It’s gotten bad

Not bad as in this feeling will pass

Bad as in not caring if I crash my car and don’t survive 

At least it’ll be an excuse for dying 

I imagine what my funeral would look like 

Hope mom would know Id want daisies, sufjan Stevens playing and my face looking the same way it did in everyday life

Vanity still exists in death 

Dad used to have his up and down days 

He still does 

The way to survive?

Lock in all up in the imaginary vault you hold in yourself

Hold all the negative thoughts

anger

sadness 

Hold em hostage

Don’t let them see the light

The one flaw in his plan was the outbursts he’d have from the demons escaping for a little while

Wouldn’t happen for a month

few weeks

two weeks

few days

everyday

Sometimes I think some of them escaped him and found their way into me and that’s why I have an unjustified anger blooming in my aching chest that I can’t silence 

It’s no excuse for what I say when I lose control 

When my apologies reach the thousands to the point where they don’t matter 

I’m sorry

That I can’t make up my mind

That I can’t do what’s best for me

That I do things to hurt myself

That I think I deserve pain

That I can’t stop saying sorry

I need to stop feeling sorry

I take my coffee piled with sweetener and syrup because everything about me is
bitter bitter bitter 

The thoughts in my mind to the movement of my toes, I just want to kick that ** 

God only knows

Eleven cavities, reason being hereditary

Bitterness has trampled through my bones, blood, veins 

Fighting for the day when I let it come out and play 

Bitter bitter bitter

Shut it all in till I have nothing left to say 

Yet everything to say

With no reason to stay 

Numbness has gone away leaving an onslaught of shame in its wake 

If only I didn’t feel the need to stay awake

Play this lifeless game

Where my heart always gets in the way

I want to go home but I’ve never really had one 

Home has always been a wasted place full of lies and burdens, talking yet never listening 

When the time comes to leave I’ll only remember how I placed home in a body that couldn’t love the preciousness In a goodbye, the awakening in a hello

When my problems become unbearable I tend to make myself out to be the righteous one, the innocent one

I didn’t want to kiss him, didn’t want to do anything with him yet I still took those steps

The alcohol helped but the clarity through the haziness should’ve halted me 

The process begins with an internal emotional breakdown, mind goes numb, fingers tingle and the heart races 

Thoughts point to “it’s already ****** so why not **** it up more?”

I just want it to hurt, feel the pain I deserve for what I’ve done 

Pleasure doesn’t phase me anymore 

My mind is so delusional these days that I can’t tell what is wrong or right, if I’m making up the issues in my head. Subconsciously Exaggerating them for my personal advantage 

Which is why I always go back 
Back to the lies, lack of love, hardness, tight grips and hateful kisses 

Does he find weak minded girls because he knows they’ll never have the strength to leave? 

Stuck thinking this is love, rough and hatefully passionate but never soft 

Take me, take everything I have, mind and body, do whatever you want to it 

Because I’ve been taught love is giving, giving everything you have until you have nothing 

Take my dignity and pleasure

Leave me with bruises, shame and a numbness that courses through my every cell 

it means he cares

As I go through all my past poems I realize my heart never listened to my mind and it never will

Everything written about him is littered with the signs of emotional abuse yet I can never escape 

Breaks my heart and tells me he doesn’t love me yet I still hold him and wipe his tears as he cries

Each tear dripping down his face reminded me of each girl he talked to

I wanted to be appalled by his touch, his eyes, the overgrown scruff on his chin

But I wasn’t 

Begged him to hold me, begged him to stop the ******* car, Screaming fits that shook the Window
s
Begged him to kiss me and hold me on his lap

I wondered if I was always looking into the eyes of a sociopath, if I lied to myself about it the entire time

A year and a half

A year and half wasted built on lies screamed right at my face

I just want to be loved 

Yet I walked right into the hands of a man that wasn’t capable of ever loving anyone or anything

I gave him everything in me, every single inch of myself

Stayed in shape, lost friends, isolated myself, did whatever he asked me to whenever for fear of him getting angry 

I wasn’t enough 

The worthlessness I feel drips from my eyes and mouth, a constant feeling of Nausea stuck in the back of my throat 

Now I’ve got a reason to despise the holidays just like my father does

Couldn’t have asked for a better present 

Merry Christmas to me

I want my love to swallow him

I want my love to be all he wants to think of and all he wants to know

I want him to think of me
To love me when the sun goes
I want him to be blind with only me in his eyes

I want him to think of me when he’s lying in bed
Every waking thought should be of me

Unless he were to be dead

I want to be a river, one with no end

When the days turn into waves I want to be the one he saves

I want to be a tsunami
A force needing to be seen

When the calm arrives and the storm leaves I want to be the sea
I have a thirsting need to be seen
To be remembered and obsessed

When the time comes to leave I go without a mess
He will be fuming 

I will leave him as a bird without a nest

For he is the one that needs me

But I don’t need him

“I can’t let you go” drips from his leering lips to his weary woes

Drip 

The sound of his affection swallowing you whole

Click

The sound of the lock bounding your sinking soul

Wishing to let him go 

Never saying no

Wondering why everyone says you’re a spineless droll

Leaving would make a lifeless show

Picking up the trash pieces everyone has thrown 

Bring out the basket, throw away the bile

Isn’t love just vile

It felt like those steps in main hall 

Crumbling, cracked and caving in from the weight of the soles over the years

Burdens were knifes to the heart

The guilt and remorse enveloping your already numb, almost gone conscious
You wonder when you started feeling like a graveyard full of emerging corpses

The putrid smell was what gave them away

You check before you leave to see him if the clean cotton scent is still lingering on your skin 

You douse more of your lavender perfume on to cover it up

Dabbing at the same spots lips left a trail of promises on the night before

We could call you a hypocrite but we know you already hate your self enough

Was it worth it?

We know the guilt you feel is for having no guilt at all

Your mind was clear, unabashed, silent 

His angry affection was nowhere on your mind

Have you ever thought that the reason for his anger is because you give him no other choice?

