She’s back and she’s lurking.
Schools out.
No work.
She’s now behind every corner in my house.
In closets.
Under my bed.
My house
Is supposed to be my safe space god ******!
I can’t sleep.
She whispers in my ear every time I drift off.
I can’t eat.
“You don’t need that!” she’d say.
I can’t leave.
“What if she finds you?” she’d ask.
She never leaves me alone.
She refuses,
Leaving me anxiety ridden.

My body is a temple I'm not used to sharing.
Don't ask to see it, it's putrid.
It's not a diamond.
Don't call me a princess or a queen because it's not what
you'll see when you see the naked version of me.
I have the marks from being happy and gaining weight.
Then losing everything, including the pounds
I gained loving her.
The scars from running and falling as a kid.
The scars from hating myself as a teenager.
The fat I still haven't lost from loving her.
Seems I'm only losing my muscle.
Losing my strength.
I have the big arms no one cares for.
My thighs love each other so much they never go a second
without touching.
And cellulite occurs like a migraine up and down them.
My stomach isn't as flat as the models are.
I have that pouch of now forbidden food.
You can't always see my collar bones
and my double chin appears when I lay down.
The bags swarm beneath my eyes like mosquitoes, as if my makeup was bug repellent.
My back has acne.
My chest isn't the prettiest. My ***** don't fall
the way that is cute and perky.
My fingers are short and they don't look good unless my nails are done and long.
My body isn't like anything you'd see in the magazines.
That shouldn't be an issue,
but I can't see anyone adoring it.

New love seems to be better than old love.
I feel as though I only say that because
I've never experienced
a good
old love.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, there has always
been something to ***** up all
of my chances.
Ex's.
Mistakes.
Hard decisions.
Belonging.
Self-pain.
All of these things and more have ruined my chance.
Actually, I wouldn't say ruined. My chance
came back and we are starting off slow this time.
By slow, I mean things are just
coming back naturally.
The way she looks at me gives me butterflies
The way she walks past and smiles just at me
The way she breathes when I'm laying on her chest
The way she says my name
and just the way the word beautiful slips out of her mouth towards me.
She's an imperfectly, perfect human being
and now that I have her, I wouldn't trade
her for the world.
Don't give up on your chance, for they might come
back and surprise you.

Love.
Love is so beautifully sweet,
but only if you let it.
If you let some twisted raging monster
into your life,
your depiction of love is morphed into
hate and longing.
Don't let that
monster in. They
will take your brain and pick
it into tiny little pieces
and slowly rewire it.
This way you will only listen
to them and do
as they say.

You will no longer have
a say in what your life consists of.
You will move where they move.
You will go to the party they want to.
You will go to their family events instead of yours.
You will leave your friends behind, unwillingly.
You will be down to one person.
And that person is the monster that was once so sweet to you.
The person that still is. The person that
you love so willingly,
but they never loved you.
You never noticed how much you've change.
You never got apologized to. They emotionally
attacked you day in and day out, and you're the one who overreacted. you're the one who apologized, yet you're the one who has the broken, torn apart heart.
You're family notices how different you've been, but don't say anything
until you do.
This relationship goes on for one year... two years... three... four...
You were done after the second year, but her manipulation
was so strong. You left and came back because they were going
to shoot themselves. Yet you've been self harming for years,
but they didn't care!
Don't be with this person. Don't fall into the hole.
Don't let it go on for too long, for you'll never be able to get out.
You're strong and loving and caring,
anyone would be so lucky to have you.
Don't
fall
for
the
twisted
raging
monster.

I hate when people ask me if I'm okay. What do I tell them? Am I okay? I think it's harder deciding whether you're okay or not than knowing what to say. No, I'm not sad, but am I happy? I laugh with other and I tell jokes. I seem happy, but I go home and I feel like I am a mess. Maybe I'm not put together correctly, and that's my problem. Maybe I need to put myself together. Find the missing pieces from all of the times I've been broken and restore them to their original places. I've learned over the years that other people can't do that for you. They're too busy trying to find their own pieces to worry about yours, so when you're constantly looking for happiness in others and find it nowhere... it's because you never thought to look for yourself. I love myself. I have confidence in what I look like, but I'm still learning to have confidence in who I am. I still worry that others may not like me and I'm still understanding why. But I know that once I figure out why, I won't need to worry anymore because it won't matter. In 10 years, nothing I do now is going to matter. You have to look on the bright side of things. You have to make life changing events, lessons and help those form your morals. You can be a wonderful person, all it takes is your outlook on life.