I Write So Much Better When My Heart Is Broken, Maybe Some People Are Meant To Hurt So They Can Create

might just be me but I don't think how Ali played with Emily's feelings for so long is a good representation of a healthy relationship

pet peeve: having to load the bowl again after you finish it

What does it really matter who said "I love you," first if I am the last to hang on?

Excerpt from a book I haven’t written yet

Hi

OKAY WHO WANTS TO START A KAYLOR PODCAST THAT RECOUNTS THE ENTIRE CHRONOLOGICAL KAYLOR TIMELINE FROM FIRST MEETING TO LOVER

can we still talk about twilight on here

i love everything about the way you make me fall apart, it’s been 2 whole years and it still stings when you don’t call but i haven’t lost my grip the way i thought i was suppose to, and i haven’t forgotten the way you tasted, and you haven’t stop coming back around at the most inconvenient times, because for some reason we love the burn, we love the way it hurts to see each other in someone else’s arms, we love the way we always end up back together.

(via weallwritealong)

the artist’s guide to falling in love;

I. Find someone who makes your heart flutter, in a small, innocent way. Maybe it’s their cheekbones or their laugh or their music taste. Romanticise it in every way possible.

II.Fall way harder than you ever intended to. Write poetry about them and listen to songs that make you ache to remind yourself of them and pine after them in the most pathetic way possible. Reason with yourself that this is pain is good for your creativity.

III.Tell them, out loud or otherwise, but let the words slip out your lips, waterfalls, and tidal waves of destruction out of your mouth. If they don’t feel the same, go home and write poetry about rejection and revenge. Press backspace on it all and let numbness take over. If they feel the same, fall harder, the way angels do when they fall from heaven.

IV. Romanticise everything. The two freckles on their right eyebrow and their hands and fingers and the way they breathe. The way they take their coffee and the fact that they really want to spend time with you. Make yourself ache in the best way possible and occupy your mind with their smell, their favourite films, and every conversation you’ve ever had with them.

V. Watch it fall apart without really realising that it’s happening. Let yourself yell and scream and try to keep it together and remember how much you love the freckles on their eyebrow but forget that they like their coffee without milk or sugar and forget to understand. When they leave, remember they have black coffee and that you’re not enough, you’re not enough for tropical thunderstorms and summer breezes. Begin to write more poetry about heartbreak and wish you could make it stop. Dream of hurricanes and lightning.

VI. Make to do lists and begin to feel okay in the wake of their absence. Drink tea and practise self-care, see the friends you neglected, and remember that the next time you fall in love, you will understand; remember how they take their coffee and their tea, and remember to love both the freckles and the scars, inside and out. Remember to love who they are, and not just their aesthetics. Don’t just love the thunderstorm, love all of the weather that they bring.

there’s a ten year old boy in my high school honors math class who speaks six different languages.

in a language that doesn’t have the word ‘love’ I say

“I still have the receipt from the film we watched on

our first date” I say “I bought four red sweaters after

you told me it was your favorite color” I say “it’s been

exactly two hundred and twelve days since our last kiss”

I say “last week, in a hotel room, the complementary

pantene shampoo was the type that you use” I say “I walked

around smelling like you and nobody else cried over it”

I say “yes, I’m still crying over it” I say “the other day

somebody’s ringtone went off in class and it was the same

noise you set for your alarm and it took me a minute

to figure out where I knew it from” I say “I’m terrified

of someday not knowing where I knew it from” I say

“every poem I write nowadays is about the same thing”

I say “I’d almost give up writing altogether if it meant

we could try again” I say “please” I say “please” I say

“please.”

another untitled poem where I’m exceptionally loud about how much I love people // WRITTEN BY CAITLIN CONLON