We all agree that anger shouldn’t be automatic, shouldn’t be an instinct 

The way your father shows his anger is the same he shows his

Your fathers heart has been breaking more 

The slower the beat, the longer the sigh

You hear the impending stress under each of his steps, the ache in his chest, the absence of his company 

He tells you that the pain is tolerable some days, others not so much 

To not take the world so serious because it’ll just ***** you over in the end

Push your faults onto other people

Never admit it was all you

When the day comes to say goodbye I won’t tell you about the lies and deceit 

I’ll save your heart from breaking for I selfishly cannot cope with another broken heart

I haven’t thought your name in a month, I forget when the time arrived that I stopped keeping track of how many times you crept across my mind
They say the day that moment arrives is when you’re done grieving 

Done allowing the sadness to seep in

Done letting the dead mess with you

Done living life with a ghost 

Ma’s seen multiple psychics as a way to still have you in her life 

number 4, letter A, books, pride, my voice
Regret

wishes he could still be by our side, living the happy life he led with us before it was so rudely ripped away

As ma says this I turn my head and cover my ears

The dead can’t talk

The dead can’t think 

The dead can’t wish

The dead can’t live

He says he can’t believe how much you’ve grown, your voice, your hair, your strength. He wishes he could’ve been there as you grew up

As ma says this I hold my breath and count to thirty

Thoughts of pale corpses

Thoughts of cold skin

Thoughts of heavy caskets

Thoughts of cold, January wind 

Thoughts of silence 

Ma looks over at me waiting for a response but I only briskly nod my head

The dead terrifies me, always has

Pa telling us to hold our breath and close the windows whenever we passed a graveyard 
They’ll get you and never leave you 

You’ve never left me

Hair tugging, moving things, whispering 

The last thing we talked about was religion, you ate your favorite steak and sat down for a movie

I walked the dog around nine for an hour, the night wind brisk, swirling 

wondering what I did to be blessed with such a loving life 

Death terrifies me, it hasn’t always 

Never knowing when it’ll visit

Never knowing who it’ll take

Never knowing 

Left wondering

Dependent, well that was never a word i would’ve used to describe myself 

heavily reliant on another person to make them happy, feel fulffilled and pound away the overwhelming notion of hopelessness engraved into their bones

yep, definitely not me

id rather settle with calling them a distraction instead of admitting that i, who depicts myself as a nonchalant, unfeeling ***** that doesn’t give a **** actually gives a ****

narcissistic much? yep 

happiness, i wish i could call that my goal.
maybe when i was eleven and still held the belief that everything ends up perfect as long as you turn in your homework and dress nicely 

ah, simpler times

now days i only accomplish that so i can motivate myself to keep trying on a daily basis 

even writing seems like a chore that i don’t want to bring myself to finish anymore

getting through the day without repeatedly slamming my head into a wall in order to block out the numbness is my version of happiness now

i wish i could pinpoint when it became like this

my therapist tells me to find what triggers these feelings and once i do to squash them before they can mess with my head

i don’t know how to tell her that there is no trigger, i can’t kick them out when they’ve made me into their home 

i know how it feels to be left behind and i would never put them through that

i decide against telling her I’ve personified my depression now

this is sam, he’s always there to give me a helping hand back into bed when i look in the mirror and don’t want to face myself

this is melody, she’s always there singing soothing tunes to lure me into a spiraling fit of paranoid self hatred 

this is luke, he’s my guardian angel, always following me around making sure to bring me back down to earth whenever i get too happy

I’m grateful for them, i really am.
always involved in my life making sure not to miss anything that happens to me, no matter how big or small

which leaves me to wonder if I’m the one that has pushed all my real friends away, by only ever focusing on my fake ones

not ready to face that yet so ill leave that in the “denial” section of my brain, which is overflowing by the minute

the thing about this sadness, is that I’m not sure who i would be without it

with it goes my sense of identity and I’m not ready to have a one on one session with my real, gritty self because I’m afraid i won’t like what i find

fear, isn’t that what binds us all?

keeps us from leaving people, keeps us from staying with them

dependability, often i tell myself that if i were to live all by my lonesome in alaska with nothing but the sound of wind and smell of the forest i would be content

dependability, being able to be alone is something i pride myself on

dependability, with only my thoughts to keep me company id probably stab myself repeatedly 
dependability, i can’t depend on myself so i have to find someone i can

dependability, the sad truth

Dad has told me since i was born that theres a shark out there with our name on it

Thats why i never go as deep as my shoulders in the ocean

warnings rattle around my head and a sense of abandonment wraps around my legs

maybe the riptide felt like gentle hands leading him home

he’ll find us one day

i wonder if he’s talking about the shark or neevie

often i imagine him living in puerto Rico, having found his way among the waves he would reside in a tiny hut near the ocean side

listening every night as if to receive a whisper saying “come home”

the sole reason of dads birth being to replace his mothers only son

stand in for a deadboy

came out looking the exact opposite 

blonde hair, blue eyes

stevie, her sweet boy

pouring all the bitter, ******* she held into him

didn’t they tell you the bruises left behind were just love marks?

cherish them, it means she cares

mommie dearest loves you so, did you not know?

the closest form of loving someone is hating them and he’s got that down to a science

thoughts of prying the jalousie windows shut during winters in west tampa

counting each bullet that echoed in the distance

sitting on cotton bags skinning potatoes as his father prepared dinner for the navy ship

uncurling himself late at night when the sound of the door opening would alert him that he could finally stop hiding and embrace the warmth his fathers smile radiated

Slamming doors 

Looking into mirrors with no results 

going back rather than letting go

Jittery hands and helpless goodbyes

Wishing for a quarter yet repeatedly receiving a dime 

Wondering when the time would come that you didn’t wish to die

Widening eyes and opening palms

Learning to stand but accepting the fall

Routines, repeat, redo, robust 

Repetition is what hides the rust

Too much smoke not enough air 

Inhale the breeze, exhale the year 

Drink up the bitterness 

Eat away the pain

Run it all off in a day

Start with a beat and end with a tune
August was a bunch of blues

I haven’t thought your name in a month, I forget when the time arrived that I stopped keeping track of how many times you crept across my mind
They say the day that moment arrives is when you’re done grieving
Done allowing the sadness to seep in

Done letting the dead mess with you

Done living life with a ghost
Ma’s seen multiple psychics as a way to still have you in her life
number 4, letter A, books, pride, my voice

Regret

wishes he could still be by our side, living the happy life he led with us before it was so rudely ripped away

As ma says this I turn my head and cover my ears

The dead can’t talk

The dead can’t think 

The dead can’t wish

The dead can’t live

He says he can’t believe how much you’ve grown, your voice, your hair, your strength. He wishes he could’ve been there as you grew up

