you’re like a party
somebody threw me
you taste like birthday
you look like new year’s
you’re like a big parade through town
you leave such a mess but you’re so fun 

May 13th | reblog

Days spent swallowed
by your arms,
memorizing
the scars painted on
the canvas you’ve labeled
your body,
inhaling
the scent of your skin
(freshly brewed coffee
and mint)
hoping
it lingers on mine
for the eternity you have
promised me 

May 3rd with 1 note | reblog

Sealed letters (1)

Dear best friend,

Everyday I wake up and I wonder at my dumb, dumb luck for having found a friend as incredible as you are. Our antics these past few years are stars I cannot fathom into constellations. Sometimes I still can’t believe it. You make me trust in people again. You help me see the good in everyone I meet. You make me a better person. Anyone who knows you would agree with me when I say that you have one of the purest hearts I have ever come across. I just hope that I am as good of friend to you as you are to me. You have introduced me to so many new things that I can’t imagine my life without now. You are clever, you are thoughtful and you are without a doubt one of the greatest people I have met in high school. I hope great things happen to you. I hope you go off and touch many people’s lives the same way you impacted mine. You deserve everything wonderful in this world. Thank you for brightening those dreadfully long schooldays, thank you for challenging me all the time and thank you for sticking by myself no matter how high my insanity levels peak.

Thank you. 

Love,
Dee 

April 19th with 1 note | reblog


March 25th with 1 note | reblog

Klaroline drabble: The Speech

“I…I have something to say.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to say it right this moment. It can’t wait, not anymore.”

“Just tell me”

“I love you, Caroline.”

“What? Klaus—”

“—I am completely and utterly in love with you. I adore everything about you Caroline. I love the way your eyes smile before you lips do. I love the fierce loyalty that seeps through your veins. I have never seen anyone carry the weight of the world on their shoulders with such poise. You are the very definition of selfless. You are the epitome of grace. Before I met you I scoffed at the phrase “devastatingly beautiful.” What kind of beauty could possibly weaken man’s knees? But that is what you are Caroline. Devastatingly beautiful. You consume me. You break me and you make me a better person. You are too good for this world but I can’t imagine a life without you.  Every day I look at you and I wonder at my dumb, dumb luck. I don’t deserve you Caroline but maybe…maybe one day I will. We’ve got an eternity after all, don’t we love?”

“Klaus, don’t—”

“You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to say it back. I just…needed this. I needed to tell you because I can’t live another day without you knowing how I feel about you.”

“Do you want to know how I feel?”

“Yes, of course”

“I guess you’re stuck with me for another lifetime because I love you too”

March 6th with 14 notes | reblog

Dearest stranger whom I love most dearly,

No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try you will always have something bad to say. I could walk on the Moon and you’d still criticize how I chose to carry out my first steps. Everything I do, I do for you. I do to make you happy, to make you proud and yet it seems like nothing ever will. This is why I have adopted such a nonchalant attitude toward everything. It has even come to the point where I think I’m slowly losing my empathy for others. I just don’t care and I want to. I want to care so badly because not caring is boring and stupid and a waste of time. But you’re driving me into this unbearable state of indifference. I know in the back of my head that the things you say come from this deeply rooted sense of affection and essentially good intentions but I love you and all I want is for you to love me for who I am and for who I choose to be. For someone whose sole purpose is to make you happy, I’m not doing a very good job am I? I know I’m being harsh, on you and on myself. And maybe everything just seems ten times worse in my head and maybe this is all my own doing but I need to get this off my chest because who else would I talk to? A person who doesn’t care isn’t supposed to let others know that she actually does, right?

Sincerely, 
Someone who has spent their whole life trying

February 24th | reblog

1

Sometimes he thought that growing old meant being more and more unhappy. Every birthday candle blown was a friend long gone and every strand of gray hair was an lost opportunity. He never felt wiser or more prepared, he just felt like adding a year to his age meant taking something away in return— something or someone he loved. There was no glamour to growing up, just an incessant troubling feeling in the pit of your stomach warning you to never hold on too tight.

February 11th | reblog

Talking is so much like feeling the urge to throw up. Sometimes you’ll think something but your conscious self will hold it back and avoid saying it out loud but most of the time everything you’re thinking just comes rushing out and you have no control over it. It’s like projectile vomiting in front of a large crowd, except regurgitated chunks of food, no matter how disgusting, can be cleaned off while the awful things you say to someone will stick longer and leave ugly stains.

January 20th | reblog

Secrets

There are some things you could never tell a single soul. Secrets of the night that are meant to be hidden deep under your pillow, only revealed in one of two circumstances: love or death.

These are the words whispered into the dark when you think everyone but you has gone to sleep. They aren’t always bad though. These are your dreams, your regrets. The imaginary world you have built in your head at the age of 3 and still visit from time to time. The things you wish you had said to someone long gone and all of the meaningless words you wish could take back. Silly daydreams of a madman in a blue box that has come to whisk you away and show you all of space and time. Conversations that you have in your head with a faceless, nameless friend or lover— one from the past or the near future. Most of these words do nothing but weigh your heart down. A dull ache that grows more intense with the passing of time until the inevitable happens; your chest breaks into a million little pieces, each one flying to an unknown space. All of the secrets you have locked inside of you have now escaped to places you will never set foot in. They were flung into the wild. They left with no warning, no protection and no goodbyes. But they were kind enough to leave a single keepsake behind: a gaping hole where your heart is meant to be. Days later, you stand in front of the mirror and look closely at yourself. Your skin is no longer your skin, your chest is no longer your chest, you heart no longer belongs to you. What you see is a bottomless abyss that does not cry for help. There is no rush for it to be filled because you are not empty. You have set yourself free.

January 2nd | reblog

I am the Sea, the Sea is me

Or perhaps she is an old friend
who has been by my side since birth
A loyal companion to mend
a dozen broken hearts on Earth

November 17th | reblog