K – Kindess

I guess I have overcome a lot in my life. At times this is not really easy to see. I surrounded myself with self defeating imagery in the hopes that it will help me see reason. But it never works.

I know that others have it worse.

I know that I am in a better place.

I know it.

I see it

But that doesn’t always help.

I am so used to it and do not know how to change it. If I am being honest here, I think I need it. I have spent so many years of my life hating myself and others around me that it is pretty much the only way I can tell that I alive.

I think I made a comment about how I am not good with “positive” stories. I do not do love. Or happiness. Or joy. Not unless someone is suffering in someway. I fully admit that this makes me an edge queen and quiet possibly makes me seem a bit immature.

But…this is my therapy. This is how I heal.

I may surround myself with negativity but it is the only way I can used to things.

Send it below or Fucking use it

I remember the day I told my friend that I would use this very qoute from her book. I was maybe 16 and have since lived by it.

My past defines me because it gives me the ability to create this things. I use it. So with my pain, and lonliness, and heartache, and stress, what am I?

So yea…I do not think I would have a purpose without it. I may never ever really get better and I am ok with that.

It is a kindess to believe otherwise and I just do not have the space for that.

Still I respect it all the same.

H _ Holdings

I told you that I was a curse

At worst a mistake

Upon a broken page

Pierced heavily with a holy blade

I am a demon made of sin

Because only the devoted would let me in

I am something to be forgotten

But those words spoken so prettily

Could never be the real me

I wish I was a demon

I wish I was cursed

I wish there was a reason

To leave this earth

Because I need purpose

I don’t want to feel worthless

Because I am not her

I will never be

I am not the key to your heart

You see

But there is nothing else for me

I am not a demon

I am not cursed

And no matter how much it hurts

I am worthless

A purposeless fraud

Just a sad little girl who is lost.

A/N I have not been doing well lately. Kind of depressed…ok fine, loads of depressed. All of the depressed please and thank you. I can tell you how it started buut I rather not. Since I still want to keep doing the challenges I will devote this week to the emotional drama that is my mind. Chemical imbalances for the win.

For those who do not like this kind of stuff all is well. I am only allowing myself a week to do these types of poems. After that I will save my innermost emo ness for outside of the challenge post. Because truly would I really be me if I didn’t debby downer the world.

F – Forgive Me

It surprised me that I liked it

The way you laid before me

Arms reaching out for some reprieve

I could see it in your eyes

Tears of glory full of grace

But I hold the rod you see

I am the one who makes you bleed

It surprised me that I liked it

So far from my conformt zone

Maybe it’s the look on your face

A sort of pain that can’t be faked

I can see you reach for a reprieve

As though that will save your life

You forget me dear for I hold the rod

I will be the one who fixes these wrongs

A/N I am not doing well… Hmmm mistakes were made. I will go over this another day.

Also pretty sure I misused the word Reprieve

I – Insecure

When you hold me, I am not fully there

I am not…I am not aware of all that is between us

Stuck in my own head I grin and bear it

Suck it up and pretend to love it

Your soft whispers and Your wondering eyes

Your hands that hold, gently touching mine

To insecure to let you know

I stopped loving you a long time ago

I used to crave your every word

Lusted for you when the nights were cold

But something changed inside of me

Slowly, slowly I started to grieve

I am not beautiful as you say

Nor am I smart

Wise

Kind

Or brave

I am not a women worthy of your lies

But I guess this shouldn’t come as a suprise

I was never happy with myself

So I pinned it on everyone else

Found my heart in broken things

As if fixing them would fix me

You were just as lost as me

Yet here you stand as proud as can be

I resent this love you feel so deep

Because it can no longer placate me

As you whisper

As you hold

I can feel my heart growing cold

I do not love you anymore

Of this I am aware

Yet I will go on pretending

Praying with all my heart that you can fix me

A/N this took awhile. Sorry about that.

G – Gripping

I am not a fan of writing cliches, acually, I am a huge fan but I am not always tolerant of them.

The basic bad boy who turns his life around thanks to naive little pretty girl who think she is ugly.

Of course they have the techy (or sassy) best friend who is constantly by their side.

They are cliches because they work. We see the princess ready to leave her dull and unappreciative world behind and we wiggle in our seats. We see the handsome warrior who could kill with a single touch bow down to a common women.

