WHERE’S HIS MOTHER BURIED
“a bit larger than we expected”
they gave birth to Hagrid bye.
This needs answers
finally-thriving
onheltheehuman
It’s one in the morning and I am still tossing and turning in my bed, I can’t sleep. The silence is too loud, can’t seem to stifle my thoughts stirring so deep. I just want to make sense to someone, more sense than I was making to myself. I’m tired of convincing myself that its better to sleep alone in my bed than to be in the arms of someone I love who could have easily unloved me too. I’m tired of dreaming of someone, and then waking up only to reach over and find emptiness on the other side of the bed. I’m tired of giving the wrong people the right pieces of me, to do what they will, what they please.
How can I imagine someone caressing my hair and locking fingers with mine if I don’t even know how he looks like? I have been homesick for a home I’ve never been to, home in someone’s arms. I have been praying to God to give me that right person, waiting for that right moment, because I’ve got too much love, so much that my heart can’t contain it anymore. I need to pour it out to the one who deserves it. I have been wishing for a man who won’t break out in hives when he hears the word “commitment”. I’ve been wishing for a man who is not just a one night companion, who will provide temporary warmth, not someone who comes when the moon appears in the sky and quickly leaves before the sun rises. I deserve to be both someone’s Saturday night and Sunday morning. Someone who wouldn’t tremble when our hands intertwine because this is how galaxies collide. Someone who won’t be terrified with my scars but chose to write stories across my skin with his lips all the time. I wish for someone who’s kiss tastes like revolution.
Get here before my heart gets too cold and shatters into ice crystals. Get here before my heart gets so stubborn that it forgets how to bleed for someone. Get here before I stop believing in signs and wishes on 11:11. Get here before I run out of reasons to write, reasons to rhyme. Get here before I get too weary. Get here before I build my walls too high you can’t break it down anymore. Get here before I’m unable to believe when you finally decide that I deserve so much love, don’t blame me when I’m so used with sugar coated lies and half assed promises. Get here, because I have been practicing my “Yes” for the past 3,712 days. Get here because my heart is with you all along.
— Sylvia Marie, Cold Hearted
