SO I ACTUALLY DID THIS A FEW MONTHS AGO AND I DIDNT EVEN THINK THEY LOOKED AT THIS SORT OF THING SO BY THE TIME THE DELIVERY MAN CAME I HAD FORGOTTEN THAT I WROTE THAT AND THE GUY WAS REALLY CUTE. WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR HE WAS SUPER FLUSTERED AND DROPPED HIS PEN, THE BAG HOLDING THE PIZZA AND THE RECEIPTS. THEN after i signed the receipt and he was getting ready to leAVEEEE HE GOES “So… umm… did you actually put that?” and i was like “put what?” and he goes “… to.. um… tell you.. um that you’re pretty” omg it hit me that this was why he was all nervous and i started cracking up omfg then he told me that i was pretty.
i did this once but when the guy came to the door I sent my friend Martin to get the pizza and I heard muffled laughter and then Martin came back into the room with the pizza and whispered “he told me I was pretty”
Dear You- Love, Me
It goes a little something like this
The door closes
and you wait in the silence
like your breath could write poetry on these walls
like if you opened your mouth you could sing a symphony
but you only ever walk away.
Like it’s your fault
that the only thing you ever knew how to do
was build yourself enough heels in your shoes
be able to walk tall
you called them your pride.
You never learned to walk without them.
And it always seemed that whenever life opened a new door
You were pulling gravity towards
the destruction of the very things
you swore you’d never cause pain.
see there was always too much gravel on your road
and you grew tired of pulling rocks out of the
parts of yourself you were never supposed to show.
and the person who said that stepping on lego is the hardest thing to do
never walked out of a room filled with laughter.
and don’t tell me you never believed in happily ever after
we both read the same dreams
out of our diary
The difference is
you chose to ignore that your knight of shining armour
happens to be yourself.
So you just haven’t tried.
So keep stacking on platforms
because no one holds those ideals
as high as you.
Listen, I’m not sure
What the sky looked like
the first time your heart got broken
because I’ve always been colourblind.
And nevermind telling me
that a change of heart
is only art in the clouds
When I’ve never been able to tell the difference
between a metaphor and love.
It was always just a darker hue.
never stop staring at the sky
hoping someone will see the same blue as you
but I learned long ago that no one
no one an identical palette
So the best thing to do is just try and find a little balance.
And I’m aware
That every lover you ever had
is an open wound that won’t heal
and you’re so sick of sewing stitches
into your skin hoping that this time
it will stick together-
and no one ever was a surgeon but you.
On the day you woke up and your heart
had escaped your ribcage
you screamed for someone to bring back the right colour to it.
I know back then I was never able to do it.
But someday soon you’re going to open your eyes
and you’ll be colourblind too
and forget to remember that it was the reason why
you kept sewing yourself open.
Someday you’re going to have chosen
to stop trying to fix it all.
You’ll leave the door off its hinges when they leave
and write poetry on these walls
A symphony of all the skies you ever viewed
I know this now, because I was once you.
another day, another moment where I can’t not reblog this
what a queen
sassy english teachers are the best because they’re beyond sarcastic and somehow always end up insulting the kid that you hate and everyone else likes