So as one can tell I am not good at sticking to plans. I had planned to write about love and ending on writing about self-hatred and love for someone else. This was not my goal but it is were my mind is going. So for my week of poems I will be focused on writing my emotionally draining stuff but will try to pick back up with the original theme in the following weeks. Sorry that I suck so bad.
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
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.
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.
This is just secondary post to the previous one I did today.
I haven’t been feeling all that well these past few days but I am super stocked cause my best friend is coming to visit but I am also anxious as all get out. You know that feeling you get when you first meet someone? Well times that by 10 and that is my everyday when some is coming over or I have to go anywhere. Those terrible butterflies in your chest and sluggish blood. The overanalyzing all the ways in which it can go wrong with also anticipating what could go right.
I don’t mean to brag buuut
I am kind of a downer
An edgy downer at that.
See that glass half empty?
Watch me emo talk it into being broken into a million pieces surrounded by its glass family as they watch on in pity and blood lust in their eyes.
Safe to say I am freaking the freak out…
A/N it js not helping that I am outside in all black in damn near 70 degree weather with a winter coat on watching bees fight.
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.
Even when one of us is being an ass.
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 am struggling.
For reasons I can not control I find myself thinking of you.
And no matter how much I fight it I find that I do not have the ability to stop.
Who used to feed me tasteless lies upon a platter
Who used to bruise my body and scream “What’s the matter”???
As if my bleeding lips And busted up tongue
Could convey sweet words when I had none.
I should have seen it from the swastika on your chest.
Who hold yourself above the rest as if You
Are a God among men
But I am lacking in faith and reasons
Once I begin to feel again I begin
Who tore my dress because you said it was ugly
Who blamed me for every cigarette burn and broken knobs on doors
Who always swore it was my fault as you ripped my body apart.
You ripped my ravaged body apart…
And for reasons I can not control I find myself
Who on our wedding day who made my legs a pretty shade of purple and blue.
Who called my job and told them I lied about the money that went missing that one night
The fact that I was not even there
Do you care?
As I struggle to find air around listless tress
Doctors and officers telling me that all will be ok
But it isn’t
It never will
Because you broke me
And made me feel a love so twisted and vicious that I become so fucking addicted
God am I so addicted
But it doesn’t matter anymore
Because I am now crawling in the floor begging for someone
Knowing full well that it is you that I want
AND I FUCKING HATE IT!
I HATE me
But this lack of control gives me something to believe in
Because as I sit thinking of you
Who nearly succeded in making me your wonton whore
I scream a little
While wishing for more.
Soo this is a rough draft. I do not like it at all but I forgot today was C so yea. Will post it anyways.
As a child I read a lot of books that were probably really bad for me. Romance novels, mystery novels, novels where someone important died at end and I was to little to realize that crying over fictional characters would get me laughed at as I aged. I am totally over that though, no hard feelings towards people who made fun of my…well.. my feelings. I am going on a tangent here…
See, back in my day romance had a different flavor. I was to little to understand how authors battled each other for the spotlight. To me they wrote for the fun of it and weren’t oppressed by societies expectations. They did not feel the same pain us lowly untalented plebs went through. It was until I was older that I learned any differently but still I drowned myself in the worlds of others. Teaching myself to see through their eyes with a greater understanding then my peers. I wanted to witness love from places reality could not touch.
So is it any wonder that I feel in love with R.L Stine‘s Fear Street Series.
Yes, I know what you are thinking “R.L Stine isn’t a romance writer”. In this you would be correct but the thing is romance written for children and young adults do not look the same for romances for adults. We get things like Hunger Games, Twilight, Looking For Alaska, Remember me, and Green Angel. Books that may have some romantic elements but cover a wide range of other genres. These are our introductions into the world of romance. As adults we will get to read books that are actually centered about the idea of love but until then we are traumatized into thinking that the dude with the murder boner for innocent people is our fated mate.
So yea, I got my twisted ideas of romance on the lap of the dude who gave us Goosebumps.
Back in my day bad boys ruled the world. The badder the better. I feel in love with the maniac murderer because he was the only one to treat the protagonist with any sort of kindness. I mean sure, he shot some dude in the face but true love concurs all. OK yea, he was stalkish and creepy, but did you hear him describe the way she looked as he watched her while she was sleeping.
Stories of love are intimidating because they are a constant reminder of what I do not have, what I am afraid to strive for.
I absolutely do not want anything to do with love.
But what is love?
What drives some to want it and makes others despise it?
It is a weakness or a strength?
Honestly, there is no clear answer to these questions.
Love is subjective and prompted to change from one person to the next. There are times when it can give someone the power to overcome all adversary. Yet it also has the power to turns one insane.
Is it safe to assume that it is a neutral feeling considering all that it can do?
This I do not know.
But what I do know is that I do not want it. I do not want to risk my heart in the hands of someone else. I do not think I could handle if it went the way I always it to. While I know that love may surprise me I am just not sure. Maybe this makes me weak but at least I will be weak on my own terms.
I think about death a lot. I think about how beautiful it would be once it all ended. I am to weak to do what needs to be done though. So many conditions would need to met. I am so close though, so close to being free. I am already alone. I am a burden to everyone. My daughter needs a better mother. I am such a shitty friend.
I like hate. It aids in the process. One of these days I will be free.
I told my daughter I wanted to be a flower. They are fragile but powerful. I hope she will be ok when I am gone.
Just need that final push.
That one special thing to make it all ok.
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.
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.