trapped in ùtgarðar

Month

December 2009

Wow kids. Mature, ya’ll. You know what? Maybe she was doing it for attention. Even if that’s true, who cares? It was a cry for help and goddamn that doesn’t make suicide jokes or any of this shit I’m seeing okay.

And since you’re all acting like children, that’s what I’ll call you…there’s still that possibility that she wasn’t out for attention or Tumblarity. Five minutes ago you were all “Omg we’re such good people”. Fuck that, if you can be making suicide jokes and LOLattentionwhore memes five minutes later, you’re not good people. You’re cuntbags.

And I know there are people out there who are actually taking this seriously. Thank God. You kids are cool. But the rest of you? I’m ashamed.

Dec 31, 2009
FOLLOWERS

So, my account I use for reblogs and shit thats not writing is ignorethisshit. So if you see a reply from that account and you’re like “heywut?”, that’s why.

Dec 30, 2009
beauty

i know you’re not awake

but god is the moon beautiful

and it reminded me of you

and that will never be a line because I don’t need them

and that will never be a line because who would think to kid?

i need you like i need a highway to wish on, and you need me like you need

a way out of here

and when i say that you are beautiful it is not because i think you’re

feminine

or because i want to

belittle you

it’s because you are a thing of beauty, and sometimes i just get caught up in looking at you

and when i call you cute

or

handsome

or

sexy

it’s not because i need

or want

to hear it back

it’s because sometimes i almost can’t hold it in

and that will never be a line because i don’t need them

and that will never be a line because who would think to kid?

right now you are dreaming of me

or maybe someone else, somewhere else

and right now you’re laying on a pillow and right now

i wish i was next to you

it is four in the morning and i am entering these words

into save slots in my cell phone

places usually reserved for drafts and memories

and maybe you’ll hear them

but maybe only if you’re listening

and that will never be a line because i don’t need them

and that will never be a line because who would think to kid?

and sweet god i love you

and i think you might be telling truth when you say

it back

and you don’t read much, and we don’t like all of the same music

but that’s okay

because i don’t game much, and we can still dance the same steps

and that will never be a line because i don’t need them

and that will never be a line because who would think to kid?

you are skin stretched across bones

ivory gold

a few features away from perfect

and when i look at you, i can see too much

but god the moon is so beautiful

and it made me think of you

and that will never be a line because i don’t need them

and that will never be a line because who would think to kid?

Dec 29, 2009
#writing
eggshells

in the cold morning blue my mother makes pancakes and i pad-thump into the kitchen to pretend like i still have appetite.

all i can remember now is when we would stumble out laughing, ramen for breakfast at two in the afternoon.

i eat alone, now.

…

my parents never understood how i could make you leave like that. my brother smacked me across the face.

“she was the best thing that ever happened to you”

i know that, now.

i hope you are happy, somewhere.

…

everyone loves you. and you love everyone. but you loved me the most.

sometimes, when we were together, you would get distant until i pulled you closer and made you tell me what’s behind your eyes. and it was beautiful. but everything hurt.

i always wondered what the other ghosts were

i love you. and you love me too. even now, gone.

…

in that silence after confession, i expected a strike. a smack. a yell.

but all she did was look at me, betrayal in her face. but worst of all, “i knew i was a fool to trust you” set in the lines of her mouth. and she nodded. and she turned. and she walked away.

why does emptiness hurt so much?

…

i saw her again, for the first time in a year. she was on a bus.

she got off on 31st, so i followed her to a bakery shop were she purchased a kruller and kissed a boy on the cheek.

only i saw it, later, when she found a bench and cried

…

i watched her break eggshells for months before i worked up the nerve to ask her.

i was rejected, cold stone, cold hands.

“you’d break my heart like eggshells”

Dec 28, 2009
#writing
cold blue

and when she stopped coming around anymore they all just shook their heads and told me

“you are a fool”

there is an emptiness here, now.

i loved her. but my hands couldn’t listen. and knives can’t speak.

Dec 28, 20096 notes
#writing

I think I’m going to hell.

Dec 26, 20094 notes

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse;

A young girl on Tumblr, clicking, was there,

Reblogging and posting love quotes with care;

If you listened real close, you could hear all her likes,

Looking at pictures of hipsters on bikes

Dec 25, 2009
silence

he didn’t understand why she was leaving. packing her things, finding her CDs and belongings and maybe a toaster in this too-small apartment they shared.

as she was flinging books into boxes, he asked “why?”

she stayed silent

as she was soundlessly sobbing, folding her bedclothes, he asked “why?”

she spoke no words

“why?” “why?” “why?” cacaphonous in his misery and confusion.

“you’ve never understood silence” she replied in barely a whisper

it wasn’t until years later that he understood what she meant.

Dec 24, 20096 notes
#writing
give all take all

and he hates to let anyone have a piece of himself.

photographs. nicknames. ownership.

