She left, and never returned.
-kirkshiresloss-
//reason#23//
(why I ended my life that day in June)
Sometimes I feel like this has all been a sick dream.
That you and I only exist on astral planes
Where love is plentiful;
Yet miscommunication runs rampant.
Seems to be a loop in time
and neither one of us can break
without losing the other
Tell me,
Am I what you stand to lose?
Is there another thumb
that fits perfectly in the palm of your hand?
How many nights have you went to sleep without whistling?
Is there any love for me left,
In your arms or in your bed?
Because I fear my soul has lost its splendor
To even the devil himself.
I have nothing left to offer in exchange for your love,
But my own confusion.
-kirkshiresloss-
(Kerouac's loss)
kirkshiresloss reblogged
screamon-deactivated20230625
lucille clifton
kirkshiresloss reblogged
latibule-e-deactivated20231012
— Kim Visda, from “For Lack Of A Better Poem.”
It speaks beyond words..
kirkshiresloss reblogged
kirkshiresloss reblogged
Jane O. Wayne // Kate Jacobs
kirkshiresloss reblogged
whatremainzunsaid-deactivated20
to have someone not look away...
If only these words were yours .. I tried to tell you.
@fadedawaywiththebreeze I still love you
kirkshiresloss reblogged
Most nights I don't sleep. I'll catch 3 or 4 hours and be up again. Leaving one nightmare into another. Keep having the same dream everything is super white and crisp. I can hear the fake ass birds outside I can feel the warmth of your body beside me. I smell your hair and and doze back off but I never leave this dream everything goes black and I wake up to you rubbing my hands because they hurt. Likd when you rubbed them that one morning I remember thinking Justin please don't fuck this up because no one ever cared enough to do that for me. it's only a nightmare because I have to relive it and wake up to a reality where you and I are miles apart in more ways than one.
You never could sleep unless a part of you was touching me. Some nights I would crawl into bed just to make sure that you got sleep. And watching you sleep became a hobby of mine. And I can tell you where every hair on your head is supposed to be. I'd run my fingers over your skin. and I just knew I got you too soon.
Everything has this dull monochromatic look to it now. The paint doesn't coat the canvas & the colors don't blend like they used to. Even my brush strokes are desperate; pressing so hard I tend to rip the canvas apart. And it's always been so easy to leave at the slightest bit of discomfort but not this time. How could I leave someone who has given me so much and never asked for anything in return but my time and attention...
Like trying to recapture a moment.
Like lightning trapped in a bottle.
Like The Sun also rising and setting at the same time.
Feeling like every moment we've ever had is coursing through my veins and now i can't tell if I'm high or dying but baby it's almost too late to call it. If I could hand you the loaded gun I sure wish you'd pull the trigger on it all. I can't bring myself to do it.
I only write about it here because it has to have somewhere to belong. There is no more room inside of me to fit these memories. But I won't set them down...I won't ever set them down...
-kirkshiresloss
//dog in a manger//
@fadedawaywiththebreeze miss you bean..
kirkshiresloss reblogged
Blythe Baird // Dave Eggers
Where am I?.
Source: tumblr.com
You only miss me at 3a.m. when your loneliness crawls the walls of that apartment we used to call Home.
You only miss me when the other side of the bed isn't occupied by another placebo to get you by for the night.
You only miss me when an Isbell song comes on and you can't help but get dizzy remembering all the times I spun you around the kitchen like you were floating on air.
You only miss me when you're down on your luck and there's noone there to make me a common enemy.
You only miss me when you walk by the closet where you shoved all my paintings when I left. because spite wouldn't let you return them to me, yet you couldn't bear to look at them anymore..
You only miss me when you go to pick up those paint brushes that used to be mine. When you think of gesso, Bob Ross, or liquid white. Or Alabama 3 times. Salt & the Sea , The Lumineers, my fingers on the piano keys. Asking you to get me, when I felt insecure. And I know you couldn't have cleaned up all the paint that was on the floor.
You've deconstructed all we've built until you've rid yourself of the memories. But the things you seem to throw away are what meant the most to me. Pardon me for being rude or if this was unexpected. But I was always told since I was young much is given to those whom much is tested.
And ive felt forgotten, lost, and invisible before but I've never felt this small. sitting here by my lonesome, wondering if you even miss me at all..
-kirkshiresloss-
//deadsea//
03.23 original oil (24x30) cotton canvas "the last time"
#lostcore#dark academia#lovecore#writerscreed#poeticstories#poetryportal#original writing#writtenundertheinfluence#missing you#writersconnection#aritsts on tumblr#artistsupport#artistssupportingartists#painter of the night#oil on canvas#brushstrokes#poets corner#twcpoetry#writing the storm#writerscorner
Comes over me so swiftly
I haven't time to think.
I know I swore It off
but I really need a drink.
These decisions that I'm making
they ain't making any sense
but my hands start to shaking
when i speak of you in past tense
theres no one here to talk to
when im sitting all alone
I'd rather smash this bottle
and pick up a phone
but we need no melodrama
no audience to critique
when we both were born of trauma
Lovers sharing a karmic link
As im drowning in these feelings
I can feel you in my bones
Hell may not heal me
but even Hades needs a home.
-kirkshiresloss-
//Persephone//
I guess it all boils down to attraction ...
You and I, we were on a collision course.
