I feel like I am fighting in a war in my mind. Every day I get sliced, stabbed, picked and probed at, and out of all the wounds blood comes rushing out. I feel the blood drip down my body and I can see the wounds, and they hurt.
But there's this voice in the back of my head that tells me I have to stop being so soft; that I'm just making the wounds up in my head. All because I'm too **** lazy. The voice screams at me to get up and to keep fighting and that I have to keep fighting until I'm dead. Death is time that I am allowed to rest.
So I keep running and I keep fighting, but the voice in my head was wrong; and those wounds are real; and I'm slowly bleeding to death.
And I'm scared that one day I might not wake up again.
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 4:57 AM UTC
It's funny how desires work. A thought pops up in our mind, and it snowballs to the point that if we don't do it, we fear we may explode in that very moment.
The lustful heart. How dangerous it is for both parties. Secret touches, forbidden words whispered in passing breaths. We all want love. Even for just one second. We crave the sweetness of being adored, even if the aftertaste burns our lips... and hearts. We fall for the wrong people, for the right reasons; most of the time. We fall in love with how a person laughs, or talks, or the way their eyes crinkle ever so slightly when they smile. We notice the tiniest things about them and grow fascinated by them. Curiosity about the scar on their hand or why they don't know how to react when you say sweet words to them. You watch everything they do and store it in your mind. A memory to re-watch on the days you miss them. But we can also get addicted to the way they make us feel. How the world doesn't seem so vast anymore or how your heart slows as they hold you. You memorise how their hands feel in yours and you make blueprints of their lips in your mind. You get addicted to the electric shock down your body as their undivided attention is on you. Do you really love them or do you just love not being alone? Both, perhaps.
Oh, how curious the human heart is. Capable of feeling so profoundly and deeply but capable of killing it the very next second. How quickly our feelings change. They cannot be trusted. Promise me you won't fall for the trap of love again. I ask you, no, I beg you, please don't do it. I am only nineteen years old, but I have felt the greatest of heartbreaks. Love, in this world, will destroy you. Maybe, I have only ever known the wrong types of love. The love of an abusive dad, of cheating and abusive boyfriends, the love of someone who is truly not meant for me. I have been heart broken and I have broken hearts; I wish for neither any more.
Being heart broken makes you feel like you will surely die the very next moment. No air enters your lungs, lips and mind frozen in time as you feel every piece of your shattered heart fall. Every moment death does not take you, you taunt the devil so that he may come quicker.
However, in some ways, being the heart breaker can feel even darker. You meet the side of yourself you thought would remain in hell. So cruel and inhuman. To see someone crawling on their knees begging for the scrapes of your love, but the best that you can afford to give them is time, and when you get bored, you cannot even afford that anymore. You turn and laugh as they scramble to pick up the pieces of their heart before the wind blows them away.
No, I do not wish for either. But if I were forced to choose one, I'd choose to have my heart broken. A painful reminder that life is real. How dull our lives would be with no heart break.
Jul 3, 2021
Jul 3, 2021 at 7:49 AM UTC
I'm so lost at the moment.
I know this feeling will leave.
Feelings always move on,
they are temporary.
But how is it
we get so consumed in these feelings?
Our view of the world can change
the second our feelings do.
But there is beauty in that.
Freedom.
If we can let go of our bad feelings
and truly embrace the good;
we can change our world
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 7:12 AM UTC
You were my secret,
for a little while, anyway.
We would sit under that tree,
my hand cradling you
as you made my belly swell.
You made me feel at ease.
But you see my little one,
I was so **** scared. I’m only eighteen;
I didn’t have the stability for you that I should.
Still, you were mine.
I was going to protect you.
Give you everything I possibly could.
I would give my life,
I would give my soul,
just so you could have yours.
I would carry the pain of the world,
bear the markings of death,
if it meant you were at peace.
Your daddy and I weren’t ready.
You were a surprise,
oh my dear little one.
But we would have loved you,
I promise you.
You would be our little sun.