As ma says this I hold my breath and count to thirty

Thoughts of pale corpses

Thoughts of cold skin

Thoughts of heavy caskets

Thoughts of cold, January wind 

Thoughts of silence 

Ma looks over at me waiting for a response but I only briskly nod my head

The dead terrifies me, always has

Pa telling us to hold our breath and close the windows whenever we passed a graveyard 

They’ll get you and never leave you

You’ve never left me

Hair tugging, moving things, whispering 

The last thing we talked about was religion, you ate your favorite steak and sat down for a movie

I walked the dog around nine for an hour, the night wind brisk, swirling 

wondering what I did to be blessed with such a loving life 

Death terrifies me, it hasn’t always

Never knowing when it’ll visit

Never knowing who it’ll take

Never knowing 

Left wondering

I’m not sure if I’m capable of love

I thought I was a little while back but ever since I realized that he’ll never love me the way I want him to i closed off all possibilities of feeling that dreadful infatuation again

I yearn for the day when I don’t define love as being weak

I think that’s when you know it’s not love

He can never sit back and bask in the moment, always on a tight schedule, always moving

It feels like my childhood all over again

As I talked to him all I felt was the bitter remnants of my father pouring out of him 

Mocking ridicule nagging

I was standing in my mothers shoes 

The only time I feel close with him is when our bodies are doing all the talking

I want somebody to hold my hand not push it away 

We’ll never last but I’ve always known that

I can still hear the collapse of my mothers heart, the shake in her yell and the pounding of her docile fists the day my brother left.

Gasping silence and shocked, wide eyes

She couldn’t believe that the monster she always saw lurking in my father had finally shown its full form.

“He’ll come back, they always do” he said 

“Get off the ground and move on”

As if the absence my brother left behind was just dead weight to be carried.

He only moved into an apartment a few miles away with a girl he tried really hard to love
  
She was just there to help him feel a tiny ounce of independence from the tight knit cell we often found ourselves boxed in.

Tow away his car, **** all the dignity he has left out of him, rough love is real love 

Cancel all his accounts, alienate him from any connection to our blood, rough love is real love

Tell him we won’t be here when he decides to stop dreaming and come back, rough love is real love.

Extract the sound of his name from your lips and discard the memories, easier for us to forget that he exists. 

I used to count sheep whenever the “lets see who can yell louder” game started

I imagined each face was his running as fast as he could to leave this hellhole we called home

I wished I could too.

I still haven’t been able to count sheep since, they only keep me awake serving as reminders of the mock childhood hammered into my skull from the ****** hands of my father.

I used to think I had my mothers heart but more and more of my father is beginning to seep from my pores

Bitter control freak tendencies I can’t scrub out.

You can only be called a worthless  ******* for so long before you  start believing it’s true

I believe that’s why he ran.

Running is a passion of mine

The harder I push, the less I think

I can control the amount of pain I feel.

I’m a runner

But I don’t want to run from this anymore.

Are you leaving 

is he staying 

or are you just going home

will he hold you

will he kiss you

or will he just let you go

oh little starlet

keep on shining 

even when your all alone

keep that light on 

don’t you dim yourself 

even when he tells you go 

The other night when he was sleeping 

you packed your bags and left

to the field

where you first met

underneath the shining stars

He told you you were beautiful even in the dark

The stars they could not compare

to the beating of your heart 

His arms were strong and you were falling

into the summers hazy start

Are you leaving 

is he staying 

or are you just going home

will he push you

will he shove you

or will he just keep you close

Don’t get your hopes up 

when he calls you

He’ll only bring you down

every word that comes out of his mouth

are just the pleas of a jaded man

oh little starlet

please move along

plenty more will come and go

this ones just a warm up

for the next few ones

are you leaving

are you staying

or will you just let him go

I feel like a clock that won’t stop ticking

no matter how much i want to shut up

round and round i go

repeating the same motions
to the point where i feel sick

when i reach the twelve
i like to tell myself that i can’t erase whats happened
i can’t forget but i can move on and learn from yesterdays mistakes

i still don’t like to call you a mistake

As i hit one
my resolve is steady and thriving

I deserve to be seen and to be treated like i ******* mean something

Somewhere along the way i lost what i believed in so strongly
I’m trying to find my confidence again
As i hit three
my mind is becoming jumbled
maybe from all the alcohol I’ve consumed
but hey who knows

I like to say i just want him gone but its taking everything in me to not talk to him

i miss his smile
his presence
his voice
I remind myself he wasn’t thinking of me when he was with her

As i hit five
the anger riots through my body and courses through my mind

Frugal ******* wouldn’t spend a dime on me but for her he could spend 70 dollars on the ticket and a hundred on the tux

it doesn’t add up

As i hit seven
my anger turns into a pathetic moping that i told myself i would never participate in when it came to him
i tell him to leave me alone
he doesn’t even fight back

i don’t want to give up
he’s left me no choice
i can’t even tell what time it is anymore some type of liquid has been leaking from my eyes for the past hour and i still don’t want to admit that they’re for him
I will not be weak

My limbs are growing heavy
my resolve is wearing thin

all i want to do is let him back in

I thought i meant more to him
I guess i never did

so **** him

Ive come to the conclusion that even though i always wear my running shoes, it doesn’t mean i can outrun everything

The roads
they lead to somewhere
You don’t know where you’ll end up
you might not want to end up anywhere
your always going to come face first with a dead end

I burnt my hand purposely the other day
so that i could feel a tiny ounce of emotion for a change
all I’m left with is irritated red skin
A reminder that despite the amount of pain i have stored inside
i still feel nothing
Laughter cascades from my lips
pleasantries tumble through my slight smile
The truth perches itself on my tongue
idly and patiently waiting for the day when i let it out
I hear its sighs when i speak
i feel the disappointment radiating from it in tsunami waves
Its a constant bad taste in my mouth that no amount of lyrsterine can rid of

“aren’t you tired of holding me in?”
it whispers after every conversation

I cover it up with more futile words piling on top of each other till i don’t even remember what i believed in at first
ironic how the thing that exhumes me is the one that buries me
Rip my chest open and haul out my insides
I’m afraid all you’ll find is a note saying
“ no one home, been gone for a while”

Cut along my skull with a scalpel and expose my brain
I’m afraid all you’ll find is little workers packing up their bags, glancing up and saying
“ Your efforts are nugatory, theres no sign of sentiment here”

Cradle my heart in your palms and feel the beat
I’m afraid it’ll crumble and disintegrate into dust
Sifting through the remnants you’d find a crumpled paper saying
“ If found, its too late”

