These eyes have never seen your smile.
They have never sat and watched you iron, or rest your eyes. 
Nor have they cried for you, when it felt like
that was all they would ever do again.

These ears have never heard your soft spoken words.
They have never listened to you sing too loudly, or read a book.
Nor have they heard the sounds of assisted breathing,
of machines feigning life.

This nose has never smelt your hairspray in the bathroom.
These lips have never wished you happy Christmas,
or told you I love you.
Nor has it smelt the chemically-clean air,
as they kissed your cheek goodbye.

This body has never felt the steady beating of your heart.
It has never felt the warmth and comfort of your hugs.
Nor has it felt your swollen hands as you held on to life
and I held on to you.

each part of my body does not know you, 
has never been blessed with your presence.
Now only my heart and mind cling to you as a child to her father. 

I’m trying to speak, but the words won’t come out, 
I can’t find a way to verbalise my doubt.
You don’t want to hear what I don’t want to say, 
it’s getting harder and harder to smile through the day.
I cannot give in, though; can’t do that to you, 
no matter how hard I must force my way through.
Must ignore all the demons that dwell in my brain, 
must silence their screams; must fight to stay sane.
Each day is a battle I’m scared I will lose, 
there’s only one option; one path I must chose.
I can’t let you see; I must fight to hide,
how this war that I’m fighting it kills me inside.

I am Haunted by memories of how happy I was.

Im gunna use this as a space to vent as I’m pretty sure you won’t end up seeing it (although a part of me kind of hopes you do.)

We were best friends. I loved you, and you made me laugh and we were really, really similar. Coming home from Lisbon, you were one of the people I was most psyched to see.
Ad we made silly plans we always knew we’d never keep - our month long voyage to Italy is a prime example. I remember when you told me you weren’t coming out to visit me, I was so disappointed and had wanted to see you so much, I cried.

I know that I was (and am) a difficult person to be friends with, and things weren’t always a bed of roses and we had our fair share of disagreements and being annoyed with each other but I definitely thought we’d stay close for a long time. And then at the beginning of the year - around Easter time - something seemed to change. We changed. It sucked, cause I think we could both see we were growing more and more distant but couldn’t stop it. And i know i was in a pretty messed up state at the start of this year and i realise that must’ve been difficult for you to feel you had to deal with, but it seemed as if You were constantly angry with me for being unable to be happy. As if you thought I simply wasn’t trying.
It felt as if you withdrew from everyone you were close to and I didn’t know how to break through that, or how to get the old you back.

You were the first person outside of my family to give me a proper nickname. One of the only people I felt properly comfortable around and could discuss anything and everything with, and snuggle in a completely platonic (despite what everyone thought!) way. Heck, you even made me go to the gym.

For a while I was angry, and Hurt and a little bitter. It felt like you’d given up on me and simply decided I wasn’t worth the hassle ( tbh I wouldn’t have blamed you of that was the case - I’d’ve just appreciated being informed!)
But now I’m not angry any more.
Now I just miss you, and am sad that it seems like we can’t go back to how we were. Most of all, though, I am glad we were such good friends, even of it didn’t last as long as we expected.
XxX

I’m writing to tell you how much I’ve missed you
throughout this past year.
How I’ve grown older, stronger, in some ways harder
whilst wishing you were here.

I hope you know that you’re in my thoughts
with every single breath.
Not a day has gone by without me wishing I could’ve
prevented your death.

And although since the day that you passed away
my life’s fallen apart.
Gradually, the scars will fade from both
my body and my heart.

All that I have achieved in this past year would’ve
made you so happy.
My biggest regret is that you wern’t there to
say that you’re proud of me.

And since you’ve been gone I’ve made choices
and done things I regret.
Though In time the pain will fade
I promise never to forget.

I’m writing to tell you how much I’ve missed you
throughout this past year.
How I’ve grown older, stronger, in some ways harder
whilst wishing you were here.

You win some, you lose some,
I guess you’re just someone
that I once had but then lost.

