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beautifulbrod
beautifulbrod
25/F I'm just a girl,formulating the honest trials and tribulations we all face into text. I'm heavily in pursuit of true happiness--I've nixed surviving,why not live?
I feel myself sinking today. These positive affirmations helped yesterday And the day before And the day before Not today. Today I'm overthinking Today I'm having to employ CYA left & right. Today I'm reminded of my shortcomings. Just another day, it won't matter. It won't matter. I tell myself it won't matter. But it does right now. And I can't cry today. I can't get mad today. Am I sad? I don't know what I am. I guess I'm numb today. I don't think a drink will help. I can't find the voice to speak about it. I don't think a break from work will suffice. I'm numb today. So full of complaints Yet depleted of conflict resolution. Is this the pressure diamonds endure ? Is this what will strengthen me? Is that what this is ? Should I be thankful for this? Optimistic about it? I don't know. Today is just, not the day.
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Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
Not today.
What is this Joyride you're taking? Happy suns and pleasant night Freedom reigning, joy,joy What is this? This reign that makes me reign Is not the rain that made me rain So I question it's validity It's derivation? A problem. Maybe it's a problem. Maybe it's a scream Maybe this Joyride Is running on thoughts of deliverance Echos of finality The wonders of the absolute. This reign? That rain? That shine That shine That smudge I see a smudge in it This smudge? Am I overthinking again? Is this subconscious anxiety? My reign ? My rain? My wants, my wants are delivered They are delivered And this is first class deliverance From an economy sender Am I wrong To question it's origins? Am I wrong, To wonder ? To see what you believed a ghost I've seen him I see him It's possessed you That reign Or was it the rain That held your spirit all along? How much does it cost,this possession? Is it free ? Or are you making your last payment? Is this your down payment? What do you owe ? Do you owe? Did it owe you? This reign, Or that rain ? I kneel for rain For hopes of its previous passing And this spectrum Is 3 dimensional I kneel for reign And it's longevity In you I clasp for it I bow to it.
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
Its not free.
For every apology you've given me, You deserve it ten times over. For every ear you've lent me, You deserve my full attention. You've hurt me. You've really hurt me. You've made me feel so small, And yet,in this moment I feel huge. I feel like, This huge weight on your shoulders. And I feel blind, I feel deaf. As though, All of your efforts have been in vain,or something. And I don't see them, I don't hear them. And yet,I'm 2 inches away. For every sorry I've given you,please multiply them by 20. I've made mistakes too, you're not alone. Why do I make you feel so alone? I nag, and I complain,and I yell, and I know how small you feel. I claim to do so much, What b.s. On this toxic throne, Is nothing but my projection, and denial. I know you're thinking of this as a mistake, That I should never blame myself That it's you, That it's only,you. But please,multiply my apologies by 20. Because I do have a part. Yes,I do. I play a role. And I remind myself, Of him sometimes. And I cry because, I mean shit,he was mentally draining at times. And now I'm draining. How much do you have to take from me, For me to understand how sorry you are? I Judge you I belittle you I emotionally scar you. Yes, yes I do. Stop saying I don't. It doesn't matter if you're deserving of any of it. The magnitude to which I take things, Is the role I play. I am part of the reason, Why your poems are of raven days. I am part of the reason, Why you feel, Stuck in your ways. I tell you, You can't escape. That your home, Is not an escape. That I, Am not an escape. Then I ask how I can help. In the same breath. The irony. For every sorry, Multiply them by zero. Delete them from your memory. And please accept this one. I love you. I love that you've stayed. I love that,despite my roles, you've succeeded in making me think that I had none, Until now. Jesus I see it in your face, I hear the eggshells beneath your steps I love how literally, I just need a touch from you I love how literally, your eyes melt me. Yep,they still do that.6 years can't change that feeling. I love,everything. And I mean that. And I'm so,sincerely sorry, For subconsciously making you pay. For consciously belittling you. For being my own double standard. I'm severely sorry.
