The most hurtful thing you could do was to agree with my own demons.
Was to see the broken things i was saying to myself – things that hurt me to its very 3am core as the solution to my tears
Was to say to me killing all of which i am trying to desperately and brokenly love back as the antidote
you don’t even see that i’m killing me.
And i dont want your empathy
Not when ive to gain it with blunt explanations cheap things i can give to anyone. It sooner kill me than i will.
Ahahaha oh my gosh this was from so long ago!! I was pretty upset over it but in hindsight i was being silly. But sometimes people just need others to see the best in them to recover, to see the hope or to see nothing at all – nothing wrong – nothing that dooms them to their failures. Thats what hope is.
And yet the way you look at me as if you’re talking to me – you’re talking to me – but we’re surrounded by people
Endless people, prettier people, funnier people, better people
And i’m scared of the moment when you’d realise all of that and be disappointed with me, with yourself for caring at all
Why am i always in this situation? Why am I always so stupid?
***** i need to stop this rubbish. Gonna stop giving a shit. I need to live authentically, live without fear without this unnecessary insecurity!! People are only insecure when they want something and are afraid they cant get it. But look!!! What is there to be afraid of?? And does feeling like you cant change the situation???? No!!!! So stop!!!
*** wrote this a while back but things have changed so much but i guess my feelings are still real and slowly fading but still there
Omg ive figured it out – the key to this sadness!! Things dont have to change, i can keep expressing my love and admiration and care for this person and be cared for in return. Friendship is a two way street afterall and just because of this latest discovery, it changes nothing and now im gonna learn more abt genuine caring and learning how to make friends and how to stay true to myself. Gonna learn abt authenticity!!!
And even afterwards, you had a way of leaking back into my life,
Seeping into my words like a broken fountain pen.
No, perhaps ‘flooding’ is more appropriate, the way
You exuded my mind as a swarm of writing prompts,
Sweeping through, making a home in all my emptiness,
Romanticising the way loneliness wrapped its tendrils around my neck;
Mascara-smudged eyes, ice-cream binge clichés,
Offering a vaccine to writer’s block
(How could a writer, of all people, refuse that?)
But of all the words that have slipped from my mouth,
Of all the words that you so unknowingly stained,
These will be the last, I am sure of it,
For there must be lighter things to write about
Than bleeding hearts and charred souls.
I am finally sick of the forced giggles and loud voices that Push through these lips – my lips, that walked into other lips the way…
You were born a child of the universe.
You entered battling meteors on the backs of shooting stars,
Found your voice alongside thunderstorms and earthquakes,
Wrote your name into a constellation, and carved out your own orbits.
You can paint the entire galaxy from memory,
So don’t you dare tell me you are afraid of glass, because
Sometimes, the world will rob you of what is rightfully yours,
But that is why you were given legs, so you can chase after adversity the way lightening chases darkness.
I want you to be like the lakes that shine, so stubbornly blue, even when the sky is grey.
You are not to be silenced by full stops, expiry dates,
You are no contortionist, you were never able to fit into boxes.
Your voice is not laundry that can be folded and put away. Never apologise for being right…