18/Gender Nonconforming My name is Bailey, I am eighteen years old and I've been writing poetry since I could write. I also write music and the occasional story or essay. I love people and all of their diverse talents...and I also love you (:
xoxoxo 101 followers / 8.3k words
This suffering has become too much for my mind and my body to handle.
I am angry with You because You broke me before I had a chance to grow. You were supposed to be the one person in the world who made me feel safe, loved, and cared for. You manipulated me. You used me. You abused me. You ruined me before I ever met those who crippled me. The worst part is that I will always love You more than anyone else in this world...and when You die I will feel forever empty.
I hate YOU because YOU knew that I was younger and more vulnerable and used that to maim me. I can never enjoy my life again because of YOU. Every day of my life is violated and defiled by YOU in the same way YOU tortured me in those three months. The worst part is that it has been five years and YOU are still happily living and breathing somewhere out there. I want YOU to die.
I am terrified of you because you hold all of the power and you do not and will not care about my life. You don't care if I die. You are ruthless and disgusting like Satan himself. You are vile and cruel and apathetic. The worst part is that I see you every day and I can never hide.
i love you, but you scare me. i shake when i think about giving all of myself to you. i am alone forever in my existential thoughts that you can never enter. your touch feels wonderful...so warm and comforting. if i let myself enjoy you...you precious soul...you'll just be ripped away from me like every other almost happy thing. the worst part is that the only way to protect me is to not let myself believe you love me. please love me.
I am desperate. Clutching on for dear life to anyone and hugging until I turn blue. I am trembling and peeing and crying. I am screaming and bleeding and struggling. The worst part is that nobody knows that I am a child who just wants a hand to hold.
Life is meaningless and horrible. I feel grimy and disgusting, twisting in and out of all of their scraping hands as I walk miserably on and on and on.
I'm dying. I mean it--I am dying.
Someone help me. Someone touch me. Someone care about me.
I'm laying here looking over at you while you sleep, and I'm thinking about how absolutely precious you are, and about just how much you mean to me. How are you so sweet and lovely? So soft and caring, so wonderful to be around? Never do I find myself wanting to be away from you. You're raw honey at its finest. So pure and thick on my mind. I love you.
Violated constantly in the place I call home . Taking him home . Brick entryway . Not his kind of pretty, not her kind of handsome . What if I'm okay and I just don't know it . Dirt on my face . The question isn't "what will happen to me if I do?" It's "what will happen to them if I don't?" . Dreams of Hawaii . It critmiss .
It's so nice to put my song book on the shelf again . Novelty . C+ . Appointments . Sad and sleepy, Billie Holiday plays . What matters is that I love myself . And all of the children and all of the townspeople and all of the angels and all of me told him happy birthday . Don't play house . I feel like a failure . "One of the most dangerous things you will ever do in your life is actually listen" . I love the smell of white noise in the afternoon . Three sets of keys all piled into one . I don't want to be a maybe, I want to be a dream . Lovers? . Ke$ha concert . I trapped him in my hips . I never knew how bad I wanted to slow dance to Patsy Cline until it happened with him . I fold up the second time and put it in my pocket . Happiness .