“stake your claim”

he hesitates to make you his, because that makes him yours.

and he can’t give himself away like that. not again.

because she took it all. who he was. who he is. his core.

she took it all…

Dec 23, 2009
#writing
joe, mary, and thomas

joe and mary, a small-town, catholic-school, gravel-road family, had a young son, thomas.

and on a cloudy-cold tuesday morning, they found him, tendons hanging, skull glistening with fresh blood, arms where legs should be, legs chewed off by dogs and birds. mutilated, his baby pacifier stuck in what was left of his bleeding gums and broken baby teeth.

joe sinks to the ground, face hitting dirt, coveralls dusty with time and grief, and cries “why? why? why?” and though it’s been cried so many times, what else could one ask?

and mary, dilligent housewife, clean-cook, retches but still tries to hold her son in her arms, his blood dripping down her dress, down her arms, his frayed nerves splayed against that blue checker pattern.

the sherriff, called the moment there was sign of that rotting flesh, that rotting future, tried to console. tried to say “god meant it to be. it’s all in his plan. you will grow”

but joe sits up, pebbles and dust marking his face, hands marked from sharp rocks digging into them as he pounded his fists to the ground, eyes crazy and too-white, smile small and shaking, and he laughs, just laughs. “there is no god”

Dec 19, 20094 notes
#writing
smoke and mirrors
  • Alex: Actually I am a jackass. At heart
  • Alix: Everyone is, really. Just depends how much you show it. No one really gives a fuck who you really are. They just care about how you act and what they see. And thank god for that.
Dec 16, 2009
jamais vu

let me break your heart

tear you in two

let me haunt your dreams

memories like claws, digging into you

never forget me

always regret me

i want to feel you sad

never forget me

and i’ll say that like a curse

i’m cruel in the ways you can’t see

hurt for everything you had

hurt for how good you thought it was

hurt

i want you to hurt

crush your dreams

crush your skull

find out what it means, to feel

to hurt

to suffer

stop complaining

let me in

let me hurt you more than she ever could

let me hurt you and make you think it’s all your fault

let me hurt you more than anyone i could pretend to be, ever would

Dec 16, 20096 notes
#writing

“no one WANTS this. no one even really wants love, not really, they want to be wanted and needed and kissed. but they don’t want vulnerability and hurt and that’s what love is. love doesn’t make sense. biologically, emotionally, not at all. it hinders our survival rate! but fuck that, we love anyway because it’s AMAZING while it lasts. until it ends and you’re broken and you’re bleeding and maybe you love someone else but oh my god it still hurts every time you see them with someone else or see them across a street or in a passing car. and you would do anything, ANYTHING to get that back. to feel safe and whole and okay again. but you cant get that back. you can move forward and create it anew. life isn’t lived, hearts aren’t mended, sitting around and waiting for your story to happen. you have to move your plot forward, or you’re stuck in wanting and needing and hurting.

love is emo. love is pathetic. in it’s very nature. that doesnt mean it’s not wonderful. but you can never get that time back. even if you could get him back, it wouldnt be the same, love.

you might not be over this for three years. you might be over him. but not that hurt, not what happened, no matter the bad things and you will be hurt and you will think things that aren’t true and you will choke up every time you try to talk to him until one day…you don’t. and that day, you will be so proud of yourself. but for now, there’s hurt. and there’s the friends that are here for you.”

“then don’t fucking give that up. chase after it. love like this, the kind of love that makes you willing to let her go if it’s what’s best for her, isn’t common it doesn’t happen all the time

fucking go after her and fucking try and fucking do your best to make this work because goddammit you are him and she is her and you are the couple that lasts and i don’t fucking care what happens or what anyone says because you love her and somewhere inside her she loves you too or this wouldn’t hurt”

Dec 16, 20098 notes
formspring.me

I think that you are a really amazing person and have some of the best writing I’ve seen in awhile. I feel like I can relate to a lot of it, and it’s so well written. You just seem like an all around good person, don’t lose that.

Making me blush!

Thank you, it really means a lot when people say things like this :]

Ask me anything

Dec 16, 2009
#formspring.me
formspring.me

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/hellodahly

Dec 15, 2009
#formspring.me
flinching fast

hot tears sliding against her cheek, she doesn’t know why she’s unhappy

pent-up fed-up

she’s next to him but she’s so far away and he doesn’t notice the salty sadness running down her face, pressing into his skin

and she is curled up, alone in bedsheets next to him and he doesn’t even realize that she’s growing cold from him and for a second he pulls her closer in that awkward way

but as happy as she usually is, close quiet, she can’t help that feeling in her throat and the tears pounding behind her eyes

hot neck hot face hot mouth cold hands

words threatening to spill out and thoughts sliding across the surface, the first phrase escapes…

“i am so deeply unhappy” flinching and heart beating fast, worried about being left, being lost, being grown tired of

as his arms stretch around her, how long will he think it’s worth it?

Dec 15, 2009
#writing
formspring.me

Whenever you like something of mine it makes me smile. Thanks for making me more confident in what I post. <3

You’re very welcome <3

Ask me anything

Dec 14, 20091 note
#formspring.me
Question

Would anyone here care if I just used this blog as my reblogging/personal one as well as my writing one? I am totally fine if people wouldn’t like that, I am just wondering.

So reblog, or answer?

Dec 14, 2009
okay so I doubt anyone will ask me or anything or whatnot, but...Formspring → formspring.me
Dec 14, 2009
wide eyed

and she is so afraid. because he gets so angry and ohgod what if he smacks her and why does he seem to want her more when she’s looking so wide-eyed afraid of him and why does he one moment spout cruel words “you’re worthless” and the next cry that he needs her?

and why does she have the feeling that she is getting in too deep and someday she won’t be able to get out or even tell anyone that she needs to because he bruises her and she sometimes bleeds and he knows but he keeps on going and somehow even though she doesn’t complain that seems fucked up and she is so afraid of making him mad that all she does is smile and comfort and listen and give him what he wants and oh my god she is so unhappy but she needs this because she needs to feel wanted with his shirt against her skin and oh my god please free her from this because she’ll never do shit to help herself

and all her friends hate him and don’t understand why she stays because he is sososo controlling and they don’t even know what he does and the only time she remembers why she stays is when he looks at her like that and tells her he loves her and holds her and…

oh my god, she is so alone

Dec 14, 20094 notes
#writing
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