Right Person Wrong Time - Blog Posts

this and when the hurt wasn't intended and wasn't their fault

Wanting to be comforted by the person who hurt you is a different type of pain..

RIGHT PERSON WRONG (LIFE) TIME SHIPS ARE THE BEST BUT ALSO THE WORST.

LIKE, YEAH I LOVE GETTING MY HEART BROKEN INTO A MILLION TINY PIECES BUT THEN I HATE MYSELF FOR DOING IT

her i don't know who she is, but i know you've got a new her now. do you make her laugh? or worse, does she make you laugh? is she just as cynical as I was or is she just as bright as you are? you told me you got into college and all I could think was, does her hair curl downwards too? (congratulations) does she read and leave little notes in books or does she actually watch studio ghibli movies with you? god, do you guys fight? fight about whether everything you have is just a well balanced chemical reaction, about everything and nothing at all? are you happy? how did you move on? why do you still care? It meant the world to me when it happened, was it really just another sunday to you? I hope she's everything you actually deserve. no I can't possibly wish that for you. I can't hate you. I miss you terribly. I can't keep talking to you. I wish we were still friends. I wish we could be friends.

if you paint us like pressed flowers, will watering the blooming golds really make a difference? for you don't paint love, paintings blossom into vivid petals, with sunflowers turning to their love, no you don't paint, your hands trace over the pressed greens, definitive and sure, as if fate itself guided your hands. so perhaps if you drew me as a lover, perhaps i would've sent the letters i wrote to you, perhaps i wouldn't have been such a cynic to your light, and now i sit and wonder whether you'll read the note addressed to you tomorrow, or when you're 30 and quiet? i painted you a bleeding heart, was it mine or was it yours i do not know, you drew me as a pretty, lulling turn, but i painted the way gold blends into your dark hair, the blue of your hands, the liner on your eyes, i painted you, and in a twisted way i suppose, that is my way of saying i would've been yours, if only the flowers we plucked weren't already pressed, if the flowers grew, through time and space. I'm sorry i painted you the way i imagined it would be like, meeting you for the first time tomorrow, i preserve the flower i wish i had allowed to grow.

ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGE - Songs [5/10]