(via poemswords)
The Blogger
Blog Status
How to add stats on your blog? Ctrl + F then type Blog status. Then edit this area to whatever you like.
Put Something Here
Put Something Here
Put Something Here
Disclaimer
All images and notes found in my blog are all mine except for those I reblog. Similarities and copying of any content in my blog without any permission is strictly prohibited. If you will use any of the content in this blog, you must give me some credits or use my blog as the source. Thank you for understanding. Good day.
Theme Credits
Theme made by DakilanggerlprenCursor made by Dakilanggerlpren
Optimize for Chrome Users
All Rights Reserved 2014 ©
— next
“And today I saw the sunset from one of the best locations I could, it was an arduous process to see the setting sun and not reminisce of the times we had seen it together, yet it still looked the most beautiful, even without you.”
“Today, I saw the sunrise light up the sky from my bed at the corner of my room, and although it hurt to look at the rising sun while trying not to think of all the tomorrows we won’t have, it still looked hopeful, even without you.”
“And today I saw the sun set from my bedroom window, diminishing light giving way to the orangish glow soon to be faded, I felt heavy as another day ended, and thoughts encircling all that we couldn’t be, I hoped for better tomorrows, even without you.”
“Today, I saw the sun rise from atop a hill overlooking a view, and as the horizon gave way for light to shine through, I felt a small whisper of hope as I saw the world was still beautiful, even without you.”
“And today I saw the sun set in the rearview mirror as I drove back home where you no longer awaited my return, and yet as the sun’s rays waned into the darkness I felt a certain calm, even without you.”
“Today, I saw the sun rise across the pavement as I carried my bags filled with memories of us to my car, and as I drove away from the home we made and shared, it felt safe to someday love again, even without you.”
“And today I saw the sun set as I entered the place where you used to wait with open arms, emptiness greeted me, as daylight dwindled into a darkness, which for once I embraced, even without you.”
“Today, I saw the sun rise across the tiles of my new living room, empty except for a couch made for two, and as I stood by the door taking in the view, I saw the start of something new, even without you.”
“And today I saw the sun set over my bedroom window as I prepared my dinner, without you to guide me I burned my hand, albeit the pain was nothing as compared to that of losing you, still it was bearable, even without you.”
“Today, I saw the sun rise over the kitchen as I made breakfast, unwittingly setting a table for two, and although the sight me stop, felt my breath catch, I learned I could carry on, even without you.”
“And today I am seeing the sun set in front of my eyes, which have tears that won’t stop, I’ve finally started living, for the first time, even without you.”
“Today, I’m seeing the sun rise in front of my eyes, and in one breath of fresh morning air, I let you go and finally start living again, even without you.”
- DG (Sunsets) & Calg (Sunrises)
A beautiful collab with the awesome @chameleon-g =’)
(via poetryportal)
And suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore, not really knowing her, not knowing anything. He wanted to ask her every single question that seeped into his thoughts like a drop of ink spreading in a glass of clear water, he wanted to unravel her secrets like the spider web they were, keeping him glued in place until they eventually ate him up from the inside. He wanted to know why she always wore the same silver necklace and what it meant to her, wanted to know why her favourite colour was blue and why she hated red, and why she’d dyed her hair the shade of a raging fire two years ago when she could’ve turned it the colour of the ocean or the sky. Why she preferred winter to summer, why she was always upset in the middle of August and why she never went to bed early when her eyes were always bloodshot. He wondered how she could stare at people like they were art when so much in this world went wrong and how she could write about friends who had abandoned her and boys who had broken her heart like they were a lesson she gladly accepted. How she could compare that vile boy next door to thunder and coffee and flowers and whole galaxies while she seemed so lost in a dimension only known to her. And most of all he wanted to know why she kept so many secrets and why she didn’t trust him enough to unburden her heart, worry for worry, secret for secret. But he guessed that was just part of her, a part he would never fully comprehend: some mysteries weren’t meant to be understood. They were meant to be seen and examined and admired. She was one of them.
Because the one thing they don’t tell you about writers is that it’s all they are.
You start with a pen and paper and then the ink is in your veins and books are your heart and the only thing you breathe is literature. The words become your soul and poetry coats your skin
If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher.
Before you know it it’s 3 am and you’re 80 years old and you can’t remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart.
