lilithissad

[lilithissad]

𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴;

I wasn’t all that young; nineteen sat on an uncomfortable folding chair that wobbled every time I moved—not ideal for someone like me. I could barely keep my leg straight half the time, bouncing off the ground uncontrollably as I stared into a crackling fire. 

I didn’t know what to think as I watched the laughter erupt around me—smiling at the loud voices, random bursts of singing, and questioning comments that boomed from around the fire. I don’t even remember why it had felt the way it did; my heart that day was calmer than the tides.

I remember the stars in the sky, each individual dot I followed; tracing my finger down and across the same sky, making constellations only I could see. The heat of the fire burned my tanned skin, the smoky and sharp scent of burning wood engraving itself into everything I own. I honestly thought I would catch on fire, considering how close I was to the burning middle. 

I looked towards people I’ve only known for at least a few months and wondered how we all got here, in the same backyard with smoke to our faces like chimneys. Screaming incoherent things across the field as our smoke collides with that of the fire pit. 

I didn’t think that would change, that the painful world would continue its horrid dealt hands. I didn’t think my life would change this quickly. It felt like my life had just begun, and I continued to ask myself how life had turned out this way. I remembered when everything wasn’t so difficult; when there wasn’t a girl sitting in a bathroom stall in my life to break my heart. I remember the last time my mother and I got along, the times when going to the park was the only way I could cope with the insane loneliness, and the last time I truly felt joy. At the end of the day, I had the fumes to keep moving.

I didn’t care about much nor do I remember how I ended up finding somewhere to crash. I had the stars, the moon, the fumes, and the laughter to surround me that night. It was our last moments together, an era ending so soon before it had started entirely. 

They tried saying goodbye to me at least five times that week–I’d laugh about it to this day. I’d always find my way back to them as if fate had finally decided to give me some sort of break. I took every opportunity I could to stay by everyone’s side for as long as the world would give me. I wanted nothing more than for time to stop turning; for the world to be put on pause, leaving only us in its wake. 

The midnight air was cool, blowing against the multi-coloured poles of the once crowded playground. I could still hear the tangled screams and laughs that echoed against what were once pink and white buildings. For a second I thought I could see myself running, up and down the slides and watching kids follow after me with a proud smile on my little face. I heard my high-pitched voice commanding orders to the little kids as if I was more than just a girl they met on the swings; I was older than them–wiser definitely. I ruled the playground with the broadest grin, pride dripping off my confidence as wide young eyes stared in awe. I knew it was just a game though it didn’t matter to me. At least I was happy. I looked back at the last of us left that night, underneath the same set of metal and plastic I grew up in–they made the final walk home with me. 

It left a sad smile painted on my face, as tears that once fell dried on my cheek against the crisp air. I promised I would find my way back again as I did during our last moments on that bug-infested hill. I’ll keep these promises so long as my memories stay unforgotten. I promise that as long as fumes infest my lungs I’ll make it back to you.

#my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #sad thoughts

[lilithissad]

𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴;

You are the flowers that grow in my head; the wildflowers of memories that submit this lonely lost child into a place of honest laughter. Masks don’t exist in the garden, and tears are only used to water life into ours. 

We sobbed throughout the week, extending our times together as if the world would end and there would be none of us left. It was escapism at its finest; no matter how tired or emotionally drained we all were every text and phone call was answered. Speeding down roads to farther streets, exploring places we barely knew all to forget the fact that soon it’ll all be gone. 

We were reckless kids that rejected reality, living in the shadows of the wildflowers that bloom in our heads. We know it’s not healthy, and neither are any of us. But we inhale fumes to last our tired bodies through the inconvenient nights. The fire burns our eyes, stinging the tears and involuntary emotions away for a moment and letting the noise in the background take over. 

It was a tradition; our feet found themselves on the same hill after every long day. Smoke pours out of our lungs with every dry hit and cough and finally, the laughter spills out, letting the pain of the day go even if it's for the moments the fire crackles and pops. When the silence sets, the sky becomes our haven. We loved a world that hated us, staring into the scenery that felt like it could only be there for us to see. We praised the good weather and loved the rain that follows after. Under the same set of stars, the polluted sky wouldn’t stop us from these feelings—the terrifying feeling of change.

