Falling Up

By couldve-done-better

2.3K 204 93

A collection of poems about me falling in the wrong direction, and me falling in love with the wrong person. More

a note before reading
people are shit
mixing paint
water
with love
spaghetti
love is scary
blank
crushing
im sorry
mood swings
no idea
beauty
i love you
sleep
knowing
this week
you
silent
i wish you knew
red
mess
explain this
fall
you (part 2 apparently)
safe
34 days
glass skies
impromptu goodbye
screenshot
you part 3 maybe?
align
lonely
dead
Glass
alive
36
ceilings
38
39
40
41
honesty
fast forward
You, because why not.
first love
happy
47
closed
talks
50
a list of things i should've told you, but never did
chaos
maybe
bad apples
a love letter that i will never send
what can i do
57
garden of eden
speak to me
sunday mornings
an ending
two ghosts
okay
dream
wonder
Storm
Forget
blind men
70
Trial by Fire

star dust

47 2 0
By couldve-done-better

I no longer know what its like to be enveloped in someone else's atmosphere. I no longer am accompanied by another gravitational  pull which carries me into a safe point in an endless galaxy.

But, in a way, it means that I am free from that anchor and I can blast off into an unknown universe to discover the parts of myself that burnt away while I became a part of your orbit.

I want to find who I was.

I need to find who I am.

I am surrounded by people who find comfort in the arms of another, and I find myself missing that feeling. The safety of being knotted up in someone else's warmth.

But I know that the warmth that came in your embrace was a toxic ocean that I drowned myself in day by day.

I cannot run back to you like a scared traveler who encountered nothing on their journey. I have to stay on this righteous path to some sort of discovery, no matter how small it may be.

I must find something worthwhile in this endless universe drowning in stars. I have to be something in this vast land of star dust and planets.

But I must be something, without you.

For you talked about my failures all too often, and put my sanity last on your check list.

My star dust was ash between your fingertips that you used to draw your malicious portraits upon my skin.

You used your blood like bargaining chips in a game of poker that became a little too risky for teens to be playing.

You sent my body into space with no oxygen, just to watch me squirm under the pressure of having nothing, of having no one.

And it seemed you enjoyed watching me hurt.

Because you never intervened when my head told me I would be better off dead. In fact, you almost cheered it on, testing my limits.

You almost drove me to the point of endless discretion in an unknown corner, alone with myself and no one else.

You almost drove me to the edge of the solar systems, to where I could dangle my feet over the edge and see how long it would take to lose my balance.

But I left.

I left you when I found someone else's star dust on the peaks of your lips, and lies under the breaks in your nails.

I left you when you cared none about the imploding of my star, to be lost in a void of silence.

I left you, when you left me.

So I guess that makes us even.

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