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Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
For Every Sorry
For every apology you've given me, You deserve it ten times over. For every ear you've lent me, You deserve my full attention. You've hurt me. You've really hurt me. You've made me feel so small, And yet,in this moment I feel huge. I feel like, This huge weight on your shoulders. And I feel blind, I feel deaf. As though, All of your efforts have been in vain,or something. And I don't see them, I don't hear them. And yet,I'm 2 inches away. For every sorry I've given you,please multiply them by 20. I've made mistakes too, you're not alone. Why do I make you feel so alone? I nag, and I complain,and I yell, and I know how small you feel. I claim to do so much, What b.s. On this toxic throne, Is nothing but my projection, and denial. I know you're thinking of this as a mistake, That I should never blame myself That it's you, That it's only,you. But please,multiply my apologies by 20. Because I do have a part. Yes,I do. I play a role. And I remind myself, Of him sometimes. And I cry because, I mean shit,he was mentally draining at times. And now I'm draining. How much do you have to take from me, For me to understand how sorry you are? I Judge you I belittle you I emotionally scar you. Yes, yes I do. Stop saying I don't. It doesn't matter if you're deserving of any of it. The magnitude to which I take things, Is the role I play. I am part of the reason, Why your poems are of raven days. I am part of the reason, Why you feel, Stuck in your ways. I tell you, You can't escape. That your home, Is not an escape. That I, Am not an escape. Then I ask how I can help. In the same breath. The irony. For every sorry, Multiply them by zero. Delete them from your memory. And please accept this one. I love you. I love that you've stayed. I love that,despite my roles, you've succeeded in making me think that I had none, Until now. Jesus I see it in your face, I hear the eggshells beneath your steps I love how literally, I just need a touch from you I love how literally, your eyes melt me. Yep,they still do that.6 years can't change that feeling. I love,everything. And I mean that. And I'm so,sincerely sorry, For subconsciously making you pay. For consciously belittling you. For being my own double standard. I'm severely sorry.
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82
I feel like a bad person. Ya know, the bystander type. The, "they're just words" type. The,"you'll only be nagging"type. What do you do, When you see an adult Intelligent, wise beyond their years Literate, articulate But four feet tall Swimming in the 5ft section of the pool? I mean, they're strong too. Do you let them swim? Do you risk it? ARE you risking anything? I mean they know what they're doing right ? Literate, articulate. They know right? Right ? And if you've let them swim With tightened lips And a forced smile at times How many times do you let them, Before you tell them to come back? Literate, articulate,strong. Will they even listen ? Arrogant. Stubborn. If you don't speak, is it because you don't care? Afraid. Nagging. Are you in denial? Afraid, Nagging. But that voice in the back of your head, screaming to ****** that person out the pool, is it right ? Afraid. Im afraid sometimes. I see the head above the water, but just barely. I see the feet kicking, but just barely. I hear breathing, but just barely. And I know. I know why they're tired. I hear it, I see it, I read it. And you've been swimming Forever. Im afraid, That if you were to drown I helped it, By being the bystander. And yet I know better. Literate, articulate, Afraid. How many times Will I allow you to swim in the 5ft section of the pool When I know You're only 4ft tall.
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Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC
Just keep swimming..
I'm not blind. I see you, And as you look deep within yourself Explaining yourself I can't help but wonder How you miss so much In your explanations. How can I See your entirety Yet you See pieces? It's not just the contrast Of your hair Against your skin It's not just the muscles Or your chilling smile It's not just the shape of your eyes Or the *** appeal in your voice It's not just your touch Or what those things lead to... It's the way you sleep. Despite your troubles, You sleep so sound. So peacefully, Like you're strong enough to repair those troubles at night And resilient enough to get through another day. It's the way you laugh As though Despite those things You hate about yourself You can still find humor And allow yourself A piece of humanity. It's the way you cry How you still have those emotions You claim were lost in your storm You still rain, You still allow yourself That rain. It's the way you turn your head a few times to and from, when you feel that jolt of emotion Whether it be before *** Or in a conversation In which you're losing. It's cute,really, To see your barriers come down Even for just a moment. It's the emotion I wholly feel In your kiss. It's like, I know you cherish it As much as I And match me. You see me as some damsel In distress with you. As though you're not enough Like I could seek another Like I should seek another. As though I'm never gonna make it With you. But I need someone who struggled I need your demons I need your sorrows. I don't want, or need A seemingly perfect man. I need someone Who understands what it's like To survive Whilst trying to live. I need someone Whom shows me Those pieces of him While he's sleep While he laughs While he kisses me. I need someone who battles with this life from time to time Yet makes it. I need a warrior. I need a king. And no, I don't need someone to fix. I need someone I can relate to. Someone to grow with, You. I'm not blind. I see you. I watch you everyday, and I'm proud of you. In case you haven't heard it yet, Your past has made you a Phoenix. Your current struggles Have made you a role model. And yes, You make it look **** You think I'm blind. Blind in love. Blindly following, Blindly Falling. Have you ever thought That maybe, You're blind? That maybe, I could be right, And you, sir, Are trying to blind me? I know what I see. But do you? Who's really blind?
