Catch Up

My love for you will still remain,

Even though it causes so much pain.

It doesn’t die as easily,

Despite how badly we try to kill it.

Putting poison in my viens,

I want you out of my head.

The hardest thing is–

Blackouts were something we shared.

So falling into that despair

Is stained with you.

How do I get away?

Such a fucking shame…

You hurt when you see me?

I hurt. Always.

It’s not a new feeling for me.

This has been manifesting.

Since I first laid eyes on you–

Confusion and contemplation.

You can be mad. Be fucking mad.

I’ve been mad,

So it’s about fucking time you caught up.

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Change of heart

I can’t even write about you. That’s when you know it’s bad. When the story I’ve been working on for years, suddenly seems like trash because it’s written about you.

You and your inconsiderate heart, me and my vulnerable soul.

That’s what this story seems to be about.

But, I can’t keep playing the victim. I chose to be broken by you. I searched for someone like you, to release all of the demons I had hiding so deeply within me.

So, I feel like this story may have changed its purpose in my life. No longer am I romanticizing you and our crazy, reckless, inconsistent love. It is a story of a girl and boy who broke each other and could never be the same again.

Maybe I am the Season…

I think the problem with me is that I tend to get bored easily. Everything at the beginning is new and exciting, but then it becomes repetitive and tedious.

It’s like how at school, I couldn’t get through classes by the end. I just couldn’t even look at a textbook without feeling completely emptied of any passion I may have had when I first purchased it.

What’s wrong with me? Is this a normal, healthy state of being? Or is it something I must learn to rid of?

I like following my impulses, reaching for one bad habit after the next. I enjoy the thrill of substances and material purchases and a bout full of sugary foods. I like to hit cigarette after cigarette and type out story after story.

I live to avoid, to avoid being still or to avoid reality.

I guess that’s why when I’m with someone, I can’t stand it. They put me in this consistent, tedious reality that I’m unable to escape without hurting them. When I’m alone, I can make decision after decision without it affecting much other people. When I was with someone, my decisions had consequences for them.

I don’t know how to be still. I don’t know if I want to be.

My mind flows from one project to the next, one idea to the next, one love to the next. It’s what helps me experience life and everything to the fullest. Is that so wrong?

Please don’t be a season

Please don’t be a season.

Don’t be a fallen leaf in Autumn that slowly dies as it hits the pavement.

Don’t be the touch of snow on skin that quickly melts away in Winter.

Don’t be the rainbow after rain, hiding behind clouds of grey in Spring.

Don’t be warm beach days, fresh green grass and bright sunny rays that pass by as quickly as time does in the Summer.

You’re not allowed to come in and out of my life like the weather.

I want you for years to come.

I want you like the comfort of sitting down after every long day, knowing it’s a luxury whether on the floor or a coushioned chair.

I want you like the tattoo on the bottom of my neck, wearing out from too much sun exposure, but always holding meaning within my skin.

I want you like the memories written in books passed down for generations– causing stories to be diluted, but still partaking in history.

I want you like all of my body, maybe growing weaker as I get older, but always remaining, always trying, still working after so much vulnerability.

You are not just a season to me, you are a year. A year full of life, memories, sunshine, rainy days, snow fall and golden brown leaves on the ground.

Please don’t just be another season.

Freedom

I feel free. I saw you today and I almost smiled. I haven’t talked to you in a few days and I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d feel this way, but I do. I’m going to embrace it, because I deserve to be happy. Even if I did make you sad. I can only be in control of my own emotions, not yours. As much as I’d like to make you happy– that’s all I’ve been trying to do since we’ve been friends. I’ve put your emotions in front of mine for too long. It’s what I did for him too. The both of you were my number ones and I was always number two, just like I was for you.

I’ve cared so much and you’ve cared so little, wrapped up in your own life and drama of your love. You forgot I was there, in the sidelines cheering you on. Always there when you were down, when you didn’t want him, when you didn’t have him to hold. I was there. For the both of you. Open ears, open mind, open arms, but I left my heart closed. Because if it remained opened, I would’ve gotten burned, which is exactly what happened. I finally opened it. I finally opened my heart and my mouth to speak and you quickly shut it down. You can feel, but I can’t. You can love, but I can’t. You can fight, but I can’t. You can stir up drama and hate and confusion, but I can’t. I must remain silent around you and it hurts. It’s my own fault though. I shouldn’t fall into those bad habits. I shouldn’t let people walk all over me, talk to me without listening to me, judge me without hearing me out, fight with me without considering my side. When that’s all I do. All I do is wonder about you. How you’re doing. How he’s doing. How you’re both fucking doing and it hurts. Maybe I ended this the wrong way, but at least I ended it. I can say more than you can.

Better off on my own

People are beautiful. The way they laugh, express joy towards the smallest of things or offer a hand when you’re in need. Even the way people stress kind of excites me. When someone takes a long hit of their cigarette or sweats profusely.

I’ve always been a watcher, a listener, the girl who sits in the sidelines just observing the players. Maybe that’s why it’s easier for me to be on my own. I’ve seen how people are and what they can do. I know that we all hold a beauty of our own, but there’s only so much time I can spend admiring others before I start desiring their lives over my own.

I tend to drift from myself because I’ll see how happy someone else is, how successful, how loved they are and suddenly I want to do what it takes to achieve the same. I’ll copy their movements like a puppet on a string. It’s disturbing. I know deep down what I truly enjoy and who I’m really supposed to be, so when I spend all this time trying to be like someone else I start feeling so depressed.

I watch and watch and watch, like a binge night of Netflix. Then I alter myself to those personalities like an actor on set. It starts to get a little overwhelming and even tiring after a while. Coming home to an empty space, with complete silence besides the creaks made from my upstairs neighbors is literally perfection. I can start finding myself again.

I don’t know of any other way to be living, at least a way of living I’d truly enjoy. It makes me wonder if I’d ever really be happy in a relationship or with a family, with children of my own. I just can’t imagine having to sacrifice so much of myself for others.

I’m not here for you

I’m tired. I’m tired of being the mediator. I’m tired of being the only person giving a shit at work. I’m tired of being there for everyone, but having no one there for me. I’m tired of living in everyone’s life and not my own. I do not live for others. I do not live to sit there and listen to you talk about your boyfriend. I do not live to watch and cheer you on as you achieve your dreams. I do not live to pleasure you. I do not live to make all of the arrangements and plans for the sake of your happiness. I do not live for you.

I’m not going to do it anymore. When it gets to the point where I can’t even sit on my own and decide what to do with myself, I know I’ve been focused on others for too long. It’s happened before and I’m not going to keep letting it happen. I want to achieve my own dreams, to search for my own happiness. I want to be able to sit alone and figure out what the fuck to do with myself because I’ll know what I want to do with my life. I don’t want to have to feel like I need others in order to feel a sense of drive.

We’re not to be driven and motivated by the desire to make other people happy, because once they are gone they take that happiness with them. What are you left with then? You feel a loss of energy for the work you put into them and you gain nothing from it. Fuck that. I’m tired of putting my energy into others. It’s time to focus on me.