Smeared Words

Ripped pages from a diary

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"Grade doesn’t matter. It’s the learning that counts"

But you and I both know that’s nothing but a lie

Because if grades don’t matter

And it is learning that counts

why do we put numbers of value

to the knowledge we have?

In the end we don’t really want to learn

we just want to “pass”

Filed under spilled ink grades education hypocrite A+

4 notes &


I came to hate writing 

Because all it contain is you

I came to hate writing

Because it means I’m sad and lonely

And this is my only way to feel

and let out my anxieties

I came to hate writing

Because when I write I remember you

And every little thing that made me

want to hate this life 

But still I write

Because I can never forget

the things we did and the feelings 

I once felt.

Still I write

For the hope that someday

it’ll contain more than you

and this pathetic little sad life

I write

Because I hope

that it’ll get better every time. 

Filed under spilled ink poetry write depression broken hope

4 notes &


Tonight I won’t write about your beautiful eyes

Nor the fact that I want you lying by my side

I won’t write about our love, nor our future lives

Tonight  I’ll write about our memories waiting to die

The ink will stay on the paper I’m writing on

As it rewrite every fragments of moments we own

And once you hear the melody, you’ll remember our song

But you and I both know, we can’t go back to it anymore

Maybe you could take my hands again, but it’ll end up just the same

You’re choking, I’m suffocating, all we feel is pain

And you know this is the last chance of mending our broken hearts

If not just tell me how to unlove every bit of your part

-Yume H.

Filed under spilled ink poem poetry love unlove broken

7,824 notes &

The first time she said it, he was on the floor, looking for something.

"I love you."

It was quiet, as if a passing thought. But he froze, like it was the most important thing in the world.

"Say it again," he said, turning to look at her.

"I love you." She whispered.

And there was something about the way she sat there, quivering like a leaf, that made him want to sit down and hold her forever.

"I love you I love you I love you."

She was getting much too brave, and the words rolled off her tongue like they’d been waiting for a long time to be heard.

"Screw everything." She said. "Screw building walls and hiding emotions.

"I am fucking terrified, and perhaps I don’t know much. But I love you," she laughed. "I know that I love you."

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #55  (via blossomfully)

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I wonder when it all started. This feeling of regret and sadness and other thoughts that consume me at night, I can’t trace them back anymore. I don’t know where it all began. And the worst thing is, I don’t know where and when it will all end. 

Will it stop all at once? Or will it fade bit by bit, until I realized that it’s all over. I got over it and it’s okay to move on now because it’s done. I’m free to let go. Will it stop like that? Or will I be forever trap and scarred for the rest of my life. Will I continue living inside my lies just so I could breath even for a minute and escape this reality I was forced to enter?

I want to be positive, to fill my thoughts with good things. But it feels like I’m lying to myself, that I’m just running away. I feel suffocated. I just want this to end.

Filed under random thought night depression