pluto

“i have so much love for her. and she doesn’t want it. and i can’t have it because it’s not mine, and I can’t give it to anyone or anything else because it’s not theirs. it’s hers, all hers and there’s no where else to put it. it’s so fucking heavy, and i have nowhere to put it.”

“i have so much love for her. and she doesn’t want it. and i can’t have it because it’s not mine, and I can’t give it to anyone or anything else because it’s not theirs. it’s hers, all hers and there’s no where else to put it. it’s so fucking heavy, and i have nowhere to put it.”

the loneliness of your 20s sits on the back of your neck as you try to stand up straighter. you cut your nails too close to your skin, and it takes everything in you just to buy eggs and milk at the grocery store. nostalgia is a backseat driver next to you on your drive home

— allsska

i feel so disconnected from everything i desire. i yearn for it, imagine how it feels and tastes and immediately my throat seizes up & my hands shake and i’m dry heaving the want out of me. what does it mean when your body rejects the love you plead for? does it not want me back?

“i have so much love for her. and she doesn’t want it. and i can’t have it because it’s not mine, and I can’t give it to anyone or anything else because it’s not theirs. it’s hers, all hers and there’s no where else to put it. it’s so fucking heavy, and i have nowhere to put it.”

my dreams used to be filled with grandeur. exotic destinations, incredible opportunities, something I created mine, and mine alone. and now, all I want is to go home to a warm house. to laugh with the people i love. to keep the peace I have.

what do I do now that i’ve returned? am I the same? do I want to be?