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Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
Im not blind
I'm not blind. I see you, And as you look deep within yourself Explaining yourself I can't help but wonder How you miss so much In your explanations. How can I See your entirety Yet you See pieces? It's not just the contrast Of your hair Against your skin It's not just the muscles Or your chilling smile It's not just the shape of your eyes Or the *** appeal in your voice It's not just your touch Or what those things lead to... It's the way you sleep. Despite your troubles, You sleep so sound. So peacefully, Like you're strong enough to repair those troubles at night And resilient enough to get through another day. It's the way you laugh As though Despite those things You hate about yourself You can still find humor And allow yourself A piece of humanity. It's the way you cry How you still have those emotions You claim were lost in your storm You still rain, You still allow yourself That rain. It's the way you turn your head a few times to and from, when you feel that jolt of emotion Whether it be before *** Or in a conversation In which you're losing. It's cute,really, To see your barriers come down Even for just a moment. It's the emotion I wholly feel In your kiss. It's like, I know you cherish it As much as I And match me. You see me as some damsel In distress with you. As though you're not enough Like I could seek another Like I should seek another. As though I'm never gonna make it With you. But I need someone who struggled I need your demons I need your sorrows. I don't want, or need A seemingly perfect man. I need someone Who understands what it's like To survive Whilst trying to live. I need someone Whom shows me Those pieces of him While he's sleep While he laughs While he kisses me. I need someone who battles with this life from time to time Yet makes it. I need a warrior. I need a king. And no, I don't need someone to fix. I need someone I can relate to. Someone to grow with, You. I'm not blind. I see you. I watch you everyday, and I'm proud of you. In case you haven't heard it yet, Your past has made you a Phoenix. Your current struggles Have made you a role model. And yes, You make it look **** You think I'm blind. Blind in love. Blindly following, Blindly Falling. Have you ever thought That maybe, You're blind? That maybe, I could be right, And you, sir, Are trying to blind me? I know what I see. But do you? Who's really blind?
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108
I really don't know who to talk to. Really, I don't. I've found such happiness, Whilst remaining humble And haven't stressed like I used to, Or taken things to heart as much... Yet as I stare into the mirror, I don't like what I see. I don't care about How pretty my features are I don't care about My modeleque height Or my warm smile Those things, I was born with. Thank God I'm happy with them, It's not like I could change them But I do care about What I've done to myself. Those things I did have control over, and lost control. I'm too soft, everywhere. My sides are too fat My stomach isn't as flat I'm unhappy with my body. And sure, I'm not huge. But I didn't gain weight in the right places. To look over old photos Or know the preferences of those closest to me, Begs tears, and utter disappointment. And I don't want to sound like any other girl All the blah blah blahs But I'm unhappy with my body. I work hard, I pay my bills. I help people, I'm doing well in school. And I've added this gym routine on top of it. And while I've created my own schedule, therefore I'm not complaining, Its hurtful That I have no one to talk to. My family and friends will simply wave this away, as I'm not huge. Those other parties closest to me won't say much at all. I guess, I just wish someone would wholly and truly tell me I'm beautiful. That someone would want me not just for what part in *** I play But FOR those things I dislike about myself. And voice that. I'm not looking for someone to cure me And I realize what I must do to change, but **** I don't think I'm supposed to feel like this. I think someone is supposed to validate me to an extent Atleast that's what I do with those I care about, when I see they're in a low spot for a moment. Don't we all need to hear that from time to time? Well, I don't ever hear it. Unless I begin the conversation there in. I gained weight, I'm not happy about it, I'm making a change, and no one has said, "you're beautiful." Without me **** near fishing. It hurts. And I don't know who to talk to. Or what to do, but to continue dealing alone. As I have been. I just want to love myself as much as I love my life I just want to keep being happy I just want to love myself. And not be surrounded by so many people Yet feel so alone. I don't know who to talk to.
