drowningpoetry:

i can’t tell if im getting better or worse. see, the aching in my heart has stopped but now my hands just cannot stop shaking. ive stopped crying everyday but now i just end up throwing things at the wall and hurting myself. my hands are rubbed raw from hanging onto the last remains of you, my legs are burning from all the running away i seem to do, and my soul is so goddamn tired. i can’t sleep it out because even in my sleep, i think of you and what i had hoped we could’ve been. i can’t stop burning my skin in the shower, i can’t stop hoping you’ll beg for me not to let go of you. i can’t stop holding on and jesus fuck more than anything, i want to let go but my hands have only ever know how to hold on as tight as possible. // tell me to let go, make this easier for me, stop making me want to hold on. i want to fucking let go.

He is exactly the poem 

i wanted to write

every word i write

feels heavy 

with the thought of you

should’ve never cared,

but I did.

a lot.

I still do.

they said one day

all of my feelings for you

would be gone, but

here i am, a year later …

with the same feelings last year.

drowningpoetry:

listen, i know it’s hard. i know some days you really would rather the sky swallow you whole, rip you apart and scatter you across the sunset. but you’re here. you are here in this big big world and i know you feel alone but that’s okay. we are alone on this world but it’s in being alone that we find the brightest, most lovely people who are there for us. i know things suck, but you have sad inside of you that’s waiting to be pulled out, and a light that is just waiting to be turned on. and within time, you’ll find that you’re shining again. because it hurts. it hurts until one day it doesn’t anymore because you ache and ache and ache until your bones are strong enough to carry you without falling over and sure maybe you still trip sometimes. but you’re here. you’re alive and that’s enough. it’s enough to just simply be alive. so breathe. you are doing so great.