I have a lot of insecurities and self doubt
There are a lot of things that I don’t particularly love about myself
The way that I would second guess most of the decisions I made
The way that I used to prowl about,
and devour every man that made me feel like a prostitute without pay
I often times sit and ponder about how insufferably
rich I could have been, if only I had been using my head
These insecurities and self doubt,
They live in me like the blood that pumps through my veins
It’s not as though I've lost my pride
Or the emptiness I feel deep inside
It’s like a blade, without the sharp tip
plunging into my heart
And the tears swirl beautifully down the drain
disappearing, and turning into a drought
A river bled dry, of all it's renowned glory
and distasteful self perpetuating doubt
The fruits of my labor are not regrets that I wish to take back
Rather lessons that I've learned
While stumbling along the wrong side of the tracks
© 2013 Christina Jackson
I am slowly deteriorating.
The world ceases to exist in my head, and hours pass quickly,
And seconds feel like hours.
I stare blankly at a wall, for these mindless periods of time,
And it does not seem real.
Who says that the life I live serves a specific purpose?
What purpose does my life have if I do not accomplish anything?
These questions have ripped me apart, so I strongly suggest you do not take them to heart.
I am depersonalized,
Nothing is right in my head, and I fear my emotions are too fake for people to feed off anymore.
Do I live this way, in a constant confusion, for the rest of my life?
Or will this condition of questioning go away?
I have deteriorated myself,
And caused myself to decay at too young of an age.
It is true,
Curiosity killed the cat, the cat being my brain.
This is my final goodbye to you. And I'm so sorry. I know I said that you would always have me. I know I promised that I would be waiting right here for you to come back to me. But outside, as the seasons passes countlessly, the air chilled me to the bone and the wind howled into my ears, shaking and beating my body into havoc. I'm not retreating; I'm moving forward.
Maybe I waited so long because I'm used to the abuse. It's all I have ever loved. And up till now, I believed it was all I deserved. I grew up never knowing love and so I ended up searching for it in all the wrong places. I'm afraid you're another misguided destination. But I don't really mean that. I guess. We were somewhat good for each other. If we hadn't met, neither of us would be in existence today. I still remember how you convinced me there is a reason to live on my 17th birthday. I was the one, despite your anger and will, that saved you from the damage you inflicted on yourself.
It's rather upsetting how clearly I can remember all of the good memories. How you were so truly in love with me before you even knew it. You treated me like the most beautiful and fascinating girl and for once in my life, I believed it. I really believed it. I miss it all. The nights that we stayed up, endlessly asking each other questions because we wanted to know every little detail. At 4 a.m. you apologized for keeping me up on a school night and I told you that I would much rather talk to you than sleep. And by your reaction, I knew you were not used to that and so tried from there on to make you feel as special as you truly are. Our first date, exploring downtown, you never let go of my hand. I had boyfriends before but...they never held my hand in public. And I thought that was the loveliest thing. And when you kissed me for the first time, or rather every time, every atom of my body electrified. The early mornings, under covers, you touched my skin so gently....But ever before we knew each other, when we just gazed at each other across campfires and crowded rooms, I knew I wasn't through with you. However, I'm afraid that time has arrived. I knew this time would eventually come, but nothing could have prepared me.
The happy moments may exist in distant memories, but this overwhelming pain, hatred, sadness, and desperation is constant proof of the reckless and apathetic wreckage you have inflicted. How you chose every single thing over me. Over us. Our relationship was such a joke. You will never love anything more than those damn chemicals in that fucking needle. I could never be close to you because that blonde cum covered bitch was between us from the start. And in the end, you acted as if this relationship was too much effort for you.
When you said goodbye, I knew it wasn't for the last time. We always find our way back to each other. But I have to close the door. I can't allow you to enter my life again. Although I love you to the ends of the earth, I have to start loving myself. No matter how difficult that may be. I'm sorry.
Te amo, mi novio.
A kiss is just a kiss.
Unless it's not.
Your hands are only hands,
But they're not.
Not when they're tangled in mine.
There is nothing else in my life that fills me with such joy that I think I will disintegrate
How can flesh and blood and bones
Possibly hold a feeling like that?
I tell you you're killing me
But that's what I mean.
It's not the fear that I'll lose you
That makes me wonder if I'll live for another minute.
It's the bliss that you are near me.
It's not what it sounds like-
It's not pain.
It's so much joy that my hands shake.
I don't think we were made-
Fragile as we are-
To feel things like the things you make me feel.
When you touch me,
I am unmade for a moment,
And it is exquisite.
Maybe you think I see you through pain and fear
Are only my defense
Against the idea that I could feel so safe, and so complete,
And so perfectly happy that
The smile in my heart could break every bone in my insignificant shell of a body
If it were to crash over me in full.
Maybe I'm scared of that,
Of the fact that when you look at me
Every part of me, down to the atom, thrills with electricity.
Maybe you think I hate myself, abused and tossed aside,
And that is partially the truth,
But when you look at me and smile
I love every cell of me
And they all love me back
And together we decide that nothing that can be touched with fingertips
Is possibly vast enough
Or durable enough
Or beautiful enough
To hold the feeling of looking back at you.
A kiss is just a kiss
Unless it pulls you apart by the molecule
And lets the light shine in on all the little tiny spaces between.
This body is no instrument fit to play the song I hear when I touch you.