We drink lukewarm beer with our smoke and dance to songs we used to listen to alone. Sometimes we’d scream the words out, letting the lyrics float their way into our hearts as some would sit there and stay in the dark forest of our thoughts. 

If the world gave me the time, I would’ve gathered a million stars in the sky worth every emotion they made me feel. As if that would be enough to thank all of them for the times we had—it wouldn’t and I know that. As if the world was that fucking generous. 

I hadn’t known them for that long, some I’d only met a few weeks prior, but I know that I owed more to our group of rebels without a cause and in ways they would never understand. I would give up everything for them. Sacrifice the world for their lives. I can only think of how to repay them for all they did in the time I had left. It wasn’t like I’d never see them again, but a few months might as well be years. 

I hear the laughter parading through the memories in my head, the only times I could smile without fear. I can see the walks home, dripping wet from the pour. I see her smile as she passes me a lighter, waiting as we corrupt our young bodies with drugs we shouldn’t be taking. But we do, counting down for each other as we suck away the little remaining particles of our lives. We always smoke together. We did almost everything together. Black-stained tears glide down her glowing face as the feeling of sorrow withers my heart. I see the ghost of a smile painted on her sorrowed expression and the times of chaos circle back to me like waves atop sand. 

She turned back to look at me, her lips moving upwards into a grin as we pass by narrow walkways surrounding people with no matter to us. I knew that smile, all too well in fact. Strutting down hallways and sidewalks as if we ourselves were amongst the gods. For a few moments in time, I lived in it; her and I taking over the world. 

I feel the warm hugs, his arm over my shoulder like a big brother protecting his sister as we step down the sidewalks late at night. Melodies echoed through glass planes and dark walls–an orchestra of emotions flooded into my head all at the same time. It’d only been curiosity that lead me to this point. I would sit there for hours and listen to him play. I could likely say the same about the boy in awe that sat beside me. I never knew I could feel so much simply with a few notes. Tears flow down my face endlessly as the sound drifts and become all I know.

I feel the emotions he pours out when we’re alone, speaking on things I can only listen to; things I will never feel the same as he did. I can see his light-hearted smile as he crosses the fields to see us, holding out kindness in his hands. Gentle, like soft piano tones against his fingertips. His kindness was everything to me. 

I hold their hand down the streets, manically laughing as we watch the life around us. They scream corny love songs, blasted through shitty laptop speakers. I can’t lie, I join them; dancing through our own cruel summer. They’ve been around me the longest, and know every little thing about me. My grip on anxiety faded into their infectious laugh in seconds. There wasn’t anything to worry about around them, just pure happiness. 

It worried me that would never be able to hold them when they cry. Hearing their heart-breaking sobs will always be better than not having them at all. That was the only thing I feared around them; that they wouldn’t need me anymore. That their life would be gone in a flash and wouldn’t be there to stop it. 

I didn’t know who he was at first, named only a few times in my life. He was a stranger to me months before; a name only brought up by a girl that broke my heart. Honestly, I thought I would’ve hated him, the mere syllable of his name would break my heart in seconds. I regret those feelings, even to this day. I never thought he’d be any more than the guy she chose instead of me. But he was too sweet to be that person, too soft to even hate. I’ll hate that part of my head, wished we’d been friends much sooner. 

Speeding through stop signs without a care in the world–music blasting through our ears as his car shakes uncontrollably stopped at a light. He gives the most thoughtful hugs and the warmest smiles. There hadn’t ever been so much in myself in someone else before; he was comfort of the purest kind. His happiness mattered more than my selfish inconvenient emotions. My best friend, even if I’m not to him.

We chased lights down different roads, lonely ones. Speeding through streets and burning so intensely like wildfire. Our merciless world crushed under the palms of those who’ve only brought pain. But that’s what attracted me to them, their wildfires. 

There were good people in the world and I hated it so much I couldn’t see it. I continued to hate the world around me and the people that surrounded it. I wasted my life, trapped within closed corners in my mind. I’d finally found life itself within people I never thought would notice me; within those who I thought wouldn’t waste their time with someone like me. Before I knew it, it was too late. Leaving them was inevitable, and our summer dreams were crushed. Plans were only mere daydreams, letting our imaginations get the best of our summer beast.

It was just that, all the things I never knew I needed. It was the steeped tea, broken pipes, sudden empty thoughts, pianos, and random adventures; speeding through stop signs, bad beer, smudged liner, and playful flirting. This group of people, the gang of misfits, outcasts with no place to call home–was all I never knew I needed. A place to belong–something that feels like home. We'll be alright. Change; as terrifying as it sounds, isn’t all that bad. We cry over what we aren’t used to, things we take for granted, or the minutes that countdown before loss. These are the times we’ll hold when our memories fade, the wildflowers of memories we cherish. 

It's the end of an era. Whether or not the daydreams we share become a part of our reality or we fall out of each other’s minds in a few months; nothing is completely forgotten. You’ve never actually forgotten somebody, it just takes a bit more time to remember. The stories we’ll tell of the lives we once lived will forever stay engraved, saturated within our subconscious till the end. I could only hope that I’d forever be sewn into your minds, even if it's simply by memory. I hope to be the wildflower you’ll never forget.

#my writing #writers on tumblr #writers #sad thoughts

[lilithissad]

𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰;

Suffocation in my lungs as the anxiety festers deeper inside me. A war in myself wages in heartbreak as I'm left waiting for who she'll choose. She's the reason why I'm at ground zero. I'm tired, though I continue to suffocate myself to gain her favour over him. It feels as if my existence would only be a thought when she was high but I was fine with it. I try too hard and sacrifice too much for the people I care for. I knew how weak I can be and how excessive I can become but I would pave paths and build bridges to change the newfound distance between us. It's how I've always been and how I'll always be.

I search for some form of hope in her eyes, finding nothing but expressionless pools of hazel. I'm lost in the feeling of it again, love. Though, this time it hurts too much.

I've been told to move on, leave the awful April behind, and start anew. Yet the feeling of endless weight is too heavy to let go of. Like a stubborn child, I see too much hope. I want to fight to see the sun.

Maybe I'm too childish for love, dumbfounded the single second I grab the attention of others. Maybe I put myself at ground zero the moment I realized I was in love. I will always feel too much for other people, my emotions a manic episode in itself. I won't ever get the luxury of feelings being accepted because I won't ever be like other people. My feelings itself is a chaotic storm and as much as I hate winter, it was exactly what I feel like.

To people that tell me to simply move on, I can't. I sound stubborn, like their words enter my ears and exit out the other; I just simply can't. It isn't because I can't listen but because I'm too emotional to follow through. My emotions can't be blocked out for so long, no matter how hard I try, I'll follow her like a lost puppy waiting for an owner. I fall fast and love too hard, but those that shine brighter burn so much faster. What will it take to leave her behind?

I miss falling, I miss the feeling of having my feelings returned; I miss feeling careless, like a soft petal floating with the wind, I miss falling.

I change my mind, I fucking hate falling. Yet, the worse part is, no matter what, I'll continue to fall the moment she steps into that same bathroom stall; the moment she smiles again. Now I wait; sitting on my bed at four in the morning, praying for this horrid April to end. Unfortunately, I would do anything for her. All I can wish for is her happiness, that my temporary happiness was enough for her.

I'm not strong enough to let these feelings go, my body wandering into the same bathroom we met as if it was second nature. She was just a phase, I told myself that over and over again. The parasites in my head were too adamant, however. Festering thoughts sparked every inch of my mind like a chain of endless explosions. She was the only thing I could think of and it hurt, more than it should.

The daydreams returned, hypotheticals of hope and downfall. It came in like an unpleasant tide, washing through my feet in chilly temperatures and leaving as soon as it washed in; leaving uncomfortable strands of ocean filth in-between my toes.

Escapism was all I had left, all my body could handle. I would try anything I got my hands on; drugs, alcohol, validation. It was when I met him, a boy that was too good to be true. He gave and expected nothing in return, cared with claims that he would do anything for me. It felt better having any feelings returned than none at all. I spent my day talking to the boy, hoping he'd take me away from this hellish nightmare and he did for a little bit. Then I needed more.

Drugs are extremely terrifying. They're there for you when you have no one else to turn to; offer a sense of comfort when no one else can. I knew that out of all things, that wouldn't leave me or judge me for caring too much. It wouldn't hurt me the way others did, villainize and abuse me. I made best friends with a flower, an addicting and tempting plant that was once my enemy. It was my temporary happiness, one that I can keep; something I can call mine. It was my kingdom of addiction, a world I can live in where life wasn't a choice, all hurt was optional and those who fall into my self-paved path I can easily forget. I can finally forget myself. Weed was my lover, and for moments in time, it was mine.

I thought I could finally move past it, like the buds ground and packed perfectly into a small blue pipe were enough for the feelings to go away. It did after a few deep hits, then I needed more. Begged desperately for whatever I can get, making promises to return the favour whenever I have the money to. Addiction; I look back at the people that died in my life and feel their disappointed glares. I turned into something my mother was afraid of– a monster.

All I wanted was to feel nothing at all

"Do you think I'm going to prom with you because I feel bad," she asked.

I refused to turn back at her for a second, staring at the ground to think of something, anything, to say. I sucked in a long breath and finally gathered up the courage to look her in eye. For a second I thought about telling her the truth, it was a face I could lie to. I figured that's why my intoxicated mind pushes itself to talk to her any chance it gets; I can't lie to her. That's all I've been doing– to myself and her.

'Yes,' I so desperately wanted to say, 'I don't understand why you wanna be around me in the first place.' Words I wished I could've said at that moment; a possible answer to my anxiety. But it wasn't worth having her think of me even less than she already did. In truth, the full honest truth, I thought she was simply too nice to tell me she didn't wanna go with me anymore. She wasn't into girls and that hurt the most. I wish I couldn't feel at all.

I didn't know how selfish I could be until now, but no matter what I'll still desperately want my feelings returned. I know that's something I couldn't have, but I'd settle for being how we were. I wouldn't care if she didn't like me back, I hate the tension. At least I could pretend.

"No," I replied in a questioning tone, "what do you mean?"

I found out many things about her that day, like how scary it felt when she cried. Her face was often emotionless, though that was always something I found charming about her. When she cried, she looked so broken; equally, it broke me too. It reminded me of how much her smile lit up a room.

Sometimes she was too much for me, I realized that when I found myself feeling jealous of my own best friend. I never understood why things changed between us, all I know is that my best friend was my replacement. Maybe she refused to because she didn't like girls; that was fine with me. But she didn't like girls. Maybe it was just me, who I am, or how I look that set her off— but it hurt every time she rejects the idea of me.

I'll always be left at ground zero.

I look towards the falling petals and wished I could be that exact thing, falling without regret. But cherry blossoms are just cherry blossoms, as I am and will always be the girl she met in the bathroom stall.

#writing #girls who like girls #my writing #writers on tumblr #lgbtq #sad thoughts

[lilithissad]

𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴;

To those who bloom within the cherry blossom trees, how do you live? knowing you'll die any second that wind becomes too much for your petals to handle. do you bloom knowing you'll die early or are you scared? I stare under you, watching as you pour onto the ground, showering the green and brown fields in a light pastel. your petals are velvety; soft against my dry fingers smelt almost fruity and of fresh dew. it amazed me how beautiful you were, astounded me how you could fight despite knowing you'd be stolen from–be subjected to the backgrounds of people's captured moments.

Spring set in; the warmth of the sun peeking through the clouds. The sky lost its monochrome touch, parting in light colors of blue. Winter passed by like a chaotic storm, and I'm watching the world awaken finally around me.