0
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 5:11 PM UTC
I dont know...
I really don't know who to talk to. Really, I don't. I've found such happiness, Whilst remaining humble And haven't stressed like I used to, Or taken things to heart as much... Yet as I stare into the mirror, I don't like what I see. I don't care about How pretty my features are I don't care about My modeleque height Or my warm smile Those things, I was born with. Thank God I'm happy with them, It's not like I could change them But I do care about What I've done to myself. Those things I did have control over, and lost control. I'm too soft, everywhere. My sides are too fat My stomach isn't as flat I'm unhappy with my body. And sure, I'm not huge. But I didn't gain weight in the right places. To look over old photos Or know the preferences of those closest to me, Begs tears, and utter disappointment. And I don't want to sound like any other girl All the blah blah blahs But I'm unhappy with my body. I work hard, I pay my bills. I help people, I'm doing well in school. And I've added this gym routine on top of it. And while I've created my own schedule, therefore I'm not complaining, Its hurtful That I have no one to talk to. My family and friends will simply wave this away, as I'm not huge. Those other parties closest to me won't say much at all. I guess, I just wish someone would wholly and truly tell me I'm beautiful. That someone would want me not just for what part in *** I play But FOR those things I dislike about myself. And voice that. I'm not looking for someone to cure me And I realize what I must do to change, but **** I don't think I'm supposed to feel like this. I think someone is supposed to validate me to an extent Atleast that's what I do with those I care about, when I see they're in a low spot for a moment. Don't we all need to hear that from time to time? Well, I don't ever hear it. Unless I begin the conversation there in. I gained weight, I'm not happy about it, I'm making a change, and no one has said, "you're beautiful." Without me **** near fishing. It hurts. And I don't know who to talk to. Or what to do, but to continue dealing alone. As I have been. I just want to love myself as much as I love my life I just want to keep being happy I just want to love myself. And not be surrounded by so many people Yet feel so alone. I don't know who to talk to.
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66
****** fingers type away Searching through opportunities To better my household. To better myself. Ad after ad Application after application Broken promises A weakened heart. ****** fingers type away Submission after submission Racing onward Yet standing still. Broken shoes Dehydration Hunger Struggling to take the next step But forcing myself. ****** fingers type away I don't want to drown I don't want you to drown,either These fears, the fear of losing everything This stress,the stress of having nothing These duties,the duty to my sick kin the fear of losing her Since my father is already gone. My heart is crying I'm screaming My fingers are tired I'm tired. But something is telling me to keep fighting. My God is telling me to encourage myself. To realize this is temporary To realize my potential To never give in To use my head It's a small,dim light. But I see it. My head may be spinning My feet may be bruised My heart may ache And my fingers may be ****** But nothing is placed on my shoulders that I cannot bear. I have made correct decisions. I am worthy. I can do it. And will lose nothing.
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Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
****** fingers
I wish I could stop. I'm getting better Alot better,actually. So much so I'm questioning typing this. My audience may not be as understanding as I. But if you all can be raw Without fear of reprimand For your thoughts are your thoughts And your feelings are your feelings Why should I fear? I need to get this out. I have triggers now. More triggers,great. Once upon a time Those triggers were normal For us millenials. A door slamming. Yelling. **** men. Now, It's scales. Something I'd never feared. It's the mirror. Something I'd never wanted to break. It's the the feeling I get Right before I strap on My running shoes. The feeling of being trapped Into doing something I 'd rather not Yet feel forced to. It's innocent comments Innocent questions That while I was never huge And matter-of-factly shrinking Take me back to the mirror To question any ounce Anything extra. It's clothes I have so many clothes. And I hate the vast majority. They don't camouflage. They don't blend. They open the door for triggers. It's makeup Something I used to love For years That now I question. I wonder if it's to play with my features Or to over-compensate for something I now know I don't have. This has taken me over: These triggers. And all it took Was one response to a question I'd asked. One comment that acted on senior triggers So much so that it created new ones. It's funny how the mind works. I'm not mad. I'm really not sad, either. And I eat I told you all I'm getting better. I'm just a girl Seeking an attainable goal Who unfortunately Until then Will have this looming In the back of her mind. And almost everyday I wish I never would've asked that question. I'm sick of loving myself Conditionally. I want makeup to only be For ***** and giggles. I don't want to hide In clothes anymore And when I'm not hiding I don't want to question my choices. I want numbers To simply be numbers Not those individualizing A jail cell. I want comments To slide off my back Not slide to the dark corner of my mind Where I place those things I don't want to remember; Into my subconscious,you could say. I want to be wholly happy with myself and with the things I used to love. Emphasize,don't sympathize. I promise I'm fine. But isn't this a place of raw honesty? Where even the fine can place their subconscious in text? Until then,I guess. I'm just a girl.
