sorry for making a mess

you broke my heart into so many pieces I can't even count.

one for every promising word that was ever exchanged,
one for every word of love,
one for every conflicting word,
one for every word of sadness,
one for every word of defeat.
A piece for every smile that spread across my face when you would walk into the room.
A piece for every butterfly that fluttered it's delicate wings all around my stomach when I would hear you say my name.
A piece for all of the times your name would appear on my phone screen.
and I didn't think that something that is so easily taken for granted such as the heart could wind up in so many pieces, but here they lay.
down at my feet, covered in all of my salt water tears that I wasn't brave enough to cry out in front of you, because you would say that is immature.
and no matter how many times I try,
or you try,
or I try,
or we try,
or I try to put them back together,
someone is bound to give up.

and you still look at me with those big brown eyes, that are rimmed with a small trace of light blue from your contact lenses that seem to make the brown a little bit richer.

and I wish I could just run away and hide, be placed in a Witness Protection of Lovers and Heartbreak Protection Program, but I'm afraid those don't exist

but 2am is the time for missing people that don't seem to miss you, or maybe they're just better at hiding it than we are,

or maybe I am missing the phone calls that used to come from you at that time.

and I guess that fate just had different plans for us,

and the stars didn't align exactly how I wanted them to,

but I can't just blame fate,

but I can't blame myself either for you falling...

falling for someone else.

but I can blame you.

and you say it isn't fair, 

but neither is not telling me.

not telling me for 3 months.

but I certainly can't blame them,

they don't even know I exist.

and don't you mind that you left me in this state?

it all of the sudden seems nearly impossible for me to have caused this amount of heartbreak for someone,

but here I am,

standing in the wreckage,

while the shards are sinking into the soles of my feet.

and all I can do is pray that over time someone will come and save me and my bleeding fingers that have been trying to piece my heart back together.

but there will always be pieces too small to find where they go.

to small to pick up, or even to see.

my heart will be left with cracks that can only be filled with the stinging memories of you,

the left over pieces, the ones too small to use, to be swept into a dust pan, and thrown away without a second thought, like how they ended up there in the first place.

des arbres et des feuilles

winter is probably my favorite season

but only until January 18th even though my birthday is February 3rd.

85 more days

85 more days

85 more days

counting the minutes and the hours

and yeah, I know I wear too much black, but who are you to tell me it's wrong?

but it's because when the snow starts to turn grey and slushy from the dirt on the streets,

it loses its "winter wonderland" effect.

wtf youtube, you can't just decide to skip the best 4 songs on my "1975" playlist.

not cool. 

but sweaters are nice,

and coffee is nice,

and skiing is nice,

and the holidays are nice,

but the cold will eventually turn you numb,

and only so many weekends can be filled with ski trips to keep your mind occupied.

skiing can lose its glamour too, you know.

and I wish I could spend my days traveling around the world, but money is a bitch, ain't she?

so stop asking me what my blogger name is.

but spring sucks ass

and I wish I could spend my summers in the overcast comfort of Seattle, because the sun and my vampire skin don't get along,

but fall is in a pretty close 2nd to winter,

and black isn't my favorite color,  it's red.

you look so cool.

and no, I don't love them anymore.

but this hazy head of mine says no

and my love sick heart says yes

and I'm in a constant battle between the two.

jet black hair and dark brown eyes.

and despite how much I wish I wasn't,

I am home.

85 more days.

exactly 84 days, 1 hour, 22 minutes and 38 seconds.

but winter is pretty cool.

le jour de la mort

this was inevitable

and we all knew it was coming, because we all know the ending to this story.

and I wish I could tell you that somehow it could change, but it can't.

this is one ending that can't be unwritten.

and the beating hearts of the weary just make it worse,

but the tears of your sister just make it sad.

and the flowers make it beautifully tragic,

I had heard once that white roses represented innocence and heaven,

but I can't seem to rip my swollen eyes away from the mahogany case that lies at the front of the chapel.

and not all of the heartbreaking-ly chest-crushing music in the world can help that, but maybe it can cushion the blow for just a little while.

we all deserve to be sad, just like we all deserve to be happy.

until breathing doesn't hurt so much,

and until the quiet black hole that sits in between your heart and your lungs that feels like it's constantly pulling at everything inside you that ever mattered starts to disintegrate and fade into the shadowy background

not gone,

but you've learned to deal with the quiet.

we all have one way or another.

and because this sugar that is pumping through my veins, is turning my heart and soul blacker than the night,

and it's all because of the childhood that turned the sweetness sour.

but it wasn't our fault.

the blame is on no one but the stars and the moon,

but, what did they do wrong?

all we've learned is that eventually the sun will be gone too.

not in our lifetime, but everything has a lifetime,

and sometimes, the lifetime isn't long enough.

and the denim jacket that turned soft from over wear, and the tires that had to be changed sooner than they should have needed to be were all just written into a different story with the same ending,

but even though our endings are the same,

my ending will be different than yours.

and we'll all end up as skeletons in the ground, but at least we'll be together.

the sun will be cold, and the sky will turn into and endless night, but only to accompany us in our eternal slumber, but we'll all be together.

we'll all be together.