Best Nikitagill Quotes This Year

seafoam*
posted a quote
December 8, 2016 3:08pm UTC

Not all girls are made of
Sugar and spice and all things nice.
Some are made of witchcraft and wolf
And a little bit of vice.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
June 22, 2015 8:33pm UTC

if it makes
YOU FEEL BROKEN IN ANY WAY,
you need to end it BEFORE IT ENDS YOU.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
September 12, 2018 7:28pm UTC

You were always the darkest tale of my life. And somehow I still manage to find something inside you that was cradled in light.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
June 4, 2016 5:04pm UTC

I have gunpowder in my chest
instead of a heart now,
and it escapes my lips
shaped like a bullet
with your name on it.
Soft people become dangerous
when you destroy the things
they hold dearest.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
May 29, 2016 6:35pm UTC

“
Your heart will fix itself. It’s your mind you need to worry about. Your mind where you locked the memories, your mind where you have kept pieces of the ones that hurt you, that still cut through you like shards of glass. Your mind will keep you up at night, make you cry, destroy you over and over again. You need to convince your mind that it has to let go…because your heart already knows how to heal.
—Nikita Gill
”

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seafoam*
posted a quote
April 2, 2016 7:49pm UTC

How to Cope Right
After He Leaves You
Two minutes after he has walked out that door, everything inside you threatens to shatter. Not just your heart, that has been broken for some time now, forgotten and covered in dust inside your chest, everything else. Your soul feels like it is ten thousand miles away, your lungs are heaving as though all the oxygen in this room has left with him, you don’t know how your body is holding you up because everything hurts, everything aches like his goodbye has chewed through your organs, and although scientifically speaking you are fine…you feel like you are dying.
Because that is what breaking up is. The death of a life that you once imagined with him, a grave appearing inside your head in which you bury your memories so they don’t hurt you. Your brain, whatever is left of it, is trying to focus of helping you live through this terrible event. This awful sadness that threatens to swallow you whole and spit out your bones. This is the hardest part, two minutes after the door has closed behind him for good. After this, every other time you miss him terribly will be nothing but a ghost of this completely consuming pain.
And this, this is how you are going to cope. You are going to cry. You are going to weep in a way that you will never allow anyone to see, not even him. And it will continue for what seems like an age. You will feel like you have aged ten years. But then, you cannot weep anymore and you will stop, unsure of what to do with yourself – you are so raw and hurt and still bleeding. But you cannot cry anymore because you see, your sub conscious mind has been scrambling this whole time, looking for a reason to stop you from falling apart; this is survival. And to help you, your mind will come up with this: drink water. You’re dehydrated from letting it all out, and you need to drink water.
So shakily, you will get to your feet, and you will go to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of water, and make your way to bed. The tears will probably come again when you walk into a room that you named ‘ours’ has now become just a room you lose sleep in. You will remember how he felt sleep warm against your skin, his arms around you and suddenly the universe is broken.
Breathe deeply. Eventually you will recognise that this is your new normal, but until then, you need to understand that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. And here is how you will learn.
From a glass of water.
Before you drink it, look at the water, look at it carefully. And although you want to see yourself yourself as broken, try to look past that at this. You are still here. You are still breathing despite this constricting pain in your chest that threatens to destroy you. Instead of seeing yourself as broken, see yourself as the water you have poured into that glass. An ocean, a river, a sea, even a pond, they all have this one thing in common. No one can break them. Because it is physically impossible to break water. Because water adapts, it takes the shape of the vessel it has been forced into and it does so easily – that’s where we get the adjective ‘fluidly’ from.
You are seventy percent made of this stuff. And although you don’t feel invincible right now, keep this inside your mind. You will heal from this, you will recover because you are made out of oceans and they have survived volcanos erupting under their surface and hurricanes stealing from them and becoming terrible storms. They have survived human beings destroying and polluting their purest depths and they are still here. They still move entire continents apart with their sheer force and pressure.
Think of him as a hurricane, and your pain as a volcano. He has taken from you and gone. And your pain is erupting inside you. But even hurricanes and volcanoes have a point where they end, and so will the memories of him that haunt you and your pain.
But you my dear, you are an ocean. And oceans are ancient and can survive everything, even the wrath of weather and planet. Just like you will survive losing what you thought would be forever love.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
June 24, 2017 7:14pm UTC

