mmrs.

I remembered that time

I took the bus to your house in the

dead of winter and how

the bus got stuck on a hill for

fifteen minutes and how when

I got to your house

my anger melted like the snow

on my boots

and none of it;

the cold,

the people,

none of it mattered anymore

when I crawled into bed with you and

placed my cold

hands and feet

upon your back.

Oh how you would

squeal and scold me before

wrapping your arms around me.

I tried to sleep but started crying instead.

I thought of him and the tears won't stop.

I thought of how you would grab at my hands and put them on your body.

My little fucking hands.

I can't stop crying.

I want to kill you for killing me.

I'm sick and tired of hurting all the time.

Did you feel like a fucking man?

I'm forever a lost little girl.

I need to be found.

every day I fucking think about you.

and every day I wish to talk to you.

now I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes

wishing I didn't talk to you.

it's still not easy on me.

i'm trying to get over you.

i'm trying.

There was no real connection there for me.

Just raw, heated sex.

Let's not complicate things with words.

We know where we stand.

whether the weather.

Autumn brings the romantic out of me more than ever.

It's just hard to look outside and see all the beautiful colours and know that I won't have anyone to share it all with.

the cure for the pain is in the pain.

My stomach twisted when I saw you come online.

I already miss you like crazy.

Just promise me it wasn't something I did...

God, I miss you.

I feel like fucking shit.

Just got to keep telling myself it's better this way.

I didn't want this...I didn't want this at all.

with eyes wide shut.

I've felt like shit for two months.

But all of it together doesn't compare to how shitty I feel now.

I can't even look at the picture of you on my bedside table.

sticky honey.

I hate the way the world makes me feel.

Like I'll never be good enough.

That I'll never look good enough.

In my own home I am the happiest because

I don't have the "norms" being shoved down my throat.

In my own home I choose what surrounds me.

In my own home I believe I am truly beautiful,

and gorgeous,

and everything someone deserves to feel.

And then I step out of my door and every last bit

of confidence is fucking stripped from me.

Should I worry? Probably not.

Will I sit around in silence and wring my hands about it? Most definitely.

I hate being the bottom of your priorities.

I don't expect to be top thing, but you have to learn to sacrifice.

machine head.

dancing with you last night was the cherry on top.

hahaha