’s not visible to anyone.” he said. “I wanted to be so in love with life that I will have no more time to overthink about what will come next. I wanted to have a clear mind that there’s no more chance for me to worry about anything.” he almost laughed, then continued, “I mean, who would never want that?”.
I don’t want to tell you, but here // ma.c.a
“And I realized that what I want to end is not my life.” she said. “But what makes me hate living.”
It’s that time of the year // ma.c.a
And if you could find something to admire about someone else, I hope you’ll at least try to do the same thing—to yourself.
why would it be so hard? // ma.c.a
Sometimes it’s going to be suffocating but give yourself some time to breathe. You’re moving according to your own timeline and no one can do it best except for you.
Beautiful things take time // ma.c.a
“There is a kind of light you can only find in the dark.”
— c.v (confidently lost)
“slowly moving on”
“stagnant”
“nothing lasts forever” [edit]
“nothing lasts forever”
“was it all in my head” [edit]
“deluded daydreamer”
“only a matter of time”
“self-care isn’t selfish”
“self-inflicted”
“unrequited”
“the v o i d”
And he just shouted:
“Everywhere I look, it’s you. Every place I turn, it’s you. Every thought I think, it’s you. Every great memory I have, it’s you.
You know what the saddest part is ?
For you, it’s not me.”
And she stood there.
In silence.
It had all been said.
Excerpt #333
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
“I always believed that I was unbreakable, or at least that my heart was.” She laughed quietly and glanced down at me. Her tone was light, but her eyes held a damp light. “You see, I always believed that I would never give my whole heart to anyone, that I’d never give anyone that power” she smiled. “Well, no. I believed that whoever I did choose to give my heart to, would be the ONE person who would never break it.”
“We’re you right?”
“No”
Excerpt from a book I will never write #1380
I could fall into your trap at the snap of a hand but you’d let me go before I even land.
Excerpt from a book I will never write #1381
