I think I'm beginning to know what it's like to live in my own body.
Instead of always projecting outwards and moving forwards,
I'm searching within.
I'm spiralling inside myself,
and loving how it feels.
I love the feeling of my muscles,
the pain in my knees,
and how often my back cracks.
I love the feeling of every square inch of this body.
I love how endless my mine feels.
Like a balloon that is ever-expanding.
Like a vapour that is constantly revealing
something new hidden in its mist.
I think I could stay here forever,
always learning something new,
always gaining more knowledge of this
unsolvable labyrinth I've been given.
I'm wandering it's twisting tunnels like
heroes of old.
But, instead of running from my monsters,
I'm running to them.
Embracing them.
Learning from them.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
They start small, the cracks.
So small you barely feel them.
But gradually,
they set in,
growing larger each day.
So the cracks are no longer cracks,
they're fissures,
then valleys,
until there are hundreds of
Marianas Trenches
criss-crossing your heart.
Your patch work is useless.
You can't tell their beginning from their end.
The only option left is to
live with them
and wonder
how your heart manages to beat,
how your lungs fill with air,
how your legs can still propel you forward
when you feel like you're
suspended in time.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Everything we have will
hollow out,
and the resulting
echo
will be a faint reminder of the
brilliance
of our past.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
I hate you for:
making me cry
making me cry 6 months later
making me cry with 2 words
making me smile with 2 words
making my world infinitely better with a hello
I hate you for:
saying that our whole relationship was based on ***
using me for ***
putting me in a place where I would let you use me for ***
I hate you for:
making me hate where I am
making me desperate for attention
making me do things I told myself I would never do
making me unhealthy
making me lose a part of myself
making me dependant on you
making me hate myself
I hate you for:
being so calm
being like stone
being like a drug
being on the peripherals of my mind, always
not being effected by this at all
I hate you for:
hating me
judging me
lying to me
calling me depressed
I hate you for:
treating me like a child
treating me like I'm fragile
treating me like a princess
I hate you for:
not leaving my head
not leaving me alone
not letting me breathe
not letting me get over you
I hate you for:
being perfect
being amazing
being exactly what I needed
I hate you for:
hating me
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
I realize now how hard it is to see through the dark stains that have tainted the past.
How difficult it is to remember how lifted I felt,
how utterly blissful,
how completely cared for.
The delicate words flowing from your fingertips soothed my soul.
Your light filled every crack in my body.
You made my glow.
You made every daunting task,
every mountain I knew I had to climb,
seem as easy as lifting a finger.
With you, I could've changed the sky.
Now, there is dark red pouring over every memory until they've been
completely, and unrecognizably distorted.
Now, they match my own alteration.
I wish I could've kept them the same:
unsaturated, and untouched.
Before, you kept me safe, warm and loved.
Then, you changed. You judged, hurt and broke.
Now, you do nothing.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
It's a slow process, being enveloped by the dark.
It creeps up on you.
You don't realize it's there until suddenly the panic overwhelms your senses.
You can't see your hand in front of your face.
You can't find your feet.
Or your breath.
You can't remember what made you smile or laugh.
It's all you can do to resist the pull.
You fight, you trash wildly.
But your punches have no place to land and your screams are
muted, absorbed, by the black.
So stuck in the struggle to not delve deeper,
you forget to try to pull yourself out.
Until, finally, you're numb. Unfeeling.
Because not feeling, not thinking, is the only way to survive.
In this place, you're alone with your thoughts, haunted by your demons.
There's no light to heal the wounds they inflict.
There is only the black mist surrounding you,
and the dull pound of your heartbeat in your ears.
The sound reminding you of what you're desperately clinging to;
your life.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
My eyes drip like a leaky faucet
that refuses to be fixed.
Continuously mourning
for something non-existent.
For something that has been
obliterated
by time.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
It's difficult to slow down when your body's used to constant movement.
Speeding up takes less than slowing down.
But you try, oh God, how you try.
You tentatively take a deep, shuddering breath and suddenly you're spiralling
out of control.
Down you go, into the deepest depths of your soul.
All because you stopped to breathe.
When breathing leads to this, who would want to breathe?
Instead, you force your way ahead, not daring to look back or even around.
Eyes glued to the horizon,
you don't stumble or falter.
Roses race past in a blur of red and white.
Barely recognizable, how could you think to
stop and smell?
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
She rides between light,
Slowly turning and dancing.
She shines through the cracks.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:34 PM UTC
Sick of food.
Sick of waiting.
Sick of boredom.
Sick of school.
Sick of people.
Sick of pain.
Sick of missing.
Sick of crying.
Sick of wishing, hoping, dreaming, dying.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC