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My soul just died, watching him kiss her in my dreams.
What is wrong with my head, are you so used to being fucked up dude that you are doing yourself this to you ( I mean me.. Duhh!)
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I appreciate, that you are still searching happiness in every bit of broken pieces.
I appreciate, that you are still trying to fall in love hopelessly.
I appreciate, that you are still that dump, kind hearted person you used to be.
Don't let this rude cruel world change you.. 🖤
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Breaking Bad
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You do learn to love someone by opening the door to your heart and your soul. But how do you learn to unlove that someone even after closing the door to that stupid heart and naive soul.
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Quotes by Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath
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Yanyi, from Dream of the Divided Field: Poems; “The Friend”
[Text ID: “stop fighting, but I am not / fighting. I am noticing / where I don’t exist. / I should leave.”]
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I could have said million things to him, but my chaotic mind wouldn't let me. As if, it wanted me to suffer in the silence of growing sorrow.
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If it's out of your hand , it deserve freedom from your mind too.
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an archive of longings
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June Gehringer, “I get so jealous of euthanized dogs”
[Text ID: “the worst thing about love is / i remember it. / i walk around all day / thinking: i’m going to die / in the universe / you loved me in.”]
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My chest feels heavy, as if it's aching of the sorrow of not letting you choose to stay close to the soul that needs you.
The burden of not letting you walk into my heart, not letting you feel the desperation of how much the soul Iam keeping alive inside of me wants you.
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For a second there
I think I loved you.
I always use to preach to you that time did not exist
It was only a concept created to comfort the weakness of human minds
I still believe that, just so you know.
So, I’d like to reiterate,
That for a second,
A split second,
Or perhaps an eternity
I think I loved you
And maybe, 
If only for a moment,
Maybe, you loved me.
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You learn to accept the black holes in your psyche, don’t you? You accept them as a glitch, a fault of your own brain, mercilessly antagonizing your own ability to recount your life.
Fariha Róisín, from Who Is Wellness For?: An Examination of Wellness Culture and Who It Leaves Behind
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