kaoriart:

Eduardo Mata Icaza
❝ When I say, I love you, it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are.
❝ I don’t know when it happened, or why it
happened. You just stopped. There were
no more phone calls in the middle of the
night when you couldn’t sleep, no more
texts that read, “I miss you.” The only time
you said I was beautiful, was when I asked
if I was. It’s not that I needed your validation,
I just missed hearing it. When you answered
the phone your voice sounded dull, the excuses
were, “I’m tired.” “I don’t feel well.” I never
knew the right words to say until after the
conversation ended, my talking just felt like
crunching leaves under your feet. You’d walk
over me subconsciously, I felt like I was the
gum on the bottom of your shoe. You’d get
rid of me faster than you’d let me stay.
I always held on a little too tight, a little too
long, I guess I was just waiting for the favor
to be returned. But your arms became
cemented to your sides, like walls around
your soul. I became the vines growing up
the bricks, trying to be tall enough to get a
peek of what’s behind them. I never was
tall enough, I never was good enough.
Soon enough the I love you’s just slipped
your mind, you forgot. I stopped noticing
how long it took you to reply, it became
our new normal. The nights we went without
talking, the mornings that went without the
good, the days we talked for five minutes, it
was all normal. You stopped. So, I’ll stop.
Or at least, I’ll try..
i.c. // "you stopped loving me" (via delicatepoetry)
aplapistepse:

exactly.
❝ You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Oscar Wilde

(Source: booksquoteslove)

And when we speak now, seldom as that is, the old language returns. I wonder if it makes old names make guest appearances in your mind. If you can feel the skin of my neck near yours one more time. Do you reach across the bed for a shape, no longer there. Do you remember it clearly or is it all just memories of memories. Is there still warmth from my fingers tracing the contours of your skin, left somewhere in your body. If you smell the smell of how I used to smell in a crowd, do you think of these things. Is something missing in everyone else’s or someone new’s voice. Will they never know quite how to laugh or breathe just behind your ear. Do they know what you look like when you want to leave a party, when you’ve had too much of people. Could they rebuild your body out of clay if they needed to, because they’ve touched it so many times. Does your back still arch the way it used to when I still kissed you.

Does an old singer sing an old song on an old radio.

Do the lyrics still shake your fucking soul.

Did it sound like this?

I wrote this for you
❝ The nightingales are sobbing in
The orchards of our mothers,
And hearts that we broke long ago
Have long been breaking others;
Tears are round, the sea is deep:
Roll them overboard and sleep.
❝ There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You’ve ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can’t say any of that.
Where He Went

(Source: booksquoteslove)

❝ I think I’m losing it—I don’t know what’s happening, what happened, but I look at you, I look at you, and I love you so much. Not because of anything you’ve said, or done, or anything at all. I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you.
Never Fade 

(Source: quotes-shape-us)

❝ I fell knee-deep into those brown eyes before I had fallen in love with the kindness in your heart. I hope she appreciates the way you kiss compliments into her shoulder blades and write love letters with your smile. I will spend months scrubbing your name off of my brain. Her fingerprints cover you like a crime scene, and all I want is to stare into your eyes.
the boy with the almond eyes | S.B.

(Source: fallinlovewithapoet)

❝ …and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, That was fine. And your life is a long line of fine.
Gone Girl

(Source: wordsnquotes, via alittlefragile)

❝ She buried her ears into the calm of his heartbeat, and in a matter of seconds: fell terribly in love with the way her loneliness fell softly and suddenly, asleep, in his chest.
Christopher Poindexter

(Source: larmoyante)

❝ Ana Iris once asked me if I loved him and I told her about the lights in my old home in the capital, how they flickered and you never knew if they would go out or not. You put down your things and you waited and couldn’t do anything really until the lights decided. This, I told her, is how I feel.
This Is How You Lose Her

(Source: memoriasconsazon, via jolijnanna)

ST