I never liked spring, it was far too wet, mud tracking your shoes as you waltz outside. Often it's too cold for my mom to even consider it spring; "It's winter! Why are you just wearing a sweater?" she would yell at me as I climbed into the backseat of her car. Though, it was April and spring started weeks ago. It was late winter when I met her–when I didn't know her. Now it's spring, I fucking hate spring.

At first, I was confused, I fell so hard and I barely knew her. I hoped and dreamed of days my feelings would be rightfully returned. It was impossible to tell whether I loved her or it was my cluttered mind, going too fast for itself.

"You killed me," she said, looking up at me from where she sat, in-between my legs as I sit on the backrest of the wooden park bench just outside the school.

"What?" I asked with a soft smile, holding back a laugh.

"You just killed me," she repeated.

I didn't know what that meant, but the moment the sun hit her brown orbs I could've said the exact same thing in return.

Love was more terrifying than I thought.

"Prom?" she wrote on brown-colored paper, in a pen that they left as a tester in a small Asian-inspired store in the heart of the city. I felt my heart burst when I read it and it took me forever to think of a response that made me seem cool. Word formed into paper, just three letters; the only ones I could think of.

I remember her smile when I said yes, the one that forced my heart to thump rapidly every time it was caught in her lips. I remember smiling too, as she showed it off to someone else. I returned to the store to capture the memory, setting it as my phone screen wallpaper soon after.

God help a fool falling in love.

I caught myself counting down the days to prom, my thoughts swirling with never-ending questions about trivial things. Those things I never got to experience before; like being a teenager in love. The childish yet refreshing feelings of just simply being in love.

"You make me feel like twenty thousand emotions all at once," I typed in, letting the dim light of my phone illuminate my skin. I waited for her response, letting minutes and hours pass without thought. At the time I didn't think much about it, I thought she was busy; playing a game that needed more attention. I never realized that maybe I came off too strong or that maybe she hadn't felt the same. I was far too gone and vulnerable, the weed and alcohol corrupting my every thought. But I was a helpless child in love with love, and the feeling of being wanted by someone other than a fictional character sparked something so childish in me.

I never thought things would end up like this, and this quickly. Although I dreamed about it, I never thought I could fall so helplessly again. I thought that maybe for once; falling wasn't so bad like I could fall harder and harder every day and that feeling would feel like floating.

To those who bloom within the cherry blossom trees, how do you fall? Gracefully, I bet. You bloom then shatter; flowing with the breeze.  It's late April now, and the cold keeps itself grounded in the atmosphere. I wish I could stand underneath you, bask in the floral scent, and feel velvet on my fingertips, but, it was far too cold for the blossoms to bloom where I sit at ground zero.

#girls who like girls #lgbtq #writing #my writing #sad thoughts #writers on tumblr

[lilithissad]

𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭;

She sat comfortably on the toilet as her eyes reddened from how much she smoked, talking about anything and everything with the other girls.

she wore a grey sweatshirt, pulled loosely over her school uniform; thick black shoes stomping as she made her way into the stall. her voice pulled me in first, the slight rasp of weed with a bold yet soft tone. then it was the way she stood, how her hair looked, the beanie she can't live without, and finally the soft chuckle. I think that's what first got me; the laugh, then everything about her fell into place.

The stalls were a light-brown shade; coffee stains smeared against the outside of the doors, the scent of perfume and fruit candies floating throughout the girls' bathroom. I remember her striking conversation first. I wasn't sure why, but I thought it was cute.

"What do you like to do," she asked, leaning against the wall, "out of school I mean."

I looked at her puzzled, no one had ever asked me to talk about myself before. It's a feeling I would never get used to.

"Draw, I guess. Write, sing, watch anime, game," I listed them out one by one, having to think carefully about the words I say.

"You game?" she asked me, smiling softly. I simply nodded, returning the smile with my own.

I took in everything as soon as she looked away, the drugs finally getting into my system.

Weed was a beautiful thing, getting high and forgetting everything else existed; to live in one's brain. It pulled me out of the constant anxiety and in that moment, my body can find peace. She took that from me, my thoughts filling with her mere presence.

