some nights, i throw my hands up. i flip my head back. i try to resist the migraine that grinds it back forward. i keep my eyes ahead, and pull them from rolling back into that black hole of a back of a head. my tired pupils tear and the burdened drops swish and sway back and along my limp bottom lids. i am exhausted, and too breathless to exhale frustration. instead i swallow a used breath back in, and like a late burp, the ball sits uncomfortably and flat in the gut. i retry to close my tired eyes and with my souring nose, inhale, exhale, as rhythmically as my mind can harmonize, and finally, my mind decides that, ok. let’s call it a night.

It sounds ludicrous

To feel burdened with too much trust.

I think that sometimes, there’s a fine line, and I’m not one to point out that line. But maybe… maybe this is where it stops, guys. 

I am not one to accept imperfection, yes, I am difficult. For that I should make up the extra effort needed for that extra length. I am not one to retire early from the day’s duties. I am not one to lose time of the wait for better days. I am not one to eat these relationships of the humanity that built them together first. But I am not one to keep myself alive, sane and alive, motivated, sane and alive, and all the time inspired, when no one seems to be gripping, clinging, tugging, pulling, or just, holding on to this idling sailboat. 

I don’t need you to explode into enthusiasm and renewed life. I just need you guys to remind me that… I am not my own committee. 

Cos in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you.
— Coldplay
One of my best summers, yet. :’)

One of my best summers, yet. :’)

I want you and you are not here. I pause
in this garden, breathing the colour thought is
before language into still air. Even your name
is a pale ghost and, though I exhale it again
and again, it will not stay with me. Tonight
I make you up, imagine you, your movements clearer
than the words I have you say you said before.

Wherever you are now, inside my head you fix me
with a look, standing here whilst cool late light
dissolves into the earth. I have got your mouth wrong,
but still it smiles. I hold you closer, miles away,
inventing love, until the calls of nightjars
interrupt and turn what was to come, was certain,
into memory. The stars are filming us for no one.
— Carol Ann Duffy, “Miles Away” (via petrichour)
Reblogged from I am a Garden Rose