Bitter

It must suck to have all of your progress erased, I wouldn't know a thing about that

it must suck to think so very highly of someone only to watch them change into something so very bad

I wouldn't know a thing about that

So That I Remember

the last thing 
that I need
is another person 
observing me 
from afar

Self Sabotage

  As if I could be subconsciously looking out for myself.

Insanity

he asked me what was wrong, i replied nothing was wrong, i was just worried that i would never enjoy myself again.


i am so sad for you, i am so sad for me, and for everyone, and i am so incredibly disappointed, in everyone and all of this. 

"she always weighed me down
but afraid I might need her, I dragged her around"

you patiently and carefully
gracefully and graciously
tipped toed and slowed us back into
something normal and something good
i bulldozed through all of that
mediocre nonsense
just trying to kill us off again
when all that i want is to want to live

i am so dramatic
"oh my god, I could kill myself just thinking about it"

Goes Down The Same

"An empty or a half full glass, 
it all goes down the same



And I will beg and steal and borrow to keep you safe your whole life"

Vacant

"Call me outside I'll come running down.
When I satisfied each need invented by my eye
I was a nest by a fox hole or dirt underneath your boot soles.
When I satisfied each need invented by my eye
It was nothing like I'd imagined.

Like cocaine, their green eyes fixed on the television to pass the time until their two miles of elegant blinds halfway raised for the watching as you walked by.
"Look, come down to the window - she carries a candle at mid-day while the sun's still so high!"
But you knew better than to pay mind to what people and the devil say.
Call me outside, I'll come running down into your vacant, intoxicating night.
Call me outside to their haunted streets, their red electric lights.
I'm on the sad side of a nowhere town."

I don't want to be anywhere.

He looked at me and said that if he knew my life depended on it then we should have set higher hopes.

Desperation

"I had been vividly in touch with myself for
[my entire life] and now I'd had enough."

Disconnection

The ties that formed a means of understanding and relating to all of those that I care for have slipped from my hands.

The Straw That Broke The Camel's Back

I am only writing this right now to merely distract my mind from the less painful things that it wanders to. You liked me because of how my past, and the world, shaped me, whether that was my choice or not. You liked that the cruel, bad, the little things, did not harden me, turn me cold, those things did not make me bitter or mean. Superficial. You saw and felt how things affected me, saddened me, made me compassionate, understanding, vulnerable. I was different than most people, and you said that you knew that from the very first time that we spoke. This was not at all because I was nice, or friendly, open, or even weak, but I think because I was not the same. As time passed, you and I discovered together how I was in fact no better off because of how I dealt with it all, you did help me, while being as provoked as turned off by my honesty and sensitivity. I did not lash out, or actually give many hints whatsoever at what I was contemplating or feeling inside. You would be devastated in turn every single time that I got away with playing it cool. I was fragile, but I was real, you liked that, you even called me "simple", and I tried my very best not to immediately (and forever) take that negatively. My sensitive nature's expanse did not end within myself; you liked how terribly concerned I was with dealing with you, and even moreover, you, singularly. You liked that you could make me feel however you wanted me to, that I was malleable, but still so much myself. It was so bittersweet for the both of us how moved I was by practically and seemingly everything. You liked how I held close each story, every word, all details about you, I respected our privacy, and yours. I spoke the words more times than you had ever heard, "I have never told anyone this ever before". Though, it appeared that all things affected me quite deeply, that I was possibly growing, but indefinitely growing increasingly damaged over all things. I thought too much, too in-depth, too long, too specifically. I was so sentimental that I could kill us both in that, you liked it, it also revolted you. I was dependable, enduring, but smothering, overbearing. It was spectacular and terrible, the weight of knowing what it was that you meant to me. I worsened a bit will all things, I gave up, easily, easier. You saw my slow recovery, you knew of the sulking, the mulling over, the writing, the picking apart. You felt the self-loathing, the melancholy, the mistrust, the incurable infatuation with melodramatics. I told you I was in love with you, but not to worry about it, I told you that because I cared about you more than I loved you. When you disappeared, the aspects that I could not find either were a tiny bit of faith, self-esteem, my motivation, determination, a little reason to wake up in the morning, a small amount of try. You sneakily crawled out from under my heavy and different caring, knowing that I would never be the same. But that it was worth it.

We both knew I thought too highly of you, for both of our sakes.

Two Thousand Twelve

last year I wrote:  

with you 

it was all so sensory, i was able to feel it then, how i knew it would end - cold turkey 

like the day after thanksgiving 

realizing we'll probably never have another holiday together again

while this year:  

I will stay in hiding 

from you, and everything 

in a dark, and closed-mouthed sort of shame

I See Now

I don't love you or miss you now
I only miss that time when life was better
I convince myself of this until
I think about your letters..

Almost

 

 

A Full Night's Sleep

1. never give yourself what you think you deserve, always give yourself more than that.
2. if someone has left you hanging, if everyone has left you hanging, see what it is that they left you with, preservation, or rope.
3. he prepared for the fire that would burn every bit of proof that the last year existed, i wished to join in, whatever that meant, though didn't have the energy.
4. i had a dream last night that you wouldn't really look at me, just sat near by, listening intently to everything that i said. all my words, all of my actions (dramatic ploys), all for you, but looked as if for others, or even farther off, for myself. you spoke to me once the entire dream, after observing me so carefully from the corner of your eye, you asked if i was going to oakland, i wanted more than anything to have the willpower not to reply (fight fire with fire), but instead spoke, "yes".

Misrepresentation

I've never felt this way before, like I have tricked everyone into thinking I am someone that I am not (or rather, am a whole lot more of).

Piteousness

you give me a half inch
i run miles until i am sick

you always land on your feet
the difference between you and i
i land face first again, and again
like, "meet me half way"

arrested development, i'll add to the list of things you took hostage
take the easy way out, once more, because
(you don't)
call me pathetic finally, let's get this whole thing over with
i have been waiting so long, since before i even was