for the boy who cannot love without hurting

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for the boy who cannot love without hurting

Her trembling and tears match the rhythm of your lies.

Why do you shatter a heart that you so heavily depend on?


Who the fuck taught you how to love?


Why aren’t you capable of understanding that happiness can live at home?

Your solutions can be found in a place that you already know

Did you know

That emotional connectivity can breed understanding can breed hope can breed happiness


The love is there, but the lover is foolish.

The lover is selfish.

The lover is fucking weak.

Searching for “happiness” at the expense of her pain.

Why are you trying to kill her?


Sometimes i wonder if it’s called black love because it is so empty--

The way that you rushed in and created a void.

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for the black girl who has lost hope:


for the black girl who has lost hope:

Every morning you wake up feeling unwanted and useless, and sometimes you wonder when you'll be strong enough to make it your last of feeling unworthiness or your last of breath.

Sometimes, you wish you could convey how much it hurts and how you can plaster on a smile and joke and laugh but still feel your insides rotting.

You can plan for a future and still not want one. You don’t know if you want one.

You let all of the negative things consume you sometimes, and that is a dangerous thing. You know. You have common sense, but you're still trying to gain control. And that is the most difficult and exhausting process. To control a mind that should belong to you.

You believe you're fine; you try to tell yourself that you're fine. But you think that you think about death everyday. You don’t know if that’s normal. But maybe you don’t want it to happen because instead of doing something a few nights ago, you thought about calling the suicide hotline.

You're afraid that a cure doesn’t exist because sometimes you feel fine. But maybe things aren’t. Every time you wait for the subway, you wonder how quickly things could end if you just jump before the train comes.

You don’t know if people understand how hurt you are, and you don’t want to show it. You want to help other people. You want them to be optimistic and believe in life and hope. So, you try to be that positive light.

You don’t want attention. You don’t want to be seen as someone who overreacts. And you do want to be happy.

You really try.

It's hard.

And you're tired. The most exhausting thing is being sad and not knowing why. You feel enclosed. You feel gray. You feel like nothing.

Depression can crush your light, but you don't have to live in eternal darkness. The battle will make you stronger, babygirl, and I know this because I know you.

And I know you because I am you.




for the women who gave their all:

The idea of love has become tarnished. You crafted your each and every movement and word so that it could replicate perfection. Your relationship became your art. You gave so much of yourself that all you had left was him. 

You tried to become masterful in creating an untainted love. You used all of the passion and fire that you had left to execute a masterpiece, but the paint began to dry out. The brushes became worn. What once was a love bursting with desire and devotion transformed into a thing of routine and comfort. Distaste and resentment were bred.  

But still you tried. You tried using new tools. You tried finding new functions for old tools. You worked, and you worked, and you worked-- but the art just didn’t feel right. You put your heart and soul into amending something that wouldn’t budge. And even if you did fix it, it would never be the same. 

For the woman who gave her all, I applaud you. You tried to do handstands for a man who made you fall each time. 

For the woman who gave her all, I also scold you. You weren’t placed on this earth to fix a man that has made a life of being broken. You weren’t created to deal out acceptances for every apology that was thrown your way. You could try to fix and fix and fix, but what will happen when you break? What will happen when you run out of energy and can no longer help yourself? 

Protect your heart, soul, and light. 
Why are you fixing a house that you can't even live in?