eve-emerald-allen
I've completely lost my fucking shit. / But I'm kinda funny sometimes. / But I'm also pretty pessimistic I suppose. / I'm young as fuck. / I'm an asshole. / I'm stuck in my own little bubble, so I really don't give a flying fuck about what anyone thinks. / Keep in mind I'm batshit crazy and likely to offend you.
Christ, I haven't been on here since just before I went to rehab. It's already been a year.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
Three.
Three times.
Three times, I've fallen for it.
Shame on me, for I am but an aimless fool.
Bumbling around, no sense of purpose, so sense of ground.
I should probably cut the **** huh?
Oh but you see, I'm so lost these days, I don't know where to begin.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC
Silenced.
I watch.
I remember this.
It's me- but not me.
Please let this dream end. It is a dream right?
Someone else threw the lampshade, someone else had an expensive habbit, someone else had all those bruises.
That's not me. It can't be.
It's a trick, someones just trying to convince me that, that person is me.
That face.
Those bruises.
No.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
There was a time when I craved knowledge.
I once thought it was a symbol of power.
I've come to learn, that it's all a lie.
Yeah, I could be doctor, yes I know I'm capable of it.
But I'd be in debt, and I wouldn't be happy.
So what would be the point?
In the end would you rather be intelligent and rich, or just happy but barely making do?
I think I chose the second.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 8:33 AM UTC
*I fell in love
with
The way you touched me...*
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
Your arms feel like home to me.
But I don't know where I'm going to be the next few weeks.
Certainly not where I want to be.
But where I need to be.
Leaving you feels like leaving home.
I know it's temporary, but it already feels like eternity
And I haven't even left yet.
I'd never seen you cry before last night.
It came as a shock.
"Happy 16th birthday, you're going to in patient."
I realize you don't know how to deal with things, because you're exactly like me.
I'm leaving for too long.
It scares me so much.
If you relapse, I don't know what I'm going to do.
Scream? Sob? Lose my mind?
I don't know.
The thought of another girl touching what's mine makes me feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust
And I know I won't stop burning.
"Do what is going to make you better, what's going to make you happy. I'm going to hate every second of it, but don't think of me in this decision."
Do you even realize what you're asking me to do?
You're asking me to choose between leaving the one person I've felt like I've known forever, and facing my own personal hell.
I know I'm never going to stop carrying this heavy load on my back that is my trauma if I don't leave.
But it is so. ******* Hard.
You weren't my first with a lot of things,
But you were the first of the important things.
First person I've cared about more than myself.
First person to stay and not give me some ******** excuse of "you're to ****** up for me".
The very first person that didn't leave the very second he got what he wanted out of me.
The first to not be manipulative, or mean, or abusive.
The first to encourage me to do something with my life other than sit in my room all day or party.
The first that encouraged me to get an education.
The first to want a future with me.
" I refuse to think that this is over. I know you'll be gone a long time, but we are not ******* over. Not by a long shot. We're not done."
Those words are my only comfort. The problem is, they're just words. One can say whatever he wants. Whether or not his words become reality will always be questioned until the day that they're not.
I've been dying a long time.
I fear that the maggots and worms writhing around beneath my skin will begin to eat at a faster pace.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
Your arms feel like home to me.
But I don't know where I'm going to be the next few weeks.
Certainly not where I want to be.
But where I need to be.
Leaving you feels like leaving home.
I know it's temporary, but it already feels like eternity
And I haven't even left yet.
I'd never seen you cry before last night.
It came as a shock.
"Happy 16th birthday, you're going to in patient."
I realize you don't know how to deal with things, because you're exactly like me.
I'm leaving for too long.
It scares me so much.
If you relapse, I don't know what I'm going to do.
Scream? Sob? Lose my mind?
I don't know.
The thought of another girl touching what's mine makes me feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust
And I know I won't stop burning.
"Do what is going to make you better, what's going to make you happy. I'm going to hate every second of it, but don't think of me in this decision."
Do you even realize what you're asking me to do?
You're asking me to choose between leaving the one person I've felt like I've known forever, and facing my own personal hell.
I know I'm never going to stop carrying this heavy load on my back that is my trauma if I don't leave.
But it is so. ******* Hard.
You weren't my first with a lot of things,
But you were the first of the important things.
First person I've cared about more than myself.
First person to stay and not give me some ******** excuse of "you're to ****** up for me".
The very first person that didn't leave the very second he got what he wanted out of me.
The first to not be manipulative, or mean, or abusive.
The first to encourage me to do something with my life other than sit in my room all day or party.
The first that encouraged me to get an education.
The first to want a future with me.
" I refuse to think that this is over. I know you'll be gone a long time, but we are not ******* over. Not by a long shot. We're not done."
Those words are my only comfort. The problem is, they're just words. One can say whatever he wants. Whether or not his words become reality will always be questioned until the day that they're not.
I've been dying a long time.
I fear that the maggots and worms writhing around beneath my skin will begin to eat at a faster pace.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
Fear is eating away at my stomach,
And dissolving my brain.
So much so that the ability to think straight, eat, sleep, have all become a challenge.
A toxic mixture of fear and confusion are what's eating at my brain now.
Hey, at least for once it's not the drugs right?
There are two of me.
One says, the optimistic one, that it'll all be okay, and to just go with this.
The other, well, she doesn't like the look of this.
One is all lovey dovey, and the other is so scared of being stabbed in the back that she'd rather just sit in my room all day and ignore the fact that he exists.
She's always saying that this one is smart, he's not like the predictable idiots from the past. He's actually proven this time and time again, so its not just an assumption that he's a genius. This makes him so much more charming, and he has so much to offer, but it also makes him incredibly unpredictable.
Now that, that is some unknown territory for the both of us.
It bugs them both so much that they can't simply read his mind like the others. That they can't predict his every move days, or even weeks beforehand.
I've come to terms with the fact that the optimistic one is a ******* She always falls for stupid games. The other, she's not so dim, but even she is teetering on the edge for once. Teetering between trusting, and running the **** away.
That is a first for her, she never faulters, ever.
I haven't listened or taken heed of her words in the past. It's always left me unhappy, alone, and feeling stupid. She's the practical one, the one the never listens to her emotions.
The ******* on the other hand? Emotions rule her every decision, she's a fool. Listening to her has never gotten me anywhere good.
For once I'm listening to the practical one, and for the first time, even she's baffled by this oddity.
One cares to much, the other, usually doesn't even care as to whether she or anyone else dies.
Even she worries about him.
He may be smart, but he's just as ****** up. Just as likely to do the things I would. Just as likely to be utterly unpredictable. That, is terrifying.
I may love someone one day, but if they decide to stab me in the back, I'll still love them. However, I'll never speak to them again, and whenever they're around a fire will start inside of me. That continuously burns until they're so uncomfortable they feel the need to leave.
I may love him, but trusting is an altogether different thing for me. It only takes one mistake to destroy it and never gain it back. I'm always on high alert, and I refuse to take chances.
I believe this is the only thing that will keep me safe, but at what cost?
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 8:18 AM UTC
You know it's bad town,
When it's easier for a sixteen year old,
to get her hands on ****
Rather than whiskey.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 6:34 PM UTC