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Jan 2017 · 586
Love is only temporary
Emily Nemec Jan 2017
The most ironic thing is you said you didn’t want to hurt me
And maybe in your eyes you didn’t but there’s a hole in the wall and my knuckles are bruised
It’s ironic because a month ago you asked who made me stop believing in love
And now the answer is you
Because you told me that you liked me and six days later you took it back
You spun me beautiful webs of what the future could look like
But then you lit the thread on fire and watched me burn up with it
Still holding my heart out to you like it was a ******* peace offering
I dont believe in love because the way you look at her breaks my heart
I know how much you miss her and I know how much you need her and I know she isn’t yours
And it’s not even jealousy I feel it’s just sadness because you deserve much better than hanging by your fingertips on every word she says
Waiting for the hint that she loves you
But darling
She will never need you like that
You don’t deserve to sit on the steps with your broken heart in your hands waiting for someone who will never come home to you
And I’m learning
Slowly but surely
That I don’t deserve that either.
Jan 2017 · 682
Untitled
Emily Nemec Jan 2017
You couldn’t look at me.
I was right there, and you couldn’t look at me.
Maybe it killed you to see that I could smile without you, that I could laugh with someone who wasn’t you. Maybe you finally realized that I could breathe and live, and that I didn’t need you after all.
Because at some point I got tired of chasing, chasing someone who was never going to come around. I was a fool, going back and forth playing your stupid, little game. The difference between you and I though, I tried to get through to your heart - I cared, I loved, and you didn’t. You could’ve let me in, you should’ve let me in, you needed to let me in.
But you made a decision, and your decision wasn’t me
Jan 2016 · 2.1k
A mans world.
Emily Nemec Jan 2016
You see, my daddy raised me to be a fighter. He taught me that sometimes to get through this world you have to raise your fists to get what you want. He told me it was a man’s world, and he didn’t want his little girl to get pushed down, and kicked on. He told me to always fight for what I thought was right.
I never thought much of it until I was older, until I opened my eyes. It wasn’t until I realized we were in a man’s world, a world where men had the upper hand.
A world where I couldn’t wear tank tops on a hot day to school, because it was deemed “too inappropriate for male students and teachers.” Instead of teaching men to not see sexualized images in young girls, we had to suffice.
A world where when I took cooking class, all the girls were expected to be better than the boys. Because it was where we belonged, where we would spend most our time, in the kitchen. When I burned the cake I was looked down upon, but when he did it, it was a joke, a funny accident.
A world where if you say no to the wrong boy, the next day the whole school will either look at you as a ****, when you haven’t even been touched before. Or they will look at you as a ****, a coldhearted one, just because you weren’t interested in him. Yet it’s totally okay when he says no to you, only then “no means no.”
A world where when a women takes charge in an office, company, she is now considered “head *****.” Yet when a man takes charge, he is a boss, someone to respect.
A world where little girls are taught at an early age to never walk alone on the streets, always have someone with you. Instead of teaching little boys to never harm a soul. That when a girl is walking alone it doesn’t mean she’s vulnerable, or is asking for it, she is just going home.
We live in a world where women are expected to be submissive to men, because if we aren’t we are taking away “a part of their manhood.” The only time you’ll find me submissive is in the bedroom, and that will be fifty percent of the time. I will be no one’s notch lower, a shelf down, a step behind, I will be there right with them, side by side. No women should feel less than to a man.
Apr 2015 · 1.5k
Teenagers
Emily Nemec Apr 2015
I'm a teenager. I get mad at my parents. I like to get into trouble. I'm obsessed with technology. I don't know how to sit down and have a conversation with another human. I don't know how to have feelings.

I'm a teenager. I like to do drugs. I want to go to jail. I want to mess my life up.

I'm a teenager. I'm supposed to be prefect. I have to be happy, get good grades, and be popular. I'm supposed to be the best, but I'm not.

I'm a teenager. I can't be good. I'm built into a hating machine.

I'm a teenager. I should be able to be what I want, love who I love, but I can't. I have to have permission to be human.