Did you have your daddy’s eyes?
Brown, loving, forever yearning.
Would they crinkle when you smile, like his?
Did you have your daddy's personality?
Mischievous, kind, confident.
Would you face the world head on, like he does?
I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry if I did something
that caused you to leave too soon.
My heart is forever broken.
It snapped into two,
Half of it wanting to stay here with your daddy,
And the other half craving the unspoken...
Do you like heaven my little one?
Is it beautiful and serene?
I hope you’re up there
playing with all the other babies
taken away too early.
I hope you’re happy, oh please hear my prayer.
I miss you.
Every day my heart screams,
grieving for who you would be.
You will always be in my thoughts.
My hands beg, again, for the feeling of you
while we sat under that tree.
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 6:01 PM UTC
She was drowning but nobody saw her struggle.
Why would they? She wouldn't let anyone see.
She built her walls to heaven and beyond
placing indestructible bricks so none could break through.
Not even God could peer through the roof she had constructed
She had forced herself a slave in a prison she made
Why should she burden others with the torment she deserves
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 7:10 AM UTC
It's been ten years yet you still linger
in every dark corner that my mind beholds
I wish I could be rid of you, of the scars that you left
I wish I could be rid of you, the nightmares that haunt me
It still feels like yesterday, your hand covering my mouth
I couldn't scream for help. Why did I ever trust you?
My wrists were bruised you held me that tight
I couldn't escape what you had planned to do
I was only eight, man, who could do that
to someone who was the same age as their sister?
You were like my brother. We grew up together
One day we were family, the next... you were my demon.
I kept my mouth shut, we lived next to each other
It'd be so much easier to pretend that everything was normal
That one time was the only time
you had left me alone, or so I thought
You see your sister, she was like my sister
she was my life, we played all day
So each day I came back to the house
the house with the demon that took my innocence
I was starting to believe I was safe again. I mean,
three years had past. We had become a family again
We played the wii and climbed trees together.
Everything was okay..until it wasn't
It happened again, and again, and again
Oh, I wished I never had trusted you
What did I do that made you do this
Surely this was my fault, right? I couldn't make you stop.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
You nibble on her neck
as your fingers follow the trail
of the curves of her body,
every inch of it craving you.
She had a weakness
for your hand on her throat,
your words in her heart
and your mouth on her lips.
None of which
she had the willpower
to refuse to you.
All your wishes,
her commands.
Everything you are,
her body craves.
Your souls dance to a song
of moans and lust.
Your bodies followed
with unimaginable infatuation.
"Mine."
You said.
"Yours."
She replied.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
Relationships:
******
***
Abused.
Love:
A war.
Things once sacred,
Lost their meaning.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
"I'm okay."
I say
to the reflection
in the mirror
nothing but the shell
of a person
no longer surviving
no longer living.
"I'm okay."
I repeat this again,
and again.
But each time
I say it
the sincerity
of those words
crumble.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:53 AM UTC
People are so dependant on social media.
It's kinda sad really.
They no longer communicate truely face-to-face.
But why should they?
In real life you have to be raw, make mistakes, experience pain...
while in their virtual worlds,
they can manipulate the perception in which others see.
On social media they could appear to be the most content person,
but in reality,
they use razors as a paint brush, their wrists the canvas.
Don't get me wrong,
people can easily hide behind masks and pretend to be okay,
but the isolation, the desolation,
that technology induces creates a cage around us.
Only, this cage is invisible.
We are not aware that we have become encaged,
until, the emptiness creeps up.
You feel as if you are completely alone in this world.
You look up and the the only thing you see is the light
that is produced by the screen of technology.
So instead of seeking help from those around you,
you glance back down at your screen,
searching for even a glimpse of validation,
something showing that you are doing something, anything right.
Just like a rope, the notifications you see pull you back in.
You have become so addicted to seeing how many people
have brought the perfectly constructed lie.
But the question is:
Can you find the truth,
or is it too far buried?
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 9:08 AM UTC