There is a voice inside me, she is the younger version of me.
And she is terrified of the person I am becoming.
She is knocking on my nerves and rattling my bones.
She's that tiny voice trying to eliminate the demonic voices.
"I want out" she screams "this is not who I want to become".
I am not a girl controlled by numbers.
Stop counting calories and restricting.
Don't pick up that blade, it won't save you.
He loves you idiot! Why can't you see that?
You're sitting in you room pushing everyone away.
Once they leave for good it will drive you insane.
You think you're crazy now, just watch as the time goes by.
It will eat at your conscience, I promise you'll hate yourself more.
Why did you stop doing the things you love?
Who are you?
This is not the girl who frolicked in the meadows and embraced the sunlight.
You are dark, lifeless, and cruel. I would say you're better off dead but that girl is still there.
Hidden beneath all of the addictions, medication, and diseases.
Go ahead and list off all of the things wrong with you.
4. Eating Disorder
Yes, you have them but that isn't who you are.
The disease can only kill you once you become it.
Find yourself, find me, find this girl you only have so much time.
He had his own scent
His own type of aura
It came off like clouds of dust
From within his skin, burnt sienna
He had something shiny there
Some kind of hazy dream
But if I ever asked about it
He'd say it's not what it seems
You see, my daddy was a smoking man
But I didn't know quite yet
The meaning of that phrase
Not to its full extent
I was intrigued with his eyes
And the way he spoke
I would watch forms shape
From thick, grey, and poisonous smoke
He had something earthy there
Wrapped in some tin foil
He would rub it in his hands
And trade cash for his spoils
You see, my daddy was a merchant man
I learned that on a cold night
Sitting alone in his rusty jeep
When the other men wanted to fight
My daddy looked to me
Telling me to look away
Maybe, I should have listened
It was took late anyway
An explosion sounded
It's echo ringing in my ear
My daddy on the ground
Convulsing in fear
Screaming, someone was screaming
I stop to listen
And realize it was me
My feet were moving
And I was there next to him
Trying to stop the blood
That was covering my skin
He had a look on his face
Like he was trying to explain
But every time he tried to speak
He didn't know what to say
He had some kind of waste there
The wind had scattered all around
He was too deep in this world
No way else to fall down
You see, my daddy was a smoking man
Right down to his core
Couldn't see past the nightmares
To get off of the floor
He got lost in his hazy dreams
Somehow the pain would ease
You see, my daddy was a merchant man
But he let himself get burned
He risked everything he had
And got nothing in return
He took chances with gunshot wounds
Had some silly notion he was immune
But She didnt went and left us for no reason.
She knew she was missing out something.
And she felt it in her veins, in her deep brain connections,
she felt it calling, something was trying to escape, ripping off the skin of the tips of her toes.
And She went after the rabbit, and she trusted the rabbit, although she could see him fading away, although she knew all this vision were just a metaphor for her deep desire to leave all the pain she carried in her heart.
She had no clue of a solution of any kind.
This world that they said being ruled by the intellect, the reason, the sagacity, the wisdom, was after all nothing more than an ugly play taking place on the roof of the finest of all the theater halls.
So she decided to leave it all behind. She decided that was better to be just a witness of this shameless decadent staging they called "Life".
So she left... perhaps to never come back.
I'm living just to die
I'm smiling just to run
I'm laughing just to fake
I'm getting tired I swear I can feel the demons talking
their voices won't disappear they hunt me
I feel weak only god can save me from falling
I get down on my knees I beg and bleed
for forgiveness and for all my sins to be washed away
I cry as I look at the sky
I hurt as I look at me
I bleed as I look at him
please god help me before I lose my mind
I'm trying to smile , laugh
but these wounds are too deep for me to hide
I'm losing what I thought I'll never have
I don't want to go back to that dark place
where I hide alone in the dark and cry
please god help me ...
It's funny, looking at my hands after all this time.
They do so much for me, they are the tools that allow me to do much of what defines me.
So here they are, splayed out in front of my face.
And I am trying to convince myself of something.
That maybe if my hands were just a little bigger, a little wider, a little stronger I could stop it.
I could catch all your tears as they fell.
I could hold you up when you fall.
I could point you in the direction where things wouldn't be so damn awful.
I could grip the fears and terrors of our day to day and
I could beat back the sadness.
But I have only got my hands.
And they seem a little inadequate for the job I need to do.
Because my hands only have so much surface area
And jsut like sand in an open hand
Sadness slips through my fingers
I want to carry the weight of the world on my hands, and give your shoulders a much needed rest.
I have tried.
But fuck, I am sorry.
Because the results seem to be a little lackluster.
I know that I can't stop the sad days, even more than I can create the happy days.
Just know that for you, I will spread my hands like the wings I was never meant to have
And share your burden.
You are not Atlas, Job, or Cain,
And I love you because of that.
Been trying so hard, You make it harder,
Been crying for too long, how do you do this?
I try and I try to remind you of me,
But it's all vain, your stoic.
Why is my heart so soft?
For every wrong you do, it makes it right.
I'm tired, bruised and wounded,
But your words are like my bandage,
Gentle at times, but not too often,
For it's your words that leave me battered but still,
I think about you, dream about you.
Now as a tear roles down my cheek,
I'm used to that sensation,
For every tear has something to say,
This last one just asked me, "Will he ever see me again?"
Waiting for you words, I'm used to that too,
But once, just once is all I ask for,
That you say to me, conscious and sub conscious,
That you miss me too.
We can write the sauciest things
whisper sweet nothings
blue in the face
trying to recapture the grace,
the heat of the moment
exploded fluid dreams
into my wanton mind,
the mind that can,
the power of your demon-side,
the side you hide
waiting for my angel to rise
between your thighs again,
the thighs of my desire,
you devil-doll you.
O, burn baby burn,
burn me a funeral pyre,
melt me with your spell,
I'm dead to all else.
She gently closed her eyes and guided his hand up her thigh
Holding her breath
Trying to block out the part that comes next
Was she doing this out of anger
In spite of someone
Her father perhaps
Or was it genuine
Because sluts just enjoy the name calling
They look forward to guys ignoring them once they've had their fun
It couldn't be
She wanted to prove something
That she was independent
That she was all grown up now
And her father had missed his chance
Being over protective was no longer an option
There was nothing left to protect
She had been touched
She had been hurt
She had been alone
He wasn't there for any of that
It drove her mad
So if she gently closed her eyes and guided his hand up her thigh
And blocked out the part that came next
She would have just a few minutes go by
Without the thought of what she could have been
If he had been there
Just a few minutes of relief
To my dear —,
It's so hard to breathe these days.
Being with you was living in excess
And when you've tasted excess,
Everything else tastes bland.
Yeah, I had everything to lose
But I still loved you as if I was about to die.
It's so hard trying to keep a straight face,
showing that I'm ok,
but I am so far from being ok.
I'm all alone with no one to talk to...
I think I miss that the most,
just having someone to talk to,
someone to share each day with.
I'm scared, I really am...
The thoughts of you not coming back
grow more real each day we're apart.
I don't know how to give you this space without you forgetting about me.
I wish each and every day you'd message me, someway,
just out of the blue and say
I'm coming back,
That you never left.
Most of all;
say the words
that would bring me right back,
that would bring us right back
"I" and "Love" and "You".
you can't fix stupid (but why stop trying?)