Here’s a question for your soul;
How many times can
a broken thing break?
And the gods whispered:
Let’s see, shall we?
— Nikita Gill

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seafoam*
posted a quote
October 30, 2016 2:17pm UTC

They won't tell you fairytales
of how girls can be dangerous and still win.
They will only tell you stories
where girls are sweet and kind
and reject all sin.
I guess to them
it's a terrifying thought,
a red riding hood
who knew exactly
what she was doing
when she invited the wild in.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
November 26, 2016 12:39pm UTC

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If he sets you on fire, master the flames. If he tries to drown you, channel the ocean inside you. And if he ever dares to storm through your self respect, you show him exactly what kind of damage a hurricane made of flames and oceans and you can do.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
October 4, 2017 5:30pm UTC

Once
you were made of the sky
do you remember that?
Before they told you
what you were supposed to be
Before they destroyed
your elegant wings.
Before they tricked you
and chained you to an idea
to a prison they made for you
branded you with a label, with pain
Tried to remold you
into something
easier for them
to understand.
But your blood
didn’t let you
forget, did it?
The taste of the sky,
The memories of flying
to the horizon just to kiss
the sun before he fell asleep.
Once Apollo himself loved you
so much, that he softened
the sun’s heat so it could
not melt your wings.
He is still waiting for you
to remember who you were
before they turned you
into something they understood.
Come, you have always known
what it would take
to eat those chains,
to fly free again.
Nothing about this
was ever going to be easy
Freedom was built
on backs and bones and blood.
Take the thing
that is owed to you.
Forge new wings
in the belly of betrayal.
Watch them quiver
as you rise again,
this time breathing fire
your spine made of fury.
Show them what happens
when they try to take the voice
from those born of the sky
Become your own battlecry.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
October 23, 2017 8:58pm UTC

'
I will not give up the flowers in my heart for stones just because the world is a hard place. The world is only hard because it needs more flower hearted people.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
May 11, 2016 7:43pm UTC

Stop telling little boys they are invalid
because they display ‘feminine’ qualities. Like softness is not a quality shown by men at all. Like sensitivity is a thing to be regarded with disgust and unkindness.
Stop telling them that they become less when they express emotion. Do not them that it doesn’t matter when boys show emotion, that they deserve to be ignored when they do. Do not dismiss their tears to toughen them up and turn their feelings into a joke because that is how you create sociopaths.
Stop saying, ‘You punch like a girl’ or ‘Yeah, that was all right…for a girl’. And stop telling your sons their tears make them girls – as though being a girl is the worst thing in the world. When the truth is being a girl is no different from being a boy when they are both just human beings.
Stop demeaning them by making the word ‘woman’ or ‘girl’ a method to control their behavior, a reason to bottle their emotions and instead be volatile and display violent behavior. Stop teaching them to bully each other until they are macho and man up. And the ones of them who do not fit into this ideal are effeminate as if that is a curse.
I wish society would stop telling little boys that showing emotion is the same thing as being a girl. And being a girl is the same thing as being weak.
Instead, never let your sons forget where their essence was just formed, when their bodies were most vulnerable, they were protected by the womb of a woman. If they ever call all women weak, remind them of the strength of their mother who pulled her whole body apart to give theirs a home.
Instead, teach them how to be kind regardless of their gender. Teach them how women and men are strong in their own ways. Teach them to respect the attributes they admire as one human to another.
Instead, raise boys who accept people as they are and are strong because of their belief in themselves. Raise boys who are strong enough to display emotion and softness, and not hide their feelings when they display their hopes and dreams. Raise boys who can appreciate the softness of a moonlit night as much as they appreciate the stormy anger of the sea.
After all, how are they supposed know how to respect women as much as men, if they are taught from a young age that women are lesser human beings.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
May 28, 2016 5:36pm UTC

