Maybe you only feel alive when you feel hurt. Maybe you're a masochist who looks for something or someone who can hurt you. Maybe you don't like basking in general happiness, maybe being content with your life is mundane. (Or maybe you've been screwed over so many times you're not sure what happiness feels like anymore, and Hurt is default. Happiness is overrated anyway.) Maybe you only feel human when you're hurt, and you need to be reminded that you are human and not a fucking robot. Maybe you only feel human when this heart that pumps in your chest squeezes against your ribcage so hard it might explode. Maybe you only feel human when you cry until you're dry and there are no more tears left in you. Maybe when you feel like you're dying that's when you finally feel alive.

BL by callyn, literature

110610 by callyn, literature

Fall by callyn, literature

Literature

Fall

. We always fall together. We fell in love with each other. And later, when You fell out of love with me (and fell under her spell) I fell

Cracks by callyn, literature

Literature

Cracks

I. It's hard to tell where the sky begins and where the ground ends. The start is the end It doesn't matter which way I go— I move around in circles and the end is the start and I keep coming back to you. II. There are cobwebs and dust in my ribcage where my heart used to be. In its place you left porcelain teacups with hand-painted saucers, mismatched like you and me. III. I am tired of lonely one-sided conversations with a faded two-dimensional version of you. The (glow-in-the-dark) stars have fallen, the dawn has broken, and the tea has gone cold. IV. Today I star

Love is not a Prerequisite by callyn, literature

Literature

Love is not a Prerequisite

Love you, you said to my chest. Real-ly. [It wasn't a question.] [No reply.] But it's okay. I know that words from your lips are either (a) lies and untruths (b) empty promises (c) insincere apologies or

Once Upon an October by callyn, literature

Literature

Once Upon an October

I loved you once upon an October when millipedes curled up tight and hid under fallen leaves. We walked hand in hand in the rain and wrote our names in the sand. You loved me once upon an October when the heart that beat against your ribs was not yours but mine. You loved me with coffee-flavoured kisses and drew hearts on my palms. We loved once upon an October when the smell of you still stained my skin/my soul/my self/me. We tied knots on a string, one for each day that passed us by, and found— October didn’t last for long.

Every tiny cubic millimetre by callyn, literature

Literature

Every tiny cubic millimetre

Every tiny cubic millimetre of your brain is filled with her. She's in your dreams at night, till early morning light. Her long brown hair Her skin so fair Great sense of style Bewitching smile. You drown in her deep eyes; And dream of her smooth thighs. Her coral lips Her swaying hips The way she talks And how she walks. You tell me how you lovehermissherneedherwanther, And how you think of her every second/minute/hour/day; not knowing that— Every tiny cubic milimetre of my brain is filled with you.

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