I am done being measured by being without a man. I am so done with dating. I am getting to a point where - remembering their information?
Darling, show me you're here to stay first.
I am done remembering facts and whole pageturner conversations.
Effort?
I might put it in when I feel like it.
Dating is horrid. Spend weeks apping and talking and sharing and caring only to part after what, date two? Three?
No, I am done.
But yes, that is the paradox. I want love.
I want THAT adventure too.
But I am done begging god for love or for fate to find me a person.
I AM DONE BEING BUILT UP, WRECKED AND HAVING TO REBUILD AFTER SOME OX DECIDES TO TRY WITH ME. I am DONE with indecision. With coldness, with superiority, with children, with babies on the side, with leftovers.
Because that is what these men have tasted like to me. Leftovers.
And I am a ******* snack, a meal at a Michellin restaurant. A ************* well-rounded, thought through, social, creative and sportive prize.
So who the **** are you to bring me down.
Jun 6, 2022
Jun 6, 2022 at 11:16 PM UTC
Odd how a state of stress becomes permanent
It feels like it is buried
in a glacier
as is our lost time
And while spring thaws away at nature
we stay frozen in our homes
Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 1:28 PM UTC
It is in my school
Drawing nearer on soft paws
Raking its claws against the door
Breath clouding into the ear
It is nearing.
It is in my hallway
Hiding beneath helpless faces
Asking to come close to show me
Burrowing beneath kind smiles
It is nearing.
It is in my classroom
Good friends touching arms innocently
Touching the digiboard on the way out
Running past me in a dooropening
It is nearing.
It is nearing.
And all I can do is wait.
Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 1:26 PM UTC
The strangest and most irascible part
Of breaking up with someone
Is that the amount of pain it brings
Is something you feel you can only survive
While being in their arms.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC
Niets in mijn leven gaat goed
Maar ja,
Daar is ook weer een soort rust in
Want ja,
Het gaat dus nooit echt goed.
Dus als je het je afvraagt:
Niets gaat ooit echt goed
Een antwoord waar je het maar mee doet
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC
Mag ik nog even bij je blijven?
Al is het in gedachten
Over *** het ooit wel goed komt
Over *** we het nog eens proberen
Mag ik nog even bij je blijven?
Al is het alleen fysiek
Met je armen om me heen is het goed
Met je lippen op mijn voorhoofd troost je mij
Mag ik nog even bij je blijven?
Al is het maar een seconde
De gedachte dat het jou uitmaakt helpt
De gedachtw dat je mij ook mist doet dan minder pijn
Mag ik nog even bij je blijven?
Al is het in gedachtes
Waar ik kastelen voor ons bouw met hoop
Waar ik net wilskracht alles manipuleer
Mag ik nog heel even bij je blijven?
Zonder jou doet de wereld nog zo'n pijn
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
En ik vrees elke dag die nog komt zonder je,
Omdat ik je nu al zo erg mis.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 6:42 PM UTC
If I had to compare you to anything at all,
Really, Oxygen would be my first call.
They say it makes us sure and carefree,
Yet it heats the body and calms it too.
So if I had to pick a thing for you to be,
I imagine you are my own O two.
Here’s how my mind fathoms you in its roll,
Here’s how I think you take your toll.
I need you and You need me,
I use you to hear, understand, see.
When you are near I concur to happiness,
When too close I edge towards madness,
More often than not it comes to the latter,
But in short, to me, you matter.
So you see, I need you in any possible way,
Like O two, you captivate me every second of the day,
When you are gone I shake with yearning,
When you are near my heart is burning.
Therefore, should you ever have a doubt,
Know that without you,
I would not hold out.
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
Maybe it was a sugarspun fairytale. One that melts on your tongue before you ever experience it.
Maybe they thought it was harmless.
Maybe it was a castle in the sky. A castle in the clouds and they figured if they made it high enough, I would never reach. That if they took my wings, not even my thoughts would soar.
Maybe they thought it was harmless.
Maybe it was a paper dream that they lit up as soon as they had shown me. Or a Fata Morgana, gone as soon as I touched it.
Maybe the fates did not mean to be cruel.
But then again,
only beasts play with prey.
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC