you were so used to hiding everything
from everyone,
you didn't know what to do
once someone knew all your secrets.

They do not tell you how awful sadness is.
When they romanticize heartbreak and romanticize depression,
they just forgot to mention that it is actually really, really terrible.
And all the little girls grow up wanting to fall
and fall and fall until they spend their nights crying and lonely
because the movies and the books,
they all made it look so meaningful and pretty
and grown up.
They do not tell you how it just sits like a knot in your stomach
and sometimes makes you feel sick
and sometimes feels like all the fallen tears took your soul with them.
They just show you it happens and they tell you it’s supposed to.
All the little girls grew up and fell
and got their hearts broken for it
and found out it’s pointless and ugly
and juvenile
and it hurts.
They find out how awful it is and they do very much wonder why nobody ever told them. They wonder if they just didn’t listen. They wonder if it’s their fault
and they feel stupid.

why do you have to be sad before you appreciate happy? why does that burning inspiration only come when you are in darkness? why do I fill pages while a knot of sadness sits in my stomach? why do the urges to pour out feelings no longer come while I am enjoying my time, myself, my love? why does happiness stomp out creativity like a cigarette in an ashtray and sadness lights it back up with some addictive flame? yes… the sadness might make you sink low, low, low, but that’s where the passion is. when you are low and you don’t understand, you either write about it, draw it out, paint it into vision, you express it in some way, or you **** yourself. you have to do something with all those raw feelings. what about happiness though? happiness is so bright and special, why don’t I want or need to express that? is my happy less than everyone else’s? why are things so right when I’m so broken? I only understand myself in sadness. happiness makes me question everything. sadness feels like being in love. are those the only two things I can really feel? sadness and love?… the only times I feel alive, the only times I feel like me are when I have something to write about, something to consume me in 4am thoughts, something that makes it all so real, to make me need to get it out and appreciate the intensity in another form.

I’m doing fine without you.
Everyone said it and everyone was so sure
and everyone was right because
I can go whole hours and days without thinking of you. I never thought I would be able to do that.
I’m doing fine without you,
and I hope you’re fine, too.
I’d say sorry but neither of us are. I’d say I miss you but I don’t.
You’d say you hate me but you probably don’t care enough anymore.
Hate is exhausting, I know.
I’m doing fine without you.
It’ll be a year in July since I found someone better.
And it’ll be two in August since we ruined everything.
Bout five since I didn’t know who you were,
so about five since I was happiest.
But I’m happy again.
I’m doing fine without you.

I am emotional and emotionless. I love myself, I hate myself. I am happy, I am sad. I am so so sad. I want to get married. I hate the thought of it. I would love to have a baby with you. That’s a horrible idea. Maybe I should end this, I want this to last forever. Don’t ever leave me, I don’t need you. I feel great, everything hurts. Everything.. hurts. I want to die, waste of life. I want to die, I want to stay. I want to die, I’ll be here for you. I want to be your everything, I can’t handle that. I can’t sleep, I’m so tired. I need help, no I don’t, I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m falling apart. I’m not okay, can’t tell. Terrified of truth, it’s ripping my insides out.
and
I hurt.

you are a stupid girl with a loaded gun in your chest

you never sleep, you never rest.

i swear you know the way home

and you swear you don’t

everything broke right before your eyes

your smile fell and so did you,

but i didn’t want to fight.

you handed me your heart and said

hold it to the light

they stole many pieces of me.

i thought of what a sight you must have been

young and innocent and whole.

i cried for you, i cried so hard

for what you used to be,

i'm sitting alone in the dark again,

because you never cried for me.

So many thoughts, even beautiful ones
lost over the day.
They'll come and I'll smile and think
"I should write that down."
But I never do.
Maybe it's poetic.