The word Unhappy resonates through my head
pounding at my brain
oozing from my eyes
unhappy
morose
doleful
the list goes on

Im afraid of change
i’ve been unhappy for so long that the thought of not being terrifies me

Sometimes I have to lie to my mind in order to get some sleep at night

I am not proud of this

Sometimes I have to shut down everyone around me in order to temporarily forget about the anger I keep shut inside me

I am not proud of this

Sometimes I have to run so hard in order to make myself feel pain caused by myself for a change instead of others

I am not proud of this

Sometimes I open my heart so wide but always end up stitching it back up again in order to mend the broken thought that I can’t fully feel connected to anyone

I am not proud of this

Sometimes I let other people’s voices wash over my own in order to make them happy

I am not proud of this
Sometimes I allow myself to get taken advantage of, as if the chances I reluctantly keep giving out will make a person change their selfish ways

I am not proud of this

The word “*****” hangs over my head lit up with fluorescent lights flashing wildly
Sometimes I can’t find any power in myself to curl my lips into a sly smile, I just can’t do it

Some days I am weak, moody and impenitent 
I can’t deal with anyone’s **** let alone my own
The need to be alone is conspicuous and demanding, beating me up to the point where I may just concede
I have to make friends with myself again, I just need some respectful space in order to do so

i remember looking at the clouds
thinking how alone they looked
Appearing to share each others company
but at the same time looking so distant
Ive always sympathized with them
i would lay and watch them pass over me for hours
wondering how they knew where to go even when the path became dark
The stars don’t shine like they used to
they’ve dimmed to a slight glow
the light doesn’t seem to be in my reach anymore
I’ve stopped wishing on shooting stars whats the point of believing when you know what your believing in is a lie
only kept alive with counterfeit faith
only there to deceive yourself rather than everyone around you
Freckles dust your shoulders and cheeks
i cant help but imagine each one being a lie I’ve kept alive for your sake
There were millions
the thing i love about you most can somehow represent what i hate about you just as much
You’ve never held me the way you did today
i should be happy
instead i feel the exact opposite
Numbness and detachment blur my vision and block my thoughts
I’m left staring out the window while you gently kiss my neck
I’ve become the clouds
alone amongst the masses
You make me call the shots
thats not what i want
i need someone to tell me
what to do
where to go
how to speak
lately Ive been tired of holding so much responsibility on my shoulders
you nuzzle your nose with my own and gaze into my eyes
i really don’t want to let you go
You ask whats wrong
i answer with my new catch phrase
I’m tired
if only you could see that i mean Im tired of this routine

Somehow I’m able to feel so profoundly but at the same time feel nothing at all

i blame it on my ****** up character

lack of trust
fearfulness of intimacy
drifting apart
getting hurt
losing them
being alone
The loneliness clutches my wrists, breathily whispering
“you’ve driven everyone away, the ones you love so dearly are either dead, dying, or gone because you made them leave.”

The word goodbye slams around in my head
thrashing around and whacking the walls
this must be what my headaches originate from
I can’t just keep you around for my sake
my fear of being alone
I have this need to be with someone
but when i am
I’m not there at all
When you held me i felt nothing at all
only the warmth of your body and the scruff on your chin
My kisses were too hard
my touch too callous
all my motions seem to be rehearsed
Im beginning to think that we’ve lost our touch
I’m not sure if it was ever even there to begin with.

I never realized darkness could be understanding
until i gently embraced the demons howling in my body
they pounded and screeched
trying to throw me off of them    
eventually they melted into my arms and whispered in my ear
they just needed love
I held their fists and opened them
coaxing their palms to face upward
I rested My hands on their shoulders and eased them to relax their tense muscles
I smoothed the wrinkles their foreheads held
formed from their constant state of worry
I placed my hand on their hearts
Telling them anger held no resolution
The only outcome they would find their selves faced with would be them standing alone in a room
with so much love in them but no one to give it to
Anger is what drives people mad
it starts with a slight burn that courses through your veins  
enveloping your body with a warmth unbearable
to the point where you contemplate standing **** in a blizzard just so you can feel numb again
You thought the numbness was bad?
wait until you feel so much that you regret ever telling it to leave
The only response i received was a brief
“you’re the one that controls us.”

I lowered my hand and walked away      
the snarls and banging started up again in full force
The more my mind spiraled the louder they became

How can i have control when everything in my life seems to be out of my control?

The blood wasnt pumping anymore.
  your body can still thrive without a brain but never without a heart
I think thats why ive always felt dead.
  My heart was bitter and black, the only sound escaping it were the whispers of envious mad men looking for their sanity.
  Love didnt have a home in my body, only a motel room where it would come and go but never stay long. Dissarayed sheets and the lights off, hands searching for love but only finding lust.
  I learned to never beg for it to stay the morning after, it always left when the sunlight flitted over last nights empty promises.
  If love ever came knocking now i wouldnt have the slighest clue, id slam the door before it even stepped a foot in.

Everyday that goes by, his heart gets a little weaker. we used to joke that he didnt have one, now he actually wont.
                                                           ­               

  his voice used to resonate through the house, rattling the walls and slamming the doors. we used to joke that we’d be better off if he’d run out of breath, now he actually does.

  some days i try not to breath so i can feel what he feels when hes gasping for air. fear clogs my throat and blocks my vision. im not sure if its fear for him or for myself when hes gone.

  ive been spoiled since birth, never having to put anyone before myself growing up, always getting my way. now i know what i want most of all out of everything in my life but the only response i hear is the yelling and stomping of my tantrum attacks, god looking at me and saying see you cant always get what you want.

  In times of crisis i always retreat into myself, finding shelter in my thoughts and words. This time though, theres no solace in my mind, only panic and hopelessness making me want to escape. The voices get loud and they shout what if, what if, what if. A 50/50 chance isnt a lot to hang on to and everywhere i grasp my hand comes up empty. Trust isnt my strong point and i cant trust a possibility.

  Im afraid one day ill get a letter titled “mesages from beyond” and each one will say “you couldve done better”.

  Im looking for something like hope but every corner i turn is silent and dark. The quite used to relax me but now it surrounds me, all i can hear is the echo of my voice.

  The fort i built around myself is crumbling at a fast pace, all my gaurds betrayed me leaving me when i needed them most. winning this war looks unnattainable by myself, how do you win when the enemy can only be defeated when the person you want to save is deafeated too?

