"When I give, it does not come with strings. I’m not keeping track of what you owe me. When I give, I choose to do so without ulterior motives. I give because I know what it’s like to be without. To long for and be ignored; to speak and not be heard; to care for and have nothing returned. When I give it’s because I know the value in what I have in my heart. And I refuse to let the world stop me from sharing that, But when things start being taken for granted, When you no longer appreciate my sincerity, I won’t switch, I won’t get angry, and I won’t be spiteful. I’ll just get smart, and change your role in my life. Because when I give, I’m all in. But when I’m done, there’s no turning back."
- Rob Hill (via have-perspective)
"I know you’re not here, I can see it in your eyes when we talk. Where ever you are, come back soon."
- Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via splitterherzen)


The essence of time has become non - existent
The grains of minutes drip into a continuos running river
Days erode and run into the current, carried away into an ocean of uncertain abyss, pulled into the pitch black depths

The walls between night and day give way and crack to blend and blur

Eventually all turns gray

I stand, stoic, and observe as the rain drips down on the other side of the glass

I’m not sad, I’m not angry, content, hungry or craving

I stand attempting to make sense of what this has become

I stand attempting to dysect the numb

spilled ink lz poem time river ocean night day numb attempting to make sense dysect black white gray

When you get what you want but slowly realize it doesn’t formulate into who you are anymore.
Instead of comforting accomplishment, confusion floods the room.
How do I tell you I’m not the light you saw at the end of the dark tunnel?
How do I let go without letting you fall?