The pull was undeniable, ripping through the fabric of space and time; racing through the cosmos... a world destroyer careening towards an immovable object.
I never saw it coming...I thought you were always meant to be my Sunday morning coming down.
My hallelujah. My amen.
An undeserved blessing. My saving grace.
Softest hand to hold when my past transgressions were too much to bear.
Where are you now?
As the weight of the world sits on these broad shoulders where you used to lay your worrisome burdens.
The place where safety & comfort held hands..
Do you know where you are?
Because It's 427 a.m. Monday morning
The air is ripe with regret and I'm packing up to leave this town.
Without you.
And I ain't never coming back...
-kirkshiresloss-
//Monachopsis//
Most nights I don't sleep. I'll catch 3 or 4 hours and be up again. Leaving one nightmare into another. Keep having the same dream everything is super white and crisp. I can hear the fake ass birds outside I can feel the warmth of your body beside me. I smell your hair and and doze back off but I never leave this dream everything goes black and I wake up to you rubbing my hands because they hurt. Likd when you rubbed them that one morning I remember thinking Justin please don't fuck this up because no one ever cared enough to do that for me. it's only a nightmare because I have to relive it and wake up to a reality where you and I are miles apart in more ways than one.
You never could sleep unless a part of you was touching me. Some nights I would crawl into bed just to make sure that you got sleep. And watching you sleep became a hobby of mine. And I can tell you where every hair on your head is supposed to be. I'd run my fingers over your skin. and I just knew I got you too soon.
Everything has this dull monochromatic look to it now. The paint doesn't coat the canvas & the colors don't blend like they used to. Even my brush strokes are desperate; pressing so hard I tend to rip the canvas apart. And it's always been so easy to leave at the slightest bit of discomfort but not this time. How could I leave someone who has given me so much and never asked for anything in return but my time and attention...
Like trying to recapture a moment.
Like lightning trapped in a bottle.
Like The Sun also rising and setting at the same time.
Feeling like every moment we've ever had is coursing through my veins and now i can't tell if I'm high or dying but baby it's almost too late to call it. If I could hand you the loaded gun I sure wish you'd pull the trigger on it all. I can't bring myself to do it.
I only write about it here because it has to have somewhere to belong. There is no more room inside of me to fit these memories. But I won't set them down...I won't ever set them down...
-kirkshiresloss
//dog in a manger//
kirkshiresloss reblogged
“Sure, I’m afraid of what might lead to my death: car accidents, plane crashes, drowning. But, I’m more afraid of what won’t kill me: people dying, people leaving, the silences that seem to never end. It’s the idea of having to live through something that scares me, not the end itself.”
— OB. (via aurelle)
kirkshiresloss reblogged
This liminality (between you and I) has my soul feeling sold out to a tattered dream. I still feel you more than ever lately, yet conversation has no common place in your mind. The raw truth is setting in that you no longer love me.. Then I sit and think about how it came to this.
What brought us here?
It was me.
Me and my worries.
Me and my insecurities.
Me and my contingencies.
Me and my inability to reciprocate affection.
It was me.
me.
me.
And I wonder if it's too late to ask you how you're feeling? How was your day? How did you sleep?
Are you erasing all of our memories?
-kirkshiresloss-
//missed-you-again//
Im so tired of a life full of 'almost''s. A life full of 'we could have been great''s. I'm just so desperately ragged and exhausted from starting over. Over and over... without the option of getting lost in wondering why and what if. I have too much to lose to get stuck there like I see everyone else doing. It actually kind of looks lovely from my perspective. Constantly chasing answers I know I'll never find. Seems like a beautiful world of ignorant nostalgia that I'd love to be lost in. That paradise is foreign to me though, as i am in search of something that will cost me more than sleepless nights and bitter complacency. I cannot be satisfied to wonder all my days traveling through the past like a movie I've seen a thousand times. Although theres always another detail you missed before, it doesn't change the ending. So I have to keep on going, i haven't been the star of the show in years. So I do not have the chance to be still and ponder. Or else ill lose the only chance I've got to make sure that the only person who has ever loved me, makes it to a paradise that none of us have ever had the privilege to roam.
Although the finality cuts through me like a hot knife. I do love you enough to let you go....I never wanted this to end like this. I never wanted this to end. Is this really the end??
This liminality (between you and I) has my soul feeling sold out to a tattered dream. I still feel you more than ever lately, yet conversation has no common place in your mind. The raw truth is setting in that you no longer love me.. Then I sit and think about how it came to this.
What brought us here?
It was me.
Me and my worries.
Me and my insecurities.
Me and my contingencies.
Me and my inability to reciprocate affection.
It was me.
me.
me.
And I wonder if it's too late to ask you how you're feeling? How was your day? How did you sleep?
Are you erasing all of our memories?
-kirkshiresloss-
//missed-you-again//
Like this cigarette I'm smoking
A future fading fast.
An old promise broken.
A fatal car crash.
A heart on the mend.
The other in the blender.
Resentment moving in.
Another great pretender.
Things will improve.
So they all say.
May prove to be true,
But I can't tell today.
Because I miss her hand
Holding my thumb.
And I ache for her love
Like air to my lungs.
Those bare feet dangling
As I picked her up to dance
Round and round we'd go
We were in a trance.
I could go on forever
She meant everything to me.
I could never regret her
My garbanzo bean.
-kirkshiresloss-
//d.o.a.//