This beating heart is no vessel for how alive I feel when you pull me closer.
I am too tall not to fall to my knees and gaze up at the lines of a face I love madly,
But I am too small to hold that love
Far too small.
That's what I mean to say.
Anger builds inside of me this secret can't get out.
What would they think,
of the girl who stayed with the asshole,
but that isn't the truth.
and he isn't an asshole.
It was just a kiss,
a kiss that should have been mine.
It was yours to give.
He gave it to another girl.
She smelled bad, her lips were so small.
I hold on to those lines,
they make me feel better.
I feel terrible, I miss you, I can't forgive myself.
He speaks the truth.
His stomach drops.
I haven't told a single soul.
How much pain a small kiss brought.
A moment that could have been ours to have,
was stolen from my grasp.
I was cheated that one kiss.
I was cheated that one stare.
I was cheated that one moment,
were you loved me enough to not give in
to any amount of pressure that was felt.
It was only a kiss, but it wasn't hers to have,
it shouldn't have been yours to give.
It was only a kiss, but it broke me.
I feel somehow that they have mislabeled you
Perhaps just penned you in the wrong ink...
I'm not sure
It seems when I try to describe you, the idea goes sailing away and never anchors home
Slippery one might say...
As the man crawling beneath a rolled-over vehicle, slathered in blood and puke
Like the words that had beckoned to him "C'mon let's go for a ride..." now thoroughly lost
Nothing more then a few grueling moments in agony before it was just a memory and a phrase that didn't quite seem to fit...
Unreal. What did that word even mean?
It felt insulting.
As though the momentary terror that had consumed your reality was nothing more then a passing storm -- No more then a ghost or a Flying Dutchman...
But could the same not be said for it all?
Is any of this really what we came here for?
The choice alone is too much for me not to waste it and I fear if I leave it for too long that the choice will inevitably make itself...
Perhaps that in turn is the choice
The freedom to be or not...
Some people may say I “day dream”
I’d call it pre-occupied
They say “absentminded”
And that I’m “wasting my time”
But I call it time well spent
My father says I “waist the day away”
Laying around with my cat
And laying on my bed,
In the woods, or just in my own head
But I know he is wrong
My mother would say I “dilly-dally”
But she would just be assuming
And the world would never wonder
They are all busy making money
That will never make them happy
I think it’s sad…
Because I see this strange world form a much different,
More beautiful angle
And I believe that if they all stopped for a second
To what I just want to show them
They would see
How beautiful simple can be
My friends say my mind is “complex”
That I’m “dramatic”
Because they don’t see the world through my lenses
My best friends know my mind is like a book
They want me to write one
They would read it if I would
Because when I’m “wasting my time”,
Or “just wasting the day away”
The gears in my mind are turning
As they sink deeper and deeper
To converge with my soul
As I figure my life problems out
As I realize where to start
And what are my goals
The ideas start rolling
You could ask me about them all
And the stress roles off my back
Its one of the ways I attempt to cope
Sometimes depression sets in
Sometimes I feel more beautiful within
So if you ask me
You will find that I see it as something different
Ill ask you, is my time wasted
Or time well spent
He wants to sleep.
But there are answers out there of which are still undreamed of.
He pushes on despite the dreams he is deprived of.
What fickle rest he gets he tries to make the most of.
He just wants to sleep.
She wants to sleep.
But there are things she simply cannot rid her mind of.
She thinks the thoughts she dares not ever think to speak of.
There are things she knows her mind cannot talk her heart out of.
She just wants to sleep..
He wants to sleep.
But his future he must now reach out and take hold of.
There are so many things he wishes he could be a part of.
But he knows it is all his life right now can consist of.
He just wants to sleep.
She wants to sleep.
But there is someone out there that she thinks the world of.
Yet someone she can't help but feel she is not deserving of.
The person she needs to be she surely must fall short of.
She just wants to sleep.
He wants to sleep.
He wants to be free of the thing he's under the thumb of.
But he works to be someone he knows he can be proud of.
Only then the burden he holds can he let go of.
Then he can finally sleep.
She wants to sleep.
But there is no rest of the wicked or for those in love.
She lies for hours thinking of the things she's impatient of.
She finally arises, her thoughts she must now write of.
Then she can finally sleep.
Billie Jean is not my lover.
My dear neither are you.
I can't get over The Way You Make Me Feel.
There is nothing I can do.
If only things were Black or White,
I might not be confused.
I Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'.
Boy you're giving my the blues.
Can't you see I'm a Pretty Young Thing?
Just Give In to Me.
Surely you see I'm a Supafly Sister.
Why You Wanna Trip On Me?
Maybe it's just my Human Nature.
Maybe I'm just Too Young.
Everybody's Somebody's Fool.
Just hope I'm not your one.
I just want you to Hold My Hand,
But I guess it's Much Too Soon.
It's just that you give me Butterflies.
Now I want to Rock With You.
You might think that it's Dangerous,
So you might want to be Just Good Friends.
But I think we should Come Together.
I'd be the best Girlfriend!
Afraid of the Unknown, afraid of Discovery
Fear is Our one unconditional tendency -
One that will never
Allow Us to feel free.
Put me in a cobra,
Put me in a tree,
Whether as a lion,
Or a bumblebee -
Will my body still be blamed
For limiting me?
The battle is Fear against Liberty,
And given that Existence
Is largely mentality
My only real limitation
"Freedom is a state of mind."