Poppy fields

Esther. +65.
I want to start doing the things I love.

“ I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you’ve ever said to me. If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you. You would say it’s too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can’t be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast. ”

—     Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas  (via larmoyante)

(via a-thousand-words)

I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to stand on top of the Brooklyn Bridge and jump as if wings would magically grow and I’d fly somewhere to safety. I don’t know how a knife feels against my skin, when the blood leaks onto my pillows, and gets all over my blanket. I never had to hide pill bottles under my bed so my mother and friends wouldn’t find out whenever they came over. I never had swim too far out into the ocean and hope the waves would somehow consume me, and I’d drown physically as I already did mentally.

No, I was never brave enough to take my own life. I can’t say I will ever do so. And you may say I do not understand what it is like to wake up in the morning and wish I was laying with the dirt and soil. You can say that I don’t understand what it’s like to taste my own blood when I speak. No, I do not understand the tears that flow out of your eyes every night and I may never understand how you smile when you literally feel like death is riding with you every step of the way. I may not see darkness covering the sun and I may not feel the burn of this invisible match you try to set your own house down with, but I want to. I want you to show me what it is that drives you to the edge of this cliff you wish I’d push you off of.

And if you do, let me show you my side too. I want you to taste the sunlight on your skin and let these birds show you what it’s like to be liberated. Some mornings, even the sun does not wish to rise but it does every single day. Don’t you think the moon cries on some nights too? My dear, we all shed tears but I do not wish to drown in them. I do not wish for you to swim in your own pool of blood. So listen to me - I may not be brave enough to leave this life behind but I am strong enough to stay. I think you are too.

Death is not a topic I choose to write about. I could write about broken hearts and love steered wrong but not death, not even my own. Because I do not wish for the changing of weathers to end. I don’t choose to get lost in forests, but I do and so will you. You choose to swim but why let yourself drown? If you ride this roller coaster, you are going up but how can you expect it to just go one way? Where is the fun in that? Up and down, up and down - that is science. That is reality.

Stop locking yourself up in your room. You spend so many nights with wet blankets and so many dawns with tired, swollen eyes. Be strong and hold on. These self-inflicted wounds will lead to scars you wear on your skin forever. You try to hide these stories but stories are meant to be shared. You are built to endure, to be tough, and to be sturdy. You are born to fix and be fixed, not by me or anyone else but yourself. You are your own mess and my mother always told me that if I made it, I better clean it up. I believe that you can.

I may not understand but I want to. Let me in, please let me in so I can just listen. Because sometimes all you may need is someone just to be there, to watch you start to build yourself back together.

—    
A Letter To The Ones I Wish I Could Save // A Story A Day #285 by Ming D. Liu

(via mingdliu)

(via mingdliu)