I hope you find someone who knows how to love you when you
aRe saD.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
July 15, 2017 7:58pm UTC

I lose people, and amid the tsunamis
of grief and sadness that follow,
I remind myself, when finally chaos tears dissolve
and the aftermath of thoughts is allowed:
“Silly child, you should know better than
to love anyone this much by now,
every time you have loved this hard and this much,
you know it will be wrenched away from you somehow.”
@ enrikute

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seafoam*
posted a quote
January 16, 2017 8:31pm UTC

When someone plants flowers
in parts of your spirit
that were dark
closed,
broken
before they arrived,
do not let them wither
when they leave.
Instead,
love them for growing
love them for living
love them for letting the light
back into your soul.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
June 1, 2017 9:30pm UTC

“Some [people] are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of [people] who try to save wolves instead of running away from them.”

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seafoam*
posted a quote
August 20, 2016 8:31pm UTC

i. You were so torrentially toxic to me I had to slice my own veins to get you out.
ii. There was more chaos in the way you loved me than there was in the winding weather storm that broke every window in the house we called home, you turned that home into a house.
iii. You claimed momentary insanity, like your hero Hercules, the day you used your fists for the first time, the same insanity that plagued Hercules when he slew everyone he loved. I wonder if there was a storm where he lived that day too.
iv. Harbinger made of hemlock and heartache, hurricane made of hurt and heartbreak, you were Hera’s lesson of harm and habit, you were impossible to break, but I too, like you, have hidden the strength of Hercules somewhere inside this harbour body that used to welcome hurricanes. I too have always known siren songs that have bewitched men with more ancient madness than you could ever imagine. I too have spoken words that dripped with cruelty like a soldiers sword in a battlefield, I do not use these abilities against you because I have learned, I have learned that when you destroy someone you love…there is no coming back from that.
v. I was tied to my heartache the way Prometheus was tied to his mountain the day I met you. In my eyes, you were Hercules then. Freeing me from my destructive punishment, allowing me to finally breathe free. And like Prometheus, I too forgot that Hercules was the son of the same God who punished him so cruelly. Our love became the new mountain I was tied to, the eagle forever circling to, waiting for it’s moment to draw chunks from us again.
vi. There is no building from the wreckage of two broken hearts lying in the battle fields of an Olympus that will never be great or beautiful again. I wish you had seen that before I had to force you out of my blood by draining the poison you pumped into me during a war, poison I drank like it was the antidote to my war wounds.
vii. Do you think in the moment Hercules realized that he had killed everyone he loved, he chose to do those twelve tasks not as an apology but as a suicide mission?
viii. I’m drunk out of my mind, and I just wanted to say that you are no Hercules, there is no honor in the way your fingers threw me across the room, with intent to harm. There was no madness in your eyes. Just hate.
ix. I’m sober as I can be and I just wanted to say you are no Hercules, because at least he grieved killing those he loved, whereas you didn’t even feel sorry for shattering every part of me that you claimed to love.
x. I love you and I hate myself for loving you.
xi. I hate you and I hate myself for hating you.
xii. On the day Hercules completed his twelfth task, he travelled to the sea. Sitting there on the cliffs, he saw the oncoming hurricane, as it drank from the sea. He dove into the water, hoping…praying it would take his life with it. Instead, it delivered him back to the harbour where a man called Jason was just about to set sail for the golden fleece. And I learned that the Gods did not want Hercules to die. Just like the Gods did not want our love to live.
—Nikita Gill, The Twelve Texts in which I Realize You Aren't Hercules

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seafoam*
posted a quote
April 15, 2016 2:41pm UTC