“Love is a fickle thing” , we sigh into our drink cups. Clutching our books closer to our face.

But

There is still a problem with them.

Cliches allow readers to a greater understanding of where the story might be going. Rarely do we get stories that pan out a different way. YAs usually end with the girl getting with the outcast. The only times she ends up with the guy who “socially acceptable” is when the other ends up being a villian or is a tool.

The young boy who is trying to avenge his family will manage to do so but it will always come at a cost. His mentor or a family member will die within the first few books, maybe even the first few chapters. He may end up with a love interest but rarely will they stay together.

So I always know what story I am getting when I start to read. I know how it will end even if I do not know all the details that will lead to that point.

As I said before, cliche are considered such because they are overused but because they also work. There are only so many ways a story can go and patterns are really hard to deviate from. Yet, many readers and publishing companies expect writers to always be original no matter what. If they are not then there is a good chance their book will not be accepted.

Should we celebrate that fact?

I do not think so.

I despise cliches but I also love them. I am comforted by the fact that I can see the ending a mile away. Because I live for the journey. I live for those moments where the author gives me something I was not expecting. Like a book in which the sick person truly does die at the end.

Or a story where the boy was not able to avenge his family.

A story where the couple breaks up at the end

Or maybe one where, dispite the odds stacked against them, the villian is the one who wins.

I love those moments of uncertainty and I love those moments of clarity.

I guess it is the weirdo in me.

E – Emotions

I do not need you to save me

To help me understand

I am not wise

Am far from kind

But you can not save me

I am a monster

With my emotions

My actions cause you pain

You with blood on your hands

You with hatred in your eyes

Try to disguise

To save my soul

But I am to far gone for hope

A/N I have some catching up to do. Was not feeling well.

D – Destroying a Friendship with Love

Today I told my therapist that I did not know what real friends looked like. All I learned about relationships was through a book or TV screen. Real life friends are vastly different from the reality I would sneak away to as a child. The one filled with dragons, and princesses, and ghost, and those with way more freedom then I.

Normal people scare me, though I guess this is not all that hard to see. I tend to struggle to be myself often letting my written word take precedence over my spoken one. See, I am believe in always telling the truth if I can help it. Written words can tell no lies. So the real me can be found in the things I do not say but in the things I write.

But I guess this is not the most ideal way to communicate with others. Maybe that is why I do not really know what it means to have “adult” friends. I have never had it modeled to me. Still, I can not say that I do not have friends.

I have one very precious to me and, though she may drive me crazy sometimes, I hold her very near and dear to my heart. I can remember what she told me when I explained to her what made her different from the rest. See, her and I share things that I do not share with others. I do not tell my others friends how I feel through everything that I go to. I do not go into details if asked how I am doing. I honestly, do not think many of them would care. Still, I call them friend because they are kind to me. I value their time even if they do not understand the true me, the real unfiltered me. Not like this friend does anyways. With her I do not always feel shame. Maybe this is because we were both stuck in our fictional worlds for such a long time. She knows what I mean when I say that I feel nothing while smiling. She knows what I mean when I say that when everything as I am trying to force myself to sleep. She just gets it.

And yet, I question this friendship because it reminds me of the reality I had as a child. There are times when I think she is a figment of my imagination. I will just wake up to discover that her, her little girl, and my own are not real. I feel it coming and I am afraid. And she understands that even if she does not share the same pain.

I think this is love of which friendships are suppose to be based on. I say this because there are times when I do not understand it and she is often made to explain this emotions. Love is silent. It creeps up on people when they least expected and is not always that easy to see. There are times when we do not know that it is there. Anger, sadness, rage, depression can disguise it in ways you don’t even know. But that does not mean it has gone away.

With this friend, I am not always happy with her. There are times when she makes me feel so terrible. There have been times when I wanted to never speak to her again. But love is a fickle thing and also catches me off guard. Like those times when I am angry with her but she comes up and tells me that she appreciates me. There was a day when I decided I would tell her that I never wanted to speak to her again but she messaged me asking me if I was OK. She told me that I was an amazing person and that she was so happy to have me as her friend. At that moment I realized that my anger was unnecessary and we talked through things.

We talk.

Even when one of us is being an ass.

We talk.

I do not think this is something that a lot of people would comprehend as good thing.