I'm a teenager.
I can sit and talk.
I can be happy.
I can love.
I can be human.

It's hard to be right when you're not the one saying what's wrong

I'm a human, but I'm only a teenager.
Because when your a teenager your almost not human.
Apr 2015 · 604
That day in your lives
Emily Nemec Apr 2015
We all get to that point in our lives. Our darkest hour. Wether it's crying on the floor, broken, deserted, or wether we feel like a pointless spec, bouncing through an empty universe, we've all been there. There's a difference between being a good person, and having people think you're a good person. Being a good person doesn't mean being thanked by other people for an act of kindness. Being a good person can be helping someone and not taking a reward. It can be a random act of kindness without a prize. But being a good person is always about being happy with what you did for someone regardless of how they take it. And it's ok to be looking to for thanks because sometimes we just need to be noticed. Some times we just want some one to say "hey i see what you do for people." We want to be cared for. We want to be loved. We all just need someone. Someone for the nights when every chug is for someone we weren't good enough to keep. For the days we wander aimlessly hoping they this think about us. For the nights when each cut is deeper than the last one, and every breath slips from our lungs. For the nights we can't sleep and stay up writing the same words "I'm sorry." We want someone there for us on those nights when nobody else was. We want someone to care for us even when no one else would. We want someone to loves us even though we can't love ourselves. And before they know it were gone. The boy who never spoke. The girl who always wore a jacket, even when it was 100 degrees out. All gone. And then people decide to care. We all need someone to care for us,** so why don't we care for those who are in need?
Feb 2015 · 392
Another about him.
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
We fell for each other in the spur of the moment, completely out of control and all at once.
Within the space of a week we became almost emotionally inseparable and craved each others touch, as if I were the food and you were a starving being.
You made me feel more alive than ever when I wanted to die, and that’s when I knew you were dangerous.
You are a poison to me,
with each word you speak you enlighten me in ways I never knew possible, in such little time.
You spoke to me as if I was the center of all of your world.
This of course being most certainly untrue, it never hurt to feel that way.
You’re the poem I’ve always wanted to write
Your person being the vocabulary I always struggled to string together
Your mind, so straight forward to me, still stands as an enigma
For the little time we discovered each other in, I’m entirely grateful to have met a presence like yours
And even if you are the death of me, and I get brutally murdered in this love affair
It is definitely going to be a passionate ending, to the passionate life I have always dreamt of
I love you.
Feb 2015 · 419
Life
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
You’re going to be sad. You’re going to want to scream and punch things. Do it. Let out every ounce of anger you have. Sit on the floor and cry until you feel numb. Listen to songs that make your heart sink to your feet. Write angry letters to all the people who have broken you, left you, ignored you or hurt you. Throw your hairbrush at the wall. Do it twelve times. Do it until you feel like you can breathe again. You’re going to be sad. You’re going to want to hurt yourself. Don’t you dare do it. Sit on the floor and watch cartoons like you did when you were little. Listen to songs that make you want to dance around your bedroom in your underwear at 3 A.M. Make paper airplanes out of those angry letters and watch them soar into the fireplace. Brush all the knots out of your hair and say “I am worth it” into the mirror. Say it twelve times. Say it until you feel like you can breathe again. You’re going to be sad. You’re going to get through it.
Feb 2015 · 608
fifty eight
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
I have this horrible thing where I don’t feel worthy of anything. I don’t really feel worthy of a job or worth any kind of wage because in all honesty I don’t see that I have much to offer the world.
I never feel entitled to a break. I can never relax and guilt basically runs my life. I always feel like I should be doing something because otherwise I’m a waste of time and space.
I never feel like I’m worth anyone’s attention or time. Being a burden on people is one of my greatest fears and it’s why I never ask for help. I don’t want to be a daily burden on any person - not that I’d be worth a person’s time in any regard.
I don’t feel like I’m worth love. Or friendship, for that matter. I’m at a point where I don’t even know what the word ‘friendship’ really means.
I guess some people will say “change your mindset”, but that’s such an easy thing to say and not something I’ve been able to do. It’s been this way since I was a child and I guess I can hope things will get better, but right now all I’m trying to do is manage my mental state and avoid another breakdown
