You should stay as far away from me as possible. You should pack up your blue eyes and your cold, immobile heart and leave me in the middle of the night with no word on how to find you.
Listen to your instincts, feel it in the wind, whatever. Look for signs, each one is whispering to you a single word: Run!
So go. Git.
Ignore our corresponding tragedies and passions. Do not imagine the future I could slide into like water down your throat. Don’t close your eyes and remember how we have quietly twisted together.
Whatever you do, don’t remember the good. The good might lure you back to me.
Instead think only of your fears and call them convictions. Call yourself a wanderer. Tell yourself I will only tie you down. Repeat these excuses to your friends. Pretend not to hear how flimsy the words sound.
Go explore, be alone, find yourself. Meet uncomplicated girls. Don’t learn their last names. Fuck them.
You fear (and rightly so) what I will do to your life. I would challenge every thought, blur every line, and insist on vivid detail and subtext. I would be an upheaval, a time suck, the last thing you need in the tidy bohemian chaos of your story line.
I am soft-bodied and warm blooded and entirely too conflicted and passionate to be of any good to you. I would grab. I would insist. I would run my hands up your arm, put my mouth to your ear, and whisper, “I love you.”
Go. Please, without saying goodbye.
And I wish you all the happiness in the world. I really do.
Clementine von Radics
This just scrolled by with the whole piece but this part perfectly captures how we all felt this weekend. Perfection all around us and fires within!(via moainstill)
Here is what I know:
You eat peanut butter everyday and we were best friends.
Once you kissed my tears and it made me laugh.
Once you held my hand in front of everyone and it made me cry.
I see the way you treat your life and it makes me want to be a better person,
But I am a terrible person when you’re not my friend.
You are the kindest and gentlest person I have ever known
And I’m still punishing myself for my mistakes.
It’s hard to write poems when I only know how to love you.
I am always trying (to be better, to deserve better.)
I am thinking of somedays.
You asked me why I never write about you, so I made you this.
Here is the truth, it’s hard to be in love with someone who woke up feeling differently one day. I don’t know yet how to turn that into poetry."