   The only letter i want to get is one saying “you did the best you could”.

She never got to say goodbye, the world was ripped out of her hands the day he left. 
Love was something she didn’t want to understand anymore, she wanted to crush it up in her angry fist, never letting it touch the light again. 
Happiness was something always attainable to her when he was apparent in her life.
  
his touch, his scent, his smile, his words
  
she couldn’t find them anywhere
   
The world was big but never too big for the both of them, she scoured every dusty corner, every spotless room for his essence, it was nowhere in sight.      
  Every floorboard she stepped on creaked, almost collapsing underneath the grief she fostered inside of herself.  
  Being comfortable with being alone was something she took pride in, but loneliness, it was uncharted territory. now she only had the thought of him to keep her company, his jokes would recycle themselves in her mind, their conversations replayed on repeat.  
  when he left, he took the sun with him leaving her in darkness. 
five years went by and still not one sign of him. Somehow he was everywhere, but nowhere at once.
  The grief she carried had become a lover to her, their relationship was complicated. Mainly consisting of anger, regret, numbness, Sadness and confusion but it was driven by love.
  He loved to paint, communicating himself through the strokes he made. Every dab of color was a dab of his mind, intricate and complex. If you thought you lost him, you’d only have to go walk down to the beach. there you would find him, paint brush in hand and an easel in the other. 

  She sat the other night for the first time in his studio, the room was filled with dust and his mind was everywhere. Five years, no one had entered this room and his essence was everywhere.
  A covered up painting lay propped up in the corner of the room, she walked over to it. slowly unrobing it she found herself staring at his face, his brown eyes glistened with the knowing look he always had.
  
five years, she had finally found him

I keep the door unlocked every night incase you ever decide to come back 
      
  Strangers have only entered, i had tea with a burglar once and he told me love wouldn’t come home if it already found a new one
  After he left i locked the door and told myself Love would have to knock from now on

Some days I miss you so much that I can hear all the murmurs of the people I've crossed in my life telling me to give up.
  I used to carry you with me wherever I went with the backpack you always used to use, but the other week the zipper broke and all the memories I had of you came spilling out. One by one they slipped through my fingers and I realized how easily someone could leave you with nothing.
  Materialistic objects aren't everything and I know that how much You meant to me isn't measured by the number of things I have left of you. Sometimes I just want to hold something that belonged to you and be able to channel your spirit for a moment.
  You left on a Wednesday and every Wednesday since has reminded that you can miss someone just as much as you can love them. I wish I would've loved you more when you were still here.
  Every smile I receive is a sign that maybe you're still trying to make me happy. When I walk to school I see the Same man jogging with a giant smile overtaking his face. The other day he ran past me, looked me directly in the eyes and said I hope you have a good day, with a smile that I swore I could see your face in. I think I found a little of you that day.
  I've begun to accept that I can't carry you around all the time but what I can do is sit you on the top of my tongue so that whenever I speak, a little bit of you is still put out into the world.
  Silence and solitude is my reverie but I know I need to put myself out in the world in order to get Anything back, You taught me that.

How can someone love me when I don't even love myself?
  I miss the ocean, it was the closest thing to love I've ever felt. It was winter and the water was numbing, to the point where you couldn't decipher your toes from your fingers. Im not religious but when i floated there with my arms spread, my face up and my eyes wide open to the blaring sun, i swear i felt god smiling at me.
  Every time i go in the ocean, i feel reborn and alive. I'm not religious but every time i go under and then surface, i feel like I'm getting baptized all over again. If the warmth you feel when your laying out in the sun is gods blessing, than i think I've found him.
  I can't throw myself selflessly into faith
How can i trust someone that might not even be there when i can't even trust myself?
  I miss the mountains, it was the closest thing to love I've ever felt. It was summer and my independence skyrocketed. Im not religious but when i stood alone, outside my tent on the grassy plain, staring at the sherbet sunrise, i swear i found my heaven. If the purity of the rain falling on that mountain is god showing me the million chances i have to start anew, than i think I've found him.
  I can't throw myself selflessly into faith
  How can i believe in someone I've never seen when i can't even believe in myself?
  How can i devote myself to someone when i still need to devote myself to me?
  How can i open my heart when I'm afraid to let any ounce of hope in?
  How can i live life to the fullest when I'm already filled to the brim with despair?
  How can i hand myself over to you when i know you can't answer the questions I'm dying to find the solutions to.

I thought I could escape everything If I kept running
but now I've broken both my legs and without you as my crutch, I'm not sure I'll find the willpower to walk again.
  The other day I realized you can prolong the pain for so long but eventually you're going to have to come face to face with it.
I still can't look you in the eyes.
   I swear I can still feel your calloused hands on my lips, They keep me quite and passive. I lose the urge to speak whenever Im around you.
  When I look in mirrors all I see is a little girl staring back, eyes wide and apprehensive. Her hands are shaking and her teeth are chittering, shes breaking down on the inside.
  I wore my boots today to feel confident, maybe if I walk loud enough people will finally acknowledge my tread.
  Im tired of tiptoeing around, I will stomp my feet until everyone hears the pain Im trying to resonate. You always told me i was too loud, I hope I shatter your eardrums now.
  You cover your ears and shush me, I shrink down to the size of my heart, indecisive and weak.
  My father always said patience isn't our families strongpoint, I'm trying to change that. I keep giving you chances because I'm tired of expecting the worst out of people. Maybe I'm more like my dad than I'd like to admit.
  I want you to prove me wrong, I need you to try.

The messier we got the messier my room got. I always say your room is a reflection of your mind.
  Clothes piled on top of each other, doubling just like our problems.
  I couldn't bring myself to clean it all up.

I think my dads heart is breaking, his body is slowly shutting down on itself as if to tell everyone he wants to pack up and leave. 

I think my dads heart is breaking, too weak to even pump enough blood anymore as if to tell everyone he’s giving up.

I think my dads heart is breaking, he doesn’t try to catch his breath anymore as if saying he wants it to stay lost.

I think my dads heart is breaking, every absent look in his crystal eyes is a reminder that he’s so much sadder then he lets on. 

I think my dads heart is breaking, every time he looks in the mirror his mothers reflection is staring back at him. Gaunt cheek bones and sunken eyes, they could be twins.

I think my dads heart is breaking, his body looks like it’s ready to conquer the world but on the inside its ready for retirement.

I think my dads heart is breaking, his smile keeps fading a little each day.

I think my dads heart is breaking, he used to say karma catches up to you, is it bad I think it’s finally caught up to him?

I think my dads heart is breaking, I don’t know how to fix it.

It's not that you view the world in a negative way because your hopeless, you just don't like getting your hopes up. How can you be optimistic when every day is a crushing reminder that you want so much more then you're receiving?
You are proud, assertive, bold and undaunted.
The type of person many people don't know how to reckon with.
  It's not that you're rude, you just have so many opinions and thoughts jumbled in your brain that sometimes they come out harsher then intended. You are not a mean spirited person. you are the type of person that rarely comes along, only containing good intentions. The people that stick around to realize this, they're the lucky ones.
  People often don't know how to perceive you because they're the insecure ones. When someone weak is faced with a strong willed person, they become defensive. This is why you must stay strong, never let them flicker your ethereal flame.
  You are the rain after a drought, bringing life and spirit to those in need.
  You may view yourself as more harmful then helpful, rest assured thats not the case.

Lillian its not that your mother didn’t love you, its just that she was still trying to figure out how to love herself.
Her arms could only reach so far, you just were never close enough.
Lillian its not that your mother didn’t have a heart, its just that some days it couldn’t keep up with the pace of her mind.
you could try shouting but she would never hear you over the voices speaking to her.
Lillian its not that your mother viewed you as worthless, its just that she couldn’t find worth in her self just yet.
How could she open her eyes for you when she thought there was nothing worth looking at.
Lillian its not that you deserved her anger, its just that she didn’t know how to treat something constant in her life when everyone kept on leaving.
She couldn’t come to terms with how someone could love her so unconditionally despite her demons.
Lillian its not that your mother regretted you, its just that no one has stuck around long enough to get past her walls.
she thinks that she’ll be left to clean up the rubble alone.
Lillian its not that your mother is a reflection of yourself, its just that she never had room to grow.
You are a big fish in a little pond like her, though you can break free.

I hang on so tightly as if  don’t trust my own grip
every day is a never-ending battle of please quite down and please keep talking
any slight movement will push me past my breaking point
when i cut you off, i cut my hair off. the sound of hair dropping and scissors equivalent to the snapping of the line being held between us.
new me, no more you.
i can’t seem to shake you, you’re not even that great. i think i like the half *** attention you give me more then you as a person.
Its time for me to break it off and move on for good this time. Delete you off of everything and erase your number again. Its not the silence i hate but the absence you feel when you realize you don’t talk to someone anymore. The feeling blooms throughout your chest, strangling your airway making you desperate.
Second chances don’t always work out, but at least i tried.
Heart please listen to mind this time.

I think I’m a ticking timebomb, every day that goes by my anger grows and grows, never diffusing.
Theres no one else to be angry at but myself. As weak as an eggshell, breaking at the slightest impact. If i were a color i would be scarlet, filled with rage and a roaring fury that only gets worst when spoken to.
My body is as tight as a coil, springing up in defense at every little thing. impatient and tired of the apparitions that keep moving through the walls of its brain. I want them to leave but i get lonely without them keeping me company.
I ask them to hold my head up, their transparent hands gently cradle me. rocking me into an absent lull. They bring me down but lift me up and i can’t live without their memory, They make me into who i am.
i ask them to hand me the ladder whenever i get stuck at the bottom of the pit. I should’ve learned my lesson, sometimes they pull it up instead of lowering it down. They make me keep grasping for more light.
I ask them to eat dinner with me occasionally, i tell them i want to hear their voices again. i leave out extra placemats for them incase they ever decide to join me. I’m left hoping and staring at empty seats, reminded that they will never come back. They make me stomach food again.
I ask them if it hurt when they left. if they feel my tears whenever i cry. i am met with wide stares and carefree smiles. left to wonder what they found that makes them happy. they make me feel again.
I ask them to love me despite what disasters i make for myself. i don’t have to hear their voices anymore to know that they do.

I’ve been breathing in the city air as if it will renew my insides

In reality its just polluting me all over again.

when i was younger i used to look up and see skies filled with shapes and inspiration

now i just see blobs.

gritty, filthy, unhealthy

i miss my positive perpsective, I’ve lost hold of it and i can’t seem to find it anywhere.

i keep slamming into concrete walls. they are cracked and unsteady, but relentless. i can’t force them down, maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. I’ve tried making nice with it, I’ve smoothed plaster in its cracks, making each dreary, destructive memory a distant, covered up story. you can’t cover up the bad though no matter how hard you try to hide it, it always comes and seeks you out. i envy the bad though, how it stays so strong despite all attempts to rid of it, i wish that i could be that powerful.

I haven’t seen your face in two years, i wonder how you would look now. would you have even more grey hairs then you already did? would age greet you with astounding stealth and love? would you tell me every things going to be okay.

I’ve been grasping for signs but everytime i open my fist its empty. Sometimes i feel like you’re in the military again, deployed but you’ll come back. You’re not coming back and each empty birthday is a reminder of that. every corner i turn i still expect you to pop out and say boo. you’re dead and that would be considered haunting, which I’ve told you not to do to me.

every day i still go through the cycles

regret, anger, confusion, sadness, numbness

i need you to tell me everything is going to be okay.

I've always been attracted to things I couldn't have. They lure me in with soft tantalizing pleas of "aren't you curious how much different your life could be with us in it".
All the possibilities come roaring to life
"You could find love"
"New friendships aren't all that bad"
"New experiences"
Now this new experience idea has invaded my mind, wringing around my brain with an embrace so tight that it's not a comforting hug anymore.
I want to experience everything life has to offer, both the positive and negative. I want to feel such a contrasting variety of things, I think this coexists with the high hopes I have. Maybe by feeling a lot i can cover up this numbness that doesn't seem to leave me.
Ironic how I can get rid of everyone else but I can't rid myself of this, I do admire consistency in anything and **** is it undeviating.
I didn't use you but you came into my life when I was in the middle of a transition. Someone wanted to get to know me and the attention made me happy, it still makes me happy, Which is where the problem lies. Despite all the sure tale signs that you may have only been wanting one thing, I took a chance and dove in. The stormy waves visible to me in the distance didn't seem to matter. I came to see you as my raft, keeping me afloat and away from the dark pit of endless water underneath me, that I was afraid I would drown in. You distracted me from it in the beginning, entertaining me enough that I forgot it was even there.
Then you became it, You began to drag me down. You grabbed a hold of my ankle, pulling me underneath the waves and I haven't seen the sun since. I would try to swim back up but I couldn't bring myself to break free of your grip, so I stayed and began to force myself into thinking this was how all relationships were.
Day by day your hold became looser and finally you let me go. I despised you at first but then I became grateful. The freedom was liberating, my mind was at ease for the first time in a while. No more anxiety triggered by you, no more useless effort from my end.
Recently I let you back in, did some things I'm not proud of but who doesn't. You didn't stick up for me, the thought of me being a bad influence is laughable. Now we are both forbidden from seeing each other. Never did I think I would see the day when a mother views me as harmful to her son.
Like I said, I've always been attracted to things I couldn't have. I don't think I am anymore.

