Now
I know
Its alright
Its fine
To be alone
To be on my own
Done wasting my time
Now its time to make it my own

I have never met perfection, for I was told that no one was perfect.

Then I met you.

Time is a concept in our minds,
it is not reality.
It is not who we are.
time is something that we can not base ourselves off.

Yet what are we surrounded by?
Time.
Are we early?
Are we on time?
Are we late?
I hate it.

Its anxiety riddled.
It brings anger.
It brings stress.
It bring exhaustion.
It brings all these things
That are full of hate.
But there’s one aspect
That time brings.
It is riddled with my hate.

Change.

For as long as I believe in time,
Change is bound to come with the ticking and turning of the clock.
Tick - a second gone by.
Tock - another second gone.
Slowly but surely till years have gone by,
And now all i can feel is despair.

If everyone on Earth stopped believing in time,
Maybe then change wouldn’t come to me.
It wouldn’t affect how I feel.
It wouldn’t affect how I look.
Time is just a human construct after all.

When did she
become
just another girl
who
I used to
know?

Maintaining control
is the stage where the predator
will do anything to keep his victim
a victim
He sits on the couch
With his arm slung over you
His breath is sour with alcohol
And cruelty
Knowing that he has power over you
There will be no changing the story
The story that contains
Both you and him
Is not your and his story
It is only his, and it will only ever be his
Because of him, you have been completely and utterly
Diminished