The ego hurts you like this: you become obsessed with the one person who does not love you. blind to the rest who do.
Later that night she picked the polish offwith her front teeth until the bed you sharedfor seven years seemed speckled with glitterand blood.
later that night i held an atlas in my lap ran my fingers across the whole world and whispered where does it hurt?it answered everywhere everywhere everywhere.
You tried to change didn’t you? Closed your mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake... You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that.
At the end of the day, it isn’t where I came from. Maybe home is somewhere I’m going and never have been before.
[…] but she cannot make him eat, like you.
Document the moments you feel most in love with yourself - what you’re wearing, who you’re around, what you’re doing. Recreate and repeat.
all those nights with the phone warming the side of my face like the sun.
His eyes were the same colour as the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay.
It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.