I think I've been lost since I was young
My dad used to have this homemade train room in our garage, with cubbyholes you could come up into by crawling underneath. I would sit in there for hours losing myself in this tiny world that only I had control over. I think this is where my need to have control over every factor in life developed.
I think I've been lost since I was young
When I was eight I split a bedroom with my older sister. our two single sized beds were connected at a right degree angle with a giant hallow, white box connecting them In the corner. I made this box into my sanctuary, entering through the hinged door. I set up blankets, pillows and a fan spending countless hours alone in this hot condensed place. I think this was where I started seeing suffocation as a means for survival.  
I think I've been lost since I was young
I used to throw these deafening tantrum attacks when I was little, throwing myself on the floor, parading to everyone what a brat I was. My family would call them spirals because once they started it was all downhill from there and there was no way of stopping it. I would pound and beat the ground, screeching at the top of my lungs. Once I even started beating my grandma with a broom. I think this was where my unexplainable, hidden anger first began to bloom.
I think I've been lost since I was young
When my parents were still married their walk in closet was my hiding spot to listen to their arguments. Even though I didn't understand it I still liked feeling apart of it. I remember looking at their clothes, my mothers on the right, my dads on the left. Separate. I think this was where I realized it wasn't love if it didn't make you feel good.
Can you even be lost if you're not sure you even have a place to call your home anymore?

Resting on the dock with my feet dangling into the water I earlier called filthy, I swear I could hear the tiny stars trying to understand to me.
"What are you attempting to accomplish by doing this?" They all whispered in quite tones as if my answer held the world in its words.
"This isn't you, since when have you needed alcohol to do anything. You're changing and maybe not for the better."
I feel like crying but my eyes won't let the tears escape. I look over at him talking all excitedly, The moonlight holding his freckled face in her hands with a warm caress.
Him, I tell them. He is my step back, he is the root of this all. If you were to delve into my mind, he would be at the beginning saying hello.
"Would he also be at the end?" they all twinkle and ask.
We haven't found our end yet and I can't tell the future. This won't last but I have been saying that for months, it's a never ending cycle of confusion and hurt and I can't seem to get myself to get out of its rotation.
It's like the feeling you get when you ride the spinning teacups. Everything around you is blurred, less impactful. You can only see the person right in front of you and nothing else seems real. You know you'll regret it afterwards but as of now it feels oh so liberating. When you finally get off, everything comes back in full force, you feel sick and you swear you'll never do it again. The sad thing is you make yourself believe that.
"You still do it countless times after though, why is that?" The moon is listening now, her gaze is on me but her caress is on him.
Because it's fun and the feeling is amazing, it's the after part that hurts. The pain of worrying and overthinking everything, wondering why it has to be so ******* complicated when it's simple.
"You aren't talking about the ride anymore are you?" They all whisper in unison.
He shouldn't have to be drunk to tell me he loves me. This isn't love and if if is, get me the **** out, Id rather be alone.
I ****** up
"You made a mistake from which you will learn from"
I want to hate him
"Hate is the one thing your heart doesn't hold"
I need to stop seeing him
"You can't control who your mind and heart choose to like"
He is a tsunami only leaving wreckage behind that I can not clean up
"You will repair everything with time. Time is the mender here and also the breaker, it just wasn't on your side"

I envisioned each of my cavities as bad memories, the fillings able to lock them up so I wouldn’t have to feel them so wholeheartedly anymore. These fillings didn’t last forever though and when they wore off the past came back with a persistent vengeance.
The dentist would play these celestial piano songs that would tune out the sound of the drill. Sometimes i felt like I could get closer to you in these moments. Forced to stare up at the ceiling, I wondered if this was what you too saw in your last fleeting moments.

The novacane made me realize I didn’t want to be numb anymore, I wanted to take everything in and get over it but that’s not how grieving works. You don’t call the shots, you only hold on for your life hoping that the end, although nowhere near in sight, is good to you.
My first poem was about you, how you’re like the sunset. Now looking back I realize you are the sunrise, washing away the worries of yesterday. Bringing in new light and a clean slate, Your smile is the beginning not the end. I refuse to use past tense when it comes to you because I keep you alive with the words I speak and the memories I keep.

Whenever I’m lost I wake for the sunrise and find myself again.
Whenever I feel like I lost you I wake for the sunrise and find you again.

I used to laugh in my sleep, the giggles would resonate like church bells during a funeral, hopeful despite the dreariness. I slept so that I could hear myself laugh again.

This went on for weeks, then one day the laughing halted altogether. No more symphonies of hazy laughter and crinkled eyes. Why did something so altering and harmless have to end?

It was a lesson, never become dependent on other people for your happiness. They can give but they can also take.

I found my laughter again in the unsteadiness of the ocean, the moodiness of the current. How the rip tide could carry you away but only if you let it. The sun tasted like serenity and that was where I found my purity. 

I found my laughter again in the words that appeared in the steam of my tea. Cinnamon was the flavor I drank when I knew you but I’ve moved onto blueberry now. They whisper look at this, look at her, look at the world. I drink up their simmering advice.

I found my laughter again in the patience of clouds. How they absorb everything for a little bit, let it all out for a day and then move on. I try not to lock all my worries up inside myself anymore, but when I do I always make sure I have an umbrella handy.
I thought I found my laughter in you but turns out you were only a hiccup that interrupted it.

