when it rains ☼

I just want you to see the parts of me that I think you might find beautiful, maybe then you’ll fall in love.

He feels like that moment when
you put on new glasses and
realize that the wall has a texture.
I had forgotten what it felt like to
blush all over my body. When I
was fifteen I realized that jumping
from heights clears your lungs in
a way that crying in bed never
could. He’s never made me feel
like drowning. He’s only ever felt
like the air at the top of a cliff;
he’s only ever felt like clarity.

anne, The boy who keeps me sober (via anneisrestless)

we talked about your death in my car at ten o’clock

in a deserted parking lot. you were in the driver’s

seat, lights turned off, music turned on.

and you told me that i wouldn’t care anyway,

so why does it matter?

and so i screamed at you, trying to make you understand

why the hell i care so much about you.

but i’ll never have the words to explain why and how i love you.

i just want you to know

and accept that i do, that you can’t leave

this world without taking me with you because

there’s no way i’ll be okay without you here.

and i wish you could just get it and think about it for

even a second, because,

damn it,

i love you.

and there’s no other way to say it than that.

I wake up every morning and
I am at war. Some days I am
a soldier, some days I am a
land mine. This morning I
woke up a captive country;
I am being swallowed whole
and can’t find hands to fight
for myself.

anne, waking up helpless (via anneisrestless)

I’m not the girl your mother warns you about.
I won’t kiss your best friend or break your heart.
I won’t make you choose between what you love to do & me.
I’m not cold. I’m not reckless.

I’m the girl your father mentions when your mom’s not around.
I’m the girl that gets away.

I will love you more than anything.
I will kiss you when you cry.
I will stand by your side until you decide otherwise.

And you’re just like your father, so you will.

You’ll let me go & I won’t look back,
But you will.
I promise you, you will.

I’m that girl.

You call me beautiful and the
words are so practiced in
your mouth that your teeth
almost look worn around them.

anne, he says that to all the girls (via anneisrestless)

I’m Not Even A Poet, I Just Write About You

My English teacher always tells me

that poets choose their words carefully;

they always pick the best possible words

to include in their poetry.

That they spend long, endless hours

laboring over word choice.

That they don’t just write a poem in one sitting.

So I guess I’m not really a poet,

just a lonely girl spilling words onto paper

without really knowing what words to say.

And I guess that’s okay because

I usually am writing

about you.

I went to church today.

And as soon as I walked through the open doors

I couldn’t breathe because

it smelled like you.

I realized that it wasn’t the church

that smelled like you,

but that you smelled like the church.

And I wonder how many hours you have to spend there to

come home,

go to class,

and still have an unreachable,

holy,

distant,

scent about you.

So I decided,

when I sat down in that wooden chair,

that I would treat you like a deity,

and let you alone

because I would never

want

to spoil something so very

precious.