Bathing in my own hair,
Basking in my own filth,
Remembering, painstakingly,
The roads that I’ve built.
Was that glance purely friendly?
Or was it a mask of contempt?
Memories, haunting me,
As I uncover the truth.

Bathing in my own hair,
Caressing me, tormenting me,
Reminding me of all I’ve lost,
As it flies into the air.
The water flows in and out,
My mood goes up and down.
Life’s rollercoaster is sickening,
My motion sickness, my undoing.
Entangled in the fibers,
Surrounded by liars,
That claimed to be my friend.
Isolationism,
Personal despotism,
All due to a bitter end.

Bathing in my own hair,
My failures cascading.
Basking in my self-worth,
Esteem breaking.
If I lost what little I had,
Perhaps, I’m just not meant to hold,
Friendship in my grasp.
From my experience, it doesn’t last.
The waters ripple,
My tears crippling me.
I wonder, would I have been happier,
If we were never to meet?

Bathing in my own hair,
Tying my wrists to my chest.
Vulnerable as my demons,
Take me to their lair.
They beat me, chastise me,
Critique me and torment me,
Till I’m nothing more than when my friends left me.
Isolationism,
Personal despotism.

Bathing in my own hair,
Watching my pain float around me,
It encircles me, constantly reminding me of my plight.
Is it being too cowardly,
To block myself from the light.
A hermit out on his own;
A lonely monarch who sits on his throne;
A beggar searching for a home;
All of these end up alone.

Bathing in my own hair,
Bound and gagged by my bleeding heart.
I thought I had found my place,
Now I’m stranded back at the start.
Far too late—to reach out now,
Everyone’s floating on their own, separate clouds,
While I remain on the ground,
Contemplating the pain I’ve found.
Yet, bitterly and ironically,
I crave the memories,
Because they remind me,
Of a time when I was happy.
I wash my body in the filth,
Recalling the euphoria.

Bathing in my own hair,
Scrubbing the fabric across my skin.
It burns, the soap is just like acid.
Maybe I don’t wish to be clean,
But to be seen,
And not abandoned repeatedly.

Recently, I've been feeling sad and alone.
I think it's mainly because I'm scared.
I'm scared that my past will come haunting me again.
I feel like I'm exaggerating but.. I'm not.
It felt like emotional abuse, mental abuse coming from someone you thought loved you, or.. At least they'd say they do, and then emotionally block you out, ignore you, blame you, make you feel like you're the problem, like everything is your fault..
And then you feel like you're going crazy.
I was mentally NOT okay..
I needed someone, but felt like I had no one
I have supportive friends, but it was still hard, or eventually, they'll get tired of you, too.
Eight months of feeling drained, tired, burnt out, feeling used, doing badly in school, my hair falling out, sleeping all day, my body constantly being in fight or flight mode, body aching, and going through changes, constant panic attacks.
I felt unheard, not loved. I was silenced, walking on eggshells, crying every day.
I lost myself to someone childish.
And well.. Because I love deeply, because I care and was hopeful. I'd say it's okay, he will change.
But now I'd never be able to get that old lover girl version of me back.
I've changed into someone who feels like they are too much and never enough.
I'm just scared to go back to all of that, to fall into that same emotional/mental state I used to be in. It was awful.
To feel like things I'd ask for was too much, that I was too much But I wasn't..
I was only asking for love, comfort, words of affirmation, to spend quality time together, to talk to one another, to have deep meaningful conversations, to connect on a deeper level of intimacy..But I mostly mean emotional connection to be able to understand each other to KNOW each other, but I guess that was too much right? Did it made you feel uncomfortable?
But you were okay with being intimate right? Touching my body, doing ****** things, even when I felt uncomfortable
But it wasn't okay to talk about our feelings right?, how we felt and the things that made us uncomfortable.
But it's okay, I'm just an idiot.
Sometimes I don't understand why I took you back when it was still hurting.
I still cry at night, I cry to your voice, I cry at the sight of you because it hurts, because I'm scared to be vulnerable with you again, I'm scared of getting used, I'm scared that you'll get drunk again and yell and speak to me harshly the way my drunken dad would to my mom.
It really hurts.
I just wanted to feel safe with someone who isn't scared of my emotions, someone who isn't scared to take care of me. I wanted to feel loved and feel known.
I wanted you to be the only person I needed in my life besides family.
But instead you made me feel so alone
I'm different now, I don't get as attached to you anymore, I don't ask for quality time anymore, I don't care if you'll be able to come see me or not. I don't care if you get mad at something I do.
I don't care if you ignore me, I don't care if you kiss me, hug me , give me flowers, because it's too late.
How do I know your being real? Genuine? honest? I don't..
Not After Everything.