To the Person Who Destroyed
Me by Trying to Fix Me
Before I Was Ready
The way you broke me all over again by trying to ‘fix’ me is beautifully ironic, I’ll give you that. There is something almost poetic about the way you turned my damaged heart into a home for yourself. You see, to you I was a terribly broken thing. You see, to you I was something that needed fixing. Where I saw my most precious possession, my heart, perhaps a little worn for wear but still beautiful to me, you saw a house with broken shutters made of betrayal and creaking floors made of mistrust.
I let you convince me that it wasn’t worth your love as it was, no matter how much love I gave you, it could still be better because it came from a broken thing like that. I let you regard my most treasured possession like a thing of disgust because it had been loved and damaged by someone else before. And what is worse, I looked at it with disgust too. Like I wasn’t good enough for you. I handed you the hammer to start smashing.
So you got to work, fixing creaking doors that would never quite close properly behind people and sweeping away cobwebs from places I had deliberately buried deep within the chambers. You roamed through the rooms of my heart and settled down in what you called a home. A home that was now, you said, worthy of your love. You stood back and admired the handiwork – my heart was no longer my own but now, your home.
And for a while, I believed you. And you and I we were happy. Happy as long as I was doing everything you wanted the way you wanted it. Happy as long as the quick fixes you had made were worth your love. Happy as long as I kept a big smile plastered to my face as you boasted to everyone how much effort it took to fix me up again, so I was worthy of love again, so I was able to love again.
As if I was an unlovable thing before you fixed me. As if you had fallen in love with the idea of me, not the person I am.
The way you fixed me was insidious at best. Ridiculing me into being comfortable with things before I was ready. Constantly telling me what ‘normal people’ are like and how I need to try harder to be like them. Saying you would leave if I didn’t try harder and harder and harder to be what you wanted me to be, rather than what I needed to be for myself. I learned that if I did not put you first, if I spoke of my past, if I even mentioned pain in any way, shape or form, it would result in you threatening to leave. The way you would refuse to love me when I was anxious, when I was in pain, when I needed love the most because in your mind, it was either perfect, or nothing at all.
It took me a long time to understand that I was a thing worth loving, just as I was. It took me a long time to know that my heart has always been a home, but for no one else, just for me. It took me even longer to understand that fixing people is not how you love them. Healing is not made of quick splashes of paint to cover the sadness, some words to stop the pain from being quite so painful, and words like ‘I love you’ placed like a new sofa in an old room hoping to cover up the bloodstains and heartache on the floor.
Healing is a journey in which one fixes oneself. Slowly. Carefully. Sometimes with one step forward and two steps back. Healing is not a horizontal path. It contains cliffs and seas and mountains and all kinds of things that make it hard to travel. If it was easy, it would not take time, nor patience to complete. And to love a broken thing best is to have patience with it’s journey. It is to hold that person close on the nights when they wake up screaming. It is to understand that though the tears are here, they will one day be a distant memory.
Broken people are not houses. You cannot put your feelings inside them and expect them to be as good as new. Broken people are not projects for you to fix; instead, allow them fix themselves whilst you both grow.
The sad thing is, I loved you enough to want to hurry my own journey, to pretend that you had fixed me, to allow you to let me think that the damage was gone when really, lurking under the surface of my newly wallpapered heart, the damage was resentfully, claustrophobically festering. So one day, I walked in there and ripped apart all that hard work you did just to let it breathe.
You see, this is the trouble with broken things like me. You either love us broken. Or you do not love us at all. I am grateful that you chose the latter. Because in the absence of your need to make me perfect, I have learned to love myself just as I am so much more.
I have learned that my alone is a beautiful, forgiving thing. It is slowly filling these cracks and wounds inside me with love and healing. My alone is softer with my heart than your love had ever left it feeling.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
August 30, 2017 7:56pm UTC

I would rather be alone than live my life trying to fit inside a love that is too small for me. The kind of love that just wants drops of my soul instead of the rivers that make me who I am meant to be.

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seafoam*
posted a quote
October 31, 2016 2:54pm UTC

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The day you left I cried so much that the sky opened and swallowed me whole and now I am just the rain that falls on your window.

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Best Nikitagill Quotes This Year