I want a new tattoo. This is the very rubbish initial design. The lyrics are from “down and out” by the academy is… And always remind me Of me and my bestest friend and also to keep strong no matter how bad I feel. Tbh I’d love her to get it too but she isn’t keen on tattoos. Still, I can’t wait :)

Your kisses are tequila:
Warming me, burning me.
You taste of orange peel; 
Bitter, lingering in my mouth.
Sometimes I can’t picture your eyes,
Your smile,
The line of your jaw.
Yet I can feel your arms holding me,
assuring me.
I can never get close enough;
Can never satisfy the longing for your warmth in my cold heart.
Can’t help but press myself closer,
closer.
Trying to melt into you.
To drown in your comfort.
Your stillness. 

You can love many people.
You can, over time, be IN love with more than one person.
You can be madly, irrevocably, in love with someone. SO much so that you cannot breathe without them, can’t think when they are near, and can’t seem to bring yourself to function or to care when they are not there.
And then you can find someone who loves you, who makes you feel like you are worthy of love. Someone who makes you love yourself.
And there’s the difference.

I loved B so much – too much. It burnt brighter than anything in my life ever had, scorching through the darkness. But it was scalding, and all-consuming, and it couldn’t carry on forever. Eventually it burnt out, destroyed itself.
And it left me broken. Burnt.
It ached, and twisted, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to stop from picking at the scars; I couldn’t simply let it go because it was the best, and the worst, and the first something to mean anything.
I know, now, that I will never love anything, anyone, like I loved him. I won’t ever fall headlong into an ocean; I will never again be both unable and unwilling to drag myself to the surface, to break the spell cast by promises of love.
I won’t ever love so freely, so eagerly, and so fully – I can’t let myself be consumed by love, again.
I will never love as naively, as purely, as I did then.

And then there was D.
Who made me laugh, and stopped me from crying, and who stopped the voices in my mind from calling out to me, from ensnaring me. He calmed me down, and brought me back to earth, and kept me safe. He kept me safe and wouldn’t let anything hurt me, even myself .
And he was like a drug; the more time I spent with him, the harder it seemed to be apart.
If he was the drug, then I was the addict – risking everything, doing anything, to get my fix. To keep him close.  This newfound need for affection (for him) made me selfish.
It was a different kind of love, the slow-burning, comfortable heat of a fire on a winters night as opposed to the destructive flames of an explosion.
It was the kind of love that kept me smiling, knowing that I had someone to catch me, rather than sending me hurtling off cliffs, without a second’s consideration that it will probably result in my falling to my doom.

And as for whoever comes next?
I don’t know how I will love them – sometimes I don’t even think I will be able to love anyone again.
(Sometimes I hope I won’t.)
I like to think that they will be somewhere inbetween my two former loves – the perfect shade of grey. I like to hope that they will make me feel safe, and calm, and cherished. That they will also make me want to be reckless and take risks and be alive.

Now, let me start this by stating that I have nothing against One Direction. In fact, they seem like cheeky chappies and I’m sure their mothers love them very much. (In fact they are on my iPod - I AM NOT ASHAMED!)

BUT…I was in work, casually listening as What Makes You Beautiful on the park speakers and it suddenly hit me - behind the mask of perfectly styled hair and chinos lies a sinister motive.
Well, not exactly, but I DO think that the message behind certain of the lyrics isn’t necessarily what we should be promoting.

“You don’t know you’re beautiful… That’s what makes you beautiful.”
Personally, that seems to suggest that being insecure or unsure of your own attractiveness is desirable.
In fact, I could go as far as to say that it insinuates that low self-esteem is now considered an attractive thing.

Obviously, I am being somewhat over-dramatic (no surprise there!) but I do think it’s slightly odd - i would prefer a song that says “You are confident in your own aesthetic appeal and that is very attractive.”

Me and nuala. (aka letsgointothemystic.tumblr.com !) are snuggling.
Is it odd I’m finding it really comforting to have someone else in my bed?!

NIGHT GUYS!!

Is when you’re talking about wanting or having a tattoo and people are like “But they’ll be on your body forever.”

“What? REALLY?! Well good grief I had not realised that. Silly me.”