It was a simple crush. I wonder to myself why I reacted the way I did, the head banging against the coffee-stained stalls was my brain begging me to think about anything else. It was a simple attraction, a fascination. Though for some reason, I found myself looking for her in the bathroom stalls again, sitting nervously at the mere thought of being around her. She terrified me in the way no one else did, yet something about that enticed me.I'd always been good at reading people, I'd know immediately if someone wasn't okay with a single glance at their movements. It was like fire alarms ringing in my head; I noticed everything. Yet for her, I'd take one look and nothing came to mind. I didn't know how she was

I couldn't get her out of my mind for a week, she hadn't shown up to school for days though I never bothered to ask why. Soon enough, I used the spot to hide from potential mistakes–-the words I shouldn't say, the person I wanted to become– I used drugs to cope with who I was, ultimately broken. I'd lose focus on what hellish reality existed outside of the girl's bathroom; the one that was placed surrounding the math classes that were held at the time. But she showed up again, following behind someone walking into the bathroom stall.

Fascination grew like freshly bloomed carnations. All I could think about was her, the echoing voices that crowed the bathroom stall muted themselves and for that single moment, my utterly horrid day was quiet.

I tried to read her again, staring from my uncomfortable seat on the ugly school floor. It was probably my first mistake, the smile she held instantly dragged me in and I started to notice everything else she did.

It was the little things at first. From the way she'd listen intently to other people, to the nod she gave when she was pleasantly satisfied. It all came together like a huge force, I really liked her, and I didn't know what to do about it.

I thought of hypotheticals; a sea of daydreams rushing into my head. My imagination ran rampant as she talked, some unpleasant to say out loud, others were words I wish I could say and the things I could do to capture her gaze another time. But I simply couldn't. That was the person I wished I was, confident and unafraid of judgment. Her thoughts of me were all I could care about any moment she enters my field of vision. I dressed nicer, talked cuter, and smiled more. I would always wonder if I'd do too much–my entire life now fixated on a singular person.

She wasn't like that, I could tell. I feel too much and fall too quick; I hold no regard for what I do to hurt myself. My life isn't as important to care for–though that's simply how I think.

I didn't know much about her; granted, she never really talks about herself. All I knew was that she wasn't like me. I'd watch her walk away countless times, gotten texts that hurt me a little too much. But I wasn't hers, nor would I ever be. So I try too hard, following her where ever she goes in hopes of anything to ease the need for affirmation.

I'd always told myself that one day I'll fall and that it's inevitable. That the feelings of one-sidedness in every lovesick part of me will have the same feelings returned. I told myself that I'm worth loving, worth falling, and worth flying. But I continue to fall, deeper and deeper. The ache in my hurts the more I continue to fall.

The rues surround me, engulfing my senses in dread and anxiety. What if she didn't like me? What if she thinks I'm too much? The what-if questions circle my mind like the flowers themselves engulfing green fields with a yellow tone. A beautiful flower that could only hurt so much. It's selfish for her to be so warm, to put a smile on my face. Yet she, to me, was a flower nonetheless. And I adored flowers.

    A jungle of wildflowers surrounds me, the emotions I bare weigh too much, blooming endlessly like vines on abandoned brick. My garden's a mess. Yet, I still adore flowers. It was only supposed to be a small crush, one that feels like it'll last lifetimes.

Sometimes I wonder if we could be anything more, I'd imagine it in my head, dream endlessly about how it would feel. She was more than what I could ever be; she passed tests with eighties, talked so freely to the crowded group of girls, and had parts of her own future planned. She was a carnation, blooming in ways I would never know. I've lived, wilted, and was blown away by harsh winter winds–the satisfaction of the once soft petals I had shattered so long ago. While I endlessly run from the things that scare me most she pushed forward. Though there was something that scared me more than anything; that I would end up just being the girl she met in the bathroom stall.

#writers on tumblr #my writing #lgbtq #writing #girls who like girls #sad thoughts