Darling you don’t sound like you’re in love with him, you sound like you’re desperately trying to hold onto pieces of affection that are firing splinters into your heart.

When your eyes are red from a night’s crying but you smile when strangers ask if you feel okay, darling that is not love.

When he shouts at you and you scream back but your cries are never as loud as his words, saying your dreams are invalid and your thoughts insane, darling that is not love.

When he expects you to give up your life to make him happy, to commit yourself to something you never wanted, please stop telling yourself it is love.

This is not love.

Love is not a chore that you need to make excuses for, that you need to say “maybe he hits me, but I know it’s out of love” or “perhaps he calls me stupid, but he makes me feel beautiful”.

Stop making excuses. This is not love.

— Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #38 (via blossomfully)
"I have watched her
love herself
in ways I did not know
were possible.
But I have seen
her double over and fold
into nothing.
She permanently has blood
on her hands
that she constantly
scrubs raw.
She is always crushed
by dragging
my weight around.
I find it
that one person
can feel so many things
and stay sane.”
Michelle K., Things That Make Her Beautiful. (via michellekpoems)


I will forever be haunted
by the thought of how it could
have been if we would have both
just let our weak and tortured past go.

"First things first, dispose of everything that reminds you of them. The things that they gave you as a token that they are still thinking of you, that things are still going strong. Box it up, throw it out, and if you’re really ready to let go, burn it. Take the photographs of when things were still going good, off of your wall and off of your computer. But most importantly, remove and erase the photographs of when you were happy. Forget about how good you look in their flannel shirt. Cut it up and bring a piece to all of the places that you ever went to together. Leave the memory behind along with shreds, and along with the pain. There is no looking back now.”
"If you want to forget," - Colleen Brown (via mostlyfiction)