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if i am not good enough i will force feed those ******* letters that you wrote me,

that i framed, right down your throat.

eat all of those promises because they don’t mean a **** thing and i am ****** because i love you but i should believe that i am good enough.

without being reassured by you.
older piece but very relevant right now.
I thought I began my journey anew; not very healthy but with clean hands.

It’s times like those that used to make me feel reborn. So I thought I was smarter, stronger, more capable of standing on my own two calloused feet but how can I possibly be anew when I’m stuck in my nightmares?

Only responding to the things haunting me.

Foolish.

I have never not believed in anything more than right now.

Now absolutely disgusted by the thought of an epiphany because my hands are still ***** and when the sun hits my sensitive eyes how dare you blame me for looking back. Never reaching my destination because of that.
My body trembled as those odd memories keeps in and out of my mind
Untold stories invade my inside
As my tongue tastes the bitterness of the words and exploring for the sentences to be told
My throat composes sounds of agony
As the darkness continues on thrusting itself into my chastity
The emptiness keeps on toying the zenith of my thoughts and searching in every inch of my conscience.

I can’t hold t anymore,
I scream!!!
I explode all the forgotten feelings inside of me
The painful juice of defeat is standing in front of me
Staring closely at my face, laughing victoriously
I’m all-in,
I discern the devilish grin of my past and it began to swallow my left energy

My apathetic eyes abate into bleariness
My lips involuntarily shut as I hold onto the collected sounds inside my throat
I bury myself into the depth of cold nights
I’m exhausted….
Maybe it’s time to release…
It’s time to let go all of my agitation and let myself drown within pleasurable dreams.
I watch myself lost, trying over and over again to find my answers in things like the paintings on the wall and the torn fabric in the carpet. I blame myself for using these pictures as a shield to cover the holes and I blame myself for never grabbing that ******* carpet and lifting it up. Knowingly letting the dirt settle in and STAIN something that was once beautiful and I apologize that I sit here and stew in it.

Adding to the nicotine stains around me.

— The End —