I want to burn for you,
Like the sun does for life on Earth.
I want to you to orbit around me,
Like I am your whole world.
I want you to watch me set and rise,
and glow with my light.
I want to burn till there's nothing left,
and all you remember is the warmth of me.
Until you can't find what you need in others,
until you need me to breath.
Like we need our trees,
until other lovers stop satisfying you.
For in this universe, and every other.
I am meant to be yours,
As you are mine.
So don't ignore me,
or brighten around someone else.
They are not your sun.
I need you to live,
I need your salty pain rolling off my cheeks.
I need your burning love,
I need it until I can no longer breathe.
Please don't leave me, my darling,
I can't walk this world without you.
Your soul has a thorned grip around my heart;
it bleeds.
But the wounds still heal,
because the blood is proof of our strength.
We're still standing, together.
Hand in hand, even if I have to beg you to stay.

Do not leave me alone with a pen and a scrap of paper.
For I will bleed.
For my mind will spill through my eyes.
Eyes that have seen more than they should have in fifteen years

Do not leave me in the kitchen.
They say it’s the most romantic room in a house
In a home.
But this is not a home

So here I serve
I serve you dinner
Dinner with a pen and a knife.

you told me you were *******.... you said it like I meant so much to you, but I did know the truth, I know you probably say that to everyone, I was just the girl who was there that night, wrong place wrong time sort of thing.
you kept saying everything I wanted to hear, or everything you thought I wanted to hear.... but you were wrong, you were wrong when you said sorry about how I'm not with that guy anymore, when you held my hand or got me water, I was drunk, it was an opportunity that was to easy for you, you were wrong when you laughed and called me perfect, everything was so wrong....
those lies that leaked through your teeth were toxic to my bloodstream, I had heard them a million times
so you say your *******, that I'm different but I know it's a lie don't say your the one ******* when I feel like I'm gonna die.

Tu m’as montrée qui tu es
La chose la plus généreuse que tu n’as jamais pu me donner
Comme ça
J’ai su que je n’avais aucun autre choix
Autre que partir.

The blood on my hands has begun to dry,
Along with my eyes, no more tears to cry.
I did what I did, I don’t regret their demise,
So why do I feel so conflicted inside?
I go into the bathroom and walk to the sink.
I pour myself a cup and take a small drink.
While deep inside, I’m boiling to the brink.
And if I don’t let it out, I’m destined to sink.
I look in the mirror, and all I see,
Are two eyes freezing cold.
I don’t remember who’s staring back at me,
I’m still not used to this mold.
I used to be a coward,
My will to speak overpowered.
While everyone around spoke so loud,
I’d sit at my desk and not make a sound.
But I made a vow to speak louder,
No longer will I be a coward.
I’ll say what I mean and mean what I say,
I’ll be a good man to my dying days.
I’ll find my hill and make my stand,
Holding on tight with my bloodied hands.
I stare into my two cold eyes,
My guise overwhelming my surprise.
I wash the blood off my hands.
I hope this was worth it in the end.
Since it takes a lot to change an identity,
I gaze in the mirror at the new me.

you said
it would work out.

it didn’t.

i hate
that i knew
i’d be right.