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Tanks
I wish I could stop. I'm getting better Alot better,actually. So much so I'm questioning typing this. My audience may not be as understanding as I. But if you all can be raw Without fear of reprimand For your thoughts are your thoughts And your feelings are your feelings Why should I fear? I need to get this out. I have triggers now. More triggers,great. Once upon a time Those triggers were normal For us millenials. A door slamming. Yelling. **** men. Now, It's scales. Something I'd never feared. It's the mirror. Something I'd never wanted to break. It's the the feeling I get Right before I strap on My running shoes. The feeling of being trapped Into doing something I 'd rather not Yet feel forced to. It's innocent comments Innocent questions That while I was never huge And matter-of-factly shrinking Take me back to the mirror To question any ounce Anything extra. It's clothes I have so many clothes. And I hate the vast majority. They don't camouflage. They don't blend. They open the door for triggers. It's makeup Something I used to love For years That now I question. I wonder if it's to play with my features Or to over-compensate for something I now know I don't have. This has taken me over: These triggers. And all it took Was one response to a question I'd asked. One comment that acted on senior triggers So much so that it created new ones. It's funny how the mind works. I'm not mad. I'm really not sad, either. And I eat I told you all I'm getting better. I'm just a girl Seeking an attainable goal Who unfortunately Until then Will have this looming In the back of her mind. And almost everyday I wish I never would've asked that question. I'm sick of loving myself Conditionally. I want makeup to only be For ***** and giggles. I don't want to hide In clothes anymore And when I'm not hiding I don't want to question my choices. I want numbers To simply be numbers Not those individualizing A jail cell. I want comments To slide off my back Not slide to the dark corner of my mind Where I place those things I don't want to remember; Into my subconscious,you could say. I want to be wholly happy with myself and with the things I used to love. Emphasize,don't sympathize. I promise I'm fine. But isn't this a place of raw honesty? Where even the fine can place their subconscious in text? Until then,I guess. I'm just a girl.
Continue reading...
100
At times I wish I didn't have this power The power to see inside your head To pick apart your truest self To analyze To overanalyze. To question, I ask too many questions. Like, Is he sure that's just a childish crush? Simple butterflies? How complex are the butterflies really? I see them soaring around you And I see you Shooing them away As though no ones watching . Is this smile Forreal? I think it is I'm pretty sure my joke was funny. I think I hugged him a million times over But my super power says otherwise. Sometimes it says you're drowning Sometimes it says you're on fire. And sometimes, It says you feel nothing at all. I fear this is a curse To read your grey To read your mind And still Feel so clueless.
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 12:31 PM UTC
Plague
You see my petals And yes,they're beautiful. Their scarlet clusters Their succulent aroma Stand out amongst the others My dew dropped leaves Acting as the perfect embellishments As though I wear the rain As a crown. I am a rose, As you can see. But do you not see The dried earth beneath me? Have you not noticed The snakes round my stalk? The shade atop my petals? I am a rose, But I have thorns. You see petals, Breathtaking  petals, I see the improbable, Made possible. I see a rose,dying to live. Dying to survive. It's roots feverishly searching for wet soil In the midst of forgotten dust. You see dew dropped leaves, I see a wall. I see storms brewing Yet the rose Refuses to inhale it's waters And so they sit On her beautifully made petals. You see a red,ravishing rose, I see open scars, For the public's eye. Open,for you. I found those patches of soil I let the rain sit on my petals I bled myself red But didn't you know, You lit my garden? Haven't you noticed, The dew on my leaves, Evaporating? Didn't you realize My red Has slowly began fading? Haven't you noticed The snakes round my stalk And the spiders and the ants Slowly find refuge elsewhere Refuge away from your glare? My love. My world. My life. You see me as the rose, Didn't you know, You are the sun.
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
929,600,000 miles