quilltherapy

1. It was an excuse - after all, that garden was magical, that warm afternoon. “We don’t have any pictures together,” he said in September. I agreed. My birthday is October. (I should have guessed). 2. I was just trying to grasp what was left of me, of the modesty I had discarded for the fake I felt was love. just trying to preserve myself just hiding from myself, this time behind a camera posed as art. 3. I wanted to make us infinite. I wanted to make us fate. I kept pieces of you in my heart like buried treasure. I held them so tightly, collected these fleeting images and kept them close. I held them so tig

"come on, Forget-Me-Not!" flirted emerald Snapdragon, "tell me, what’s it like to have control over me, for once?" like fire, the cerulean bloom did crackle and hiss and walked away in a heated, dreadful silence. "why do you call me that?" asked uncertain Snapdragon, "tell me, why don’t you speak with me like you used to?" like salt, the windowed flame did flicker thrice - and was swept away by the threatening, stormy sea breeze. "please, my sun-kissed Fox," begged hesitant Snapdragon, "shower me in loving words like you did before." like rain in drought, the elusive creature did rarely show his face, if so, only for laughter

december 2011: soulmates? something out of a fairytale! handsome Prince Charming and the sweet Princess are unlikely childhood sweethearts their scripted fate tucked away under my bed. april 2012: soulmates? it’s just like in the fairytales. we flirted with chance but knelt on destiny my eyes were bright and wide as true love’s first kiss hangs promised in the air. april 2013: soulmates? the fairytale wasn’t mine. I tried to fill in the gaps with ice cream and picnics but we were a jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces - don’t worry, I thought, I am still so very young. july 2013: soulmates? the fairytale forgott

1. you are so unbelievably oblivious, even by my standards. I sent you that picture yeah, I know you have it. love, I wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to whisper in my ear all of the things you told me this time last year but apparently you don’t feel that way anymore. but I have evidence you once did when I can't sleep, I type into the search bar "love" finding bittersweet comfort there, burying it somewhere among the tears I shed over what isn't anymore. 2. you are so unbelievably clueless, even by my standards. because yes, I took your picture because you make me happy. I also took your picture because I love you because

i’ve been locked behind a brick wall for seventeen years i’ve painted every inch of it with dreams of freedom i’ve filed away centimetres of mortar long after I was ordered into bed slimmed myself down before I was noticed until i could slip through the cracks “it must be her fault if she’s trapped.” people hear the singing and believe that i am free but most days the tonnes of concrete around me are just too heavy. some then tell me i do not need to destroy myself - i tell them that otherwise i cannot breathe. i always sleep with the windows open and my bedroom door firmly closed. i’ve been locked

1. it's 12:07am and I finally feel enough to write 2. funny I seem to feel enough for the both of us 3. I nearly cried when we hung up the phone 4. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone because like good poetry or that song that will always bring a tear to your eye there has never been anyone who has made me feel quite as much as you 5. I sometimes wonder why I ever let myself love you so I remember how you are a breath of fresh air in a city that lives in stagnant smog I always wonder why I ever wondered that in the first place 6. you are the weight of a feather on my shoulders and in my arms 7. you are beautiful 8. awash

Here I am in tears since pretending it was summer left me with a heartbreak love came up and came asunder. Here I have been telling lies because nothing good will follow during weather still too chilly to be wearing shorts tomorrow. It isn’t like he hurt me or as if he lead me on it’s somewhat like a missing step on a flight of stairs long gone. With the knowledge that it means a lot, (but nothing much at all); I’ll kiss you like I love you, (and I’ll try not to fall). But I will tumble down that path (a heart, prepared to bruise); once again, I will plummet, with nothing left to lose.

I was embarrassed by my own self-perceived, foolhardy blunder, so blindly I characterised a beautiful boy with a heart of gold as a hurtful, destructive storm. I took a hinted secret, tinted with a warm October gust of wind for a personality, to mean that his kindness somehow paralleled my ability to aggressively distance myself from people in my life. I assumed that he was all I wanted but all I would never get, and told myself that chemistry was something we didn’t have in common. I convinced myself that ideas were the only thing that I could truly and entirely love. One night of contented laughs and nostalgic smiles, as well as some

I felt the stinging salt spray hit the back of my neck as she warned for me to choose wisely. Five times this year I have let a wayward current pull me under and drag me out to sea when I was perfectly capable of strongly swimming away. I met a precarious riptide in July. I thought that he would carry my wooden sailing boat safely across the bay, but he saw straight through my thin wet sails and flimsy ropes, blowing me with a strong gust of wind far enough away for me to hardly see the peninsula across the hazy waters. Some overdue September sunshine finally cleared the impending fog, and soon enough a red sunset appeared, who taught me th