See, I created a reality to escape the pain. It taught me to see monsters in everyone. I do not trust easily and can speak a lie like the best of them leaving only my written word to be truth. I did this because I was afraid to be alone but to afraid to reach out and make connections. While in her own reality my friend flourished under the same turmoil. So is it any surprise that we get along so well?

I was not lying when I told my therapist I knew nothing of friendship. I am too flawed, to jaded by life, to be able to really be a decent one to anybody. But with her by my side I am OK with this. Neither of us wanted to be perfect anyways.

~

This blog idea came to me thank to The Dream Girl Writes from her A to Z challenge post titled Annoying Friends. I wanted to show my friend how much she meant to me in the best way possible and seeing The Dream Girl Writes post made me think that creating this post would be a good way to show it.

To my best friend Jen, You are absolutely one of the most amazing person to ever play a part in my life. We may not always make the right choices in our friendship but it is one of the purest there is. You mean so much to me and I am so happy to know that our children share the same bond. May we break the cycle of those who came before and raise them to be amazing little humans as well. My bestie westie for all ways Jen.

And thank you Dream Girl for that wonderful first start to the A to Z challenge! I wish you all the luck.

~ I am proud to say that my best friend also has a blog (peer pressure at its finest lol) you can read some of her work here. I may be a bit biased but she is a really talented writer.

Edit: I just found out last night that my friend and I had the same idea for a post. So make sure to read her post for C – Catharsis

I is for In the blood

Via Pinterest. Artist unknown.

In the Blood

By Zoha

There is something about the blood.

I don’t know what it is but I am drawn to it

The sight makes me happy

My heart beats faster in my chest

There is something about it

That makes it so I can’t rest

I love the smell

The feel

The taste

I love how it looks sliding down your shocked face

Nothing brings me more pleasure

Nothing can compare

Maybe that is the reason why

I ended up burning in hell

A/N In the Blood is my favorite phrase. So sorry if I use it a lot in my writing. You will survive.

E is for Enough. Part 2 of Grief ~Anger

Pretty angel

Make me bleed

Do you hate the world

As much as you hate me?

Is that what made you leave

Why you didn’t say goodbye

Is that the reason

You took your own life

Did I make you suffer?

Cause you to much pain?

Is that the reason decided to leave that day

Did it hurt?

Did you cry?

How did it feel when you decided to die?

I bet you wanted me to feel so sad?

Was it all apart of you plan

I bet you wanted me to feel so alone?

Did you mean to be gone so long?

What made you decide that it was ok

To bloody yourself beyond repair?

Did you assume that I would care?

What was flowing through your mind?

Did you want the world to leave me behind?

What made you do it?

Was it truly me?

You are dead now

But are you really free?

A/N

As I have stated before, I am actually pretty suicidal. To help combat that I write poems written as though I have died. It helps me see reality so to speak.

I feel the need to explain this one a bit just because of how uncomfortable it can make people. This is part of my stages of grief stories but in this one the person who is dead is trying to figure out why they did it. When they ask themselves if they hate the world then they do themselves they are basically saying that instead of living and punishing the world they jusf decided to end themselves.

There are so many routes this person could have taken and they settled on the final one. I may habe to rewrite this cause I just yawned and confused myself.

E is for Enough

I give up!

I fucking give up on everything.

Of course I am not enough. I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t even give me a chance. You refuse to let me see you as you lay dying in your hospital bed.

You said I was like a granddaughter to you yet you wouldn’t see me at the end. Told the world that you cared. I am sure that is not what you meant. You were ashamed of me weren’t you?

You truly hated me! How could I have believed… You LIED to me. To my little girl. To her you were her world. She looked up to you.

I did too.

Now you are gone

What the fuck am I suppose to do??

Who will be proud of me now?

Who will tell me it is ok?

Who will sit there and just let me vent, every freaking day. Why did you leave?

You were suppose ro be around forever. You promise to see me do better…

But you left me…

You left me alone

And not even a week later he followed you too.

You were family.

I was suppose to make you both proud.

Just

I promise to better

Please come back home.

I will go to church every Sunday. I won’t question a thing. I will be a better mother. I will smile on command. I will get a job and go to school. I will do it all and more.

Just please please call me so I can walk out that door and see you.

Please let me make you proud.

I know you are gone now

I just handle it right now.