Feb 2015 · 392
Untitled
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
--
i need to kiss you so badly. one of those kisses where
i am pressed against you as much as possible and my hands are in your hair moving down your back, clutching to you in any way
i possibly can, kissing you as deeply as possible and thinking
you're
mine
mine
*mine
Feb 2015 · 557
Him
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
Him
He dosent write poems but you hope he loves you like one you hope he see you like a symphony, like a sculpture, like paint or clay, like something he can get his hands on. you hope hes painting you in colors that dont even exist just so he can give them a name. you hope he see you like every sunset he has ever missed. you dont understand the way he thinks but you hope he thinks of you often.. i hope you think of me as *art.
Feb 2015 · 383
*why*
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
Why do bad things happen?"
“Why does evil exist?”
“Why is the world becoming more sinful everyday?”
These are questions that are asked on a regular basis and it is proven that no answer is perfect enough to respond with. It is healthy to question the sadism on earth and it is normal to be concerned about all of the evil that took and is taking place in history. But a question that is asked very seldom today is, “why do good things happen?”
I think cancer is the most talked about killer in all of the world. It’s murderous, it’s dreadful, and unfortunately, there is no way to stop it. Humans do not have control over some bad things, like cancer. We physically cannot stop the spreading of diseases in a moment’s notice like how we would like to. Bad things WILL happen and some of those things will be out of our control.
Take thunderstorms, for example. We cannot physically halt the demolition of a thunderstorm and we have no control over what it annihilates. But, the one thing we can control is our reaction. Humans can control reactions. Do we rush for shelter? Do we pretend that its power to destroy every fabric of the city is nonexistent? Do we panic? Do we hide our loved ones first? We control the answers to these questions.
The beauty of life falls under the definition of a storm passing. The bad things are temporary. The bad things will always pass and once they do, it leaves another muscle in our hearts. Every lightning strike, every roar of thunder, every gray cloud, and every rainy day prepares us for the next storm. Our reaction to the eradication will be much more courageous than our last. Maybe we’ll know a quicker route to shelter. Maybe we’ll think in a greater sense of serenity. Maybe we’ll know a better position to be in, in order for the storm to not hurt us. The second time around we will take more advantage of what we can do to allay the storms in our lives. The bad things in life will always promise strength.
"Why do the good things happen?" is a question that is very rarely asked.
And well, good things happen because they are supposed to.
It was never God’s intention to make a world that consisted of bad. It was never in His heart to have sin enter the world because good always originates from the source of God. Goodness is God and Love is God, as well. And since Love is God, He gives us the choice to do whatever is in our will. If we love someone, we will not program them into robots, where we control every move they make. If we love someone, we will give them the freedom to perform any action they would like. So when man decided to bring sin in the world, God did not stop it from happening because He loved man so much that He was compelled to let him do whatever man wanted. Before man’s decision to sin, God made sure the world was spotless. But since His love gives us a choice, we chose to bring sin in the world.
Bad things happen because it was chosen by us to let them happen. Sometimes, we cannot control the bad things in the world but we can control our reactions. The downsides in life will never fail to be a life lesson, will never fail to soften our hearts if they need to be a softened and toughen our hearts if they need to be toughened. There is no telling when a bad thing will occur and we are allowed to acknowledge its jeopardy. But, the second time around, we will be prepared. The bad times only strengthen us.
Feb 2015 · 435
fifty seven
Emily Nemec Feb 2015
People say im to picky, too choosey. That i have too much of a say in who i let bruise me that my guard is up to so high i cant see anything but it. That if i stepped off the edge of my walls, i'd plummet. I say i am like a shirt buttoned-up incorrectly.that i am a moment that lasts indefinitely. The problem with me is i love until i dont. That i will always stay till i wont. i am though trying to move into a person like they are a home. Every time i pack my bags, i know im am better off alone. people say i need to open up and let people in. but what if they are a tsunami and i dont know how to swim?

— The End —