Category: Short

Text Note With Bipolar

Text Note With Bipolar

Why can’t I be good enough My brain is Swallowed by unspoken, unintelligible words. My brain is swallowed by a blanket I Call safety. My brain is still cold. The blanket is Suffocating. There is no safety, trapped here like this.

where has the time gone?

where has the time gone?

Years have come and gone and I am right where I started. Funny how this relationship started and ended the same way. The fear of rejection. The urge to hold onto the little moments. Obsessing over small details and trying to get them to add up into one picture. When did “I love you” become …

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this sucks

this sucks

love is supposed to know no bounds. but being a thousand miles away is a conflict. we already have so much. you don’t even want me back.

i know ur gonna read this

i know ur gonna read this

Remember when we used to communicate through the Skype status bar? Isn’t it kind of ironic now that I communicate to you through this? That this is the only medium where I can tell you that I love you? Hopelessly, stupidly, and desperately? The only way I can tell you all the things I love …

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say it back

say it back

I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. Why can’t I hear it in your voice? Why now when I say it, It feels devoid of oxygen? Why won’t the bittersweet memories Of our actual relationship surface anymore? Has this been our actual relationship? Were we meant to be together? Or …

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8

8

my brain is rotting and all that rolls around the forgetful mind is eight letters i wish i could scream to get it out of my head. i love you. so darling? won’t you stay with me just for a little while?

2017-2020

2017-2020

It always comes back to the rose. Red or white. Stained or pure. A metaphor for love or pain. The beauty never subsides but simply coexists with the thorns.

Hollow.

Hollow.

A cave with boulders of burden blocking the exit. Echoes of deprecation bouncing off the walls. Burned out torches with their smoke swallowing the depths. Dark and dreary with no end in sight. Hoping for an end but the walls close in. Nothing seems to be in sight.

Yin

Yin

So hard is the life that has been given. So powerful and yet, so negative. It’s cold there. A drowning sensation enveloping me. The repentance I would do for a moment out of the dark.