Those wise stars twinkled so luminously, I looked over into your eyes thinking all the answers could be found in their depths.
I wouldn't call it pathetic maybe just hopeful and naive with a tinge of foolishness. Intellectual depth was mistaken for insightfulness and the spark I thought I saw in your eyes was nothing but a dull, passionless blown out star.
The ocean breeze, salty air and Piña coladas tend to make you drastically romanticize everything (especially that hideous necklace that looked nothing like Something I would've worn).
That last night I had to beg you to stay up with me watching the Florida coast line come into view. The outline of the whole state was visible and that was when I realized I really ******* love my life. I looked over at you and you were half asleep.
Different priorities, different mind set, different ideals .You were a bland key-lime pie while I was a red velvet cake. I, Rich with prosperity and thoughts and you were content with the life I dreaded seeing myself stuck in.
Hey, if a a big house on a lake with a dog and a boat is your thing, go for it. I strive to not follow in my parents footsteps.
The day we ended I went down to Davis island where we always used to sit. The carnival cruise ship was leaving. I watched it sail all the way out into the horizon, the warm thought of you went with it.

I will wear you until the threads begin twiddling into former ghosts of themselves.

The last wooly remnants still slightly smell like your woodsy scent and that’s why I don’t go camping anymore.

It’s not because I hate the thought of you but I’ve Always hated kicking someone down when they’re just beginning to get back up and the thought of you does that to me.

The memory of that truck doused in flames on the way to Washington remains in my overworked brain still. The smell of burnt, charcoaled tires and metal prominent in the chilly December air. I never feared fire until I put myself in the shoes of that lonesome truck driver and that was the night I wanted to try dying a little as an attempt to get closer to you.

You see it’s not death that paralyzes my emotions and sends me into a numb, fearful state. The thought of regrets and things left unsaid with people, that didn’t understand what I was going through at the time is what gets my anxiety pumping.
Oh, why do I wear this sweater despite the warmth outside? To thaw the frost surrounding my heart

i dreamt of you the other night and i cant say i've felt the same since
why were the bumble bees on the appalachian trail so furry and friendly? Maybe it was the fresh mountain air that turned them into fuzzy mutants. I swear i could feel them softly whispering calming pleasantries into my ear, like stop worrying you're going to fall off this mountain silly girl, that wont be the way you die.
a white spotted greyhound tagged behind our group on the trail for a solid thirty minutes, my heart ached for the loneliness and hopelessness it must've been feeling, depression cant only be limited to humans? i thought about that dog obsessively for a week straight while everyone else shooed it off easily. No living thing wants to die alone and that dog reminded me of that paralyzing fear i inhabit.
bare feet padded down the beaten dirt path, walking sticks and grime galore. smiles graced their content dirt streaked faces. this must be an early preview of what my heaven will appear as.
cows were dotted everywhere, in another life i hope to be apart of a cow herd on a mountain filled with dandelions. they aren't weak, they are assertive and docile, only a ***** if you mess with them.
i wish words could fathom the beauty in the orange that sunrise contained. rustling sleeping bags and soft sighs of sleep enveloped the tent in a hazy glow, chilled faces turned rouge from the bittersweet breeze. this moment awakened my resonating need for individuality, the feeling of standing alone amongst others who seem to be enduring each day in a sleepy zombie like state. Only surviving for the moment they can finally collapse into their homely, bundled sheets. I'm afraid of being like them.
where did i leave off on you, something about a dream?

Letting go is the wind during a storm, your emotions playing a tug of war.
No she isnt ready, let her grieve, let the stars give her a sign when she may start to be her old self again.
But what if this old self does not exist anymore. this new one is the real you,formed by tears, divorce, death, drinking and things your eyes cannot unsee. your friends say
"why are you so quite today?whats wrong"
i feel like shouting "DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME."
what if i want to be secluded in my own thoughts.
im still grieving
Let Me Remember What Could Have Been.

I need peace and quite, I need a steady state of mind.
The world is rotating slowly but my feet keep stumbling.
The words I want to say perch idly on my tongue only seeing the daylight when soft false words selectively tumble from my mouth in an orderly zigzag.
My mind whispers “speak your truth” but my lips speak the opposite

Our evening would be filled with playful banter
Full of “hows it feel to be an old man now!”

“50 more to go!”

“I’ve already reserved your spot in the nursing home!”

“I’m so grateful to be here with you celebrating this milestone in your life”

You would say this isn’t a sad day, this is a happy day, I’ve made it 50 years countering every move made to beat me

You’d eat tons of cake and we’d drink cafe con leche after everyone leaves

This is only one day out of so many more to come. This set back does not define you, it’s only a folded back tab in a book, that you will look back to every once in a while when you yearn for clarity.

Live for the promise of an uncertain outcome. Stop worrying yourself to the point of fatigue about what you think your future needs to have to make how you lived your life seem successful. 

Breathe
Live for the promise of one day being able to unabashedly love with the force of a tsunami. So many people will pass in and out of your life, let them go when it is time. Learn from the lessons they brought to your attention. Look back fondly on the times you spent with them, not bitterly. let them move on to their next stage while you move on to yours.
You have so many years to live, call them up in 10 years and see if they found what they were searching for.

Breathe
Stop waiting by the phone for a response. Be what you make yourself out to be, No more excuses. Be gentle, trustworthy and patient.
Breathe
This will pass.

Sweaty palms
Pulsating heart beat

Shaking body
Are you anxiety or love?

Is there a difference between the two 

They both end the same

They never stop

I will sit with these little monsters 

Crawling inside my blood

Nestling into my body
Finding solace in my mind

Making me their home

Give them a warm blanket

And ask them why

She was the monster under the bed

Always lurking, never real till I brought her up

She was the coat in the closet

You wore it when you needed comfort and warmth
She was the elephant in the room

Blatantly visible to me but never you

She was the shadow behind you

Everywhere you went you brought her with you

She was the ghost haunting me

Taunting and teasing my anxious mind

She was the puppeteer

Pulling all the strings

She was the excuse

I used her to compensate for why you didn't try harder

All my poems about you are mostly negative

I should’ve heeded that as a soft warning
Poetry has always been there to back me up more then anyone else has and I should’ve payed more attention to the signs it was trying to Display

I told myself it was stupid to weigh the cons over the pros,the cons tended to be massive.
A relationship is more then a body that needs weighing

I’ve told myself from the beginning it was going to hurt, that I would be ready with pen in hand, spilling all of the pain out when it happened

I ended up caring more then i thought I would

I am poetic, riveting, emotional, I will embrace what I like and do it unabashedly
Which also means I’m easily taken advantage of
I only cared for your happiness, how to make everything easy for you

You only cared for my body and what you could get from it