I’ve read countless of hopeful stories about people finding their other halves. I never saw relationships that way.
It’s a peculiar feeling when your walls are painted white once again and you see how many boxes seven years can fit into.
I told her I felt hollow on the inside. That if I were to tap my sternum all it would do is echo.
I believe in songs on the radio. In shuffle. In chance giving you all the signs you could possibly want.
As you were leaving you asked if there was anything else I wanted to tell you. I said no. There are times I have so much to say I can feel it crawling up my throat but nothing comes out.
A scarless pain with too many metaphors to pick from.
I told you, right now, I couldn’t be your forever. We talked about if animals understood forever. Because, so far, every forever we’ve heard has always ended.
My sternum became protruded with all the forgotten love in strangers.
Dear Catty Girls. I wonder what you think when you see yourself in the mirror while you’re brushing your teeth in the morning.
There was a time when a grey morning sky convinced our eyes to shut and our limbs to intertwine.