*nerium*

Status: this place is almost as dead as i am
Joined: December 9, 2012
Last Seen: 1 year
Birthday: August 10
user id: 341483
Location: +44
absolute trash lord. stuck in 2007. i love bread and suffering. the reason i love that film is because it's really depressing.
// this is where art thrives
++ this is all the rest

** this is the earth

Quotes by *nerium*

Love is when you look at me and I no longer feel like crying.
I sat, glassy and vague, with a golfball in my throat and needles in my eyes.
My skin felt tight, so I cut around the edges. The next day, she sewed it back together; she sewed it so much tigher.
In her shadow, I wilted in the summer. Mother tried to help, but the more she watered me the more I drowned.
we lay in bed, watching as the sun counted down time, and i remember how calm - how loved - i felt just because the warmth of your skin was seeping into mine. i remember the way you looked at me, with such simple adoration that I felt sick; no one has looked at me like this before, as if i'm important. i could feel myself crying - ugly and harsh - and then you had cradled my face - had said "please, don't cry. you don't deserve to" and i crumbled like an avalanche. the way you held me was unreal; i felt loved and secure, but mostly i felt wanted. i wanted this moment to last me forever.
The sound of your voice causes my chest to tighten inexplicably. A glance at your face and I feel the endorphins roll within my blood. Imagine the damage caused to my body if I were to actually touch you.

There was something in the room, faceless and afraid. I asked if you could feel it, this thing between us, and you looked so worried - so sick - that I let it dance away. Sometimes I wish that if only you had felt it too.
The walls you stand behind are wearing thin, and hopeless, I beg for you to let me inside. I have been trying so hard to keep in time with the words that flow from your mouth; the things you cry behind these walls when you think I cannot hear. sometimes I hear you cry about me, and that is when I think that maybe you are both blind and deaf to the fact that I have already destroyed so many things for you. What more can I do? I am sorry that standing outside of your walls is exhausting; that being vulnerable and open is exhausting. Waiting for you, I think I'll have to build some walls of my own.

i am a house made of concrete and many do not bother to visit. but i feel like a window when he looks at me. i feel so transparent, so raw and clear. i cannot hide at all. and when he looks at me - truly looks at me - he looks past all of the dirt and shards of broken glass. he crawls through the window, cutting his hands, until i can feel him sitting within the house of my soul.
 Something was and wasn't there between us
something went on and went away.