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Caitie Mar 5
if one day my skin started to rot
i'd spend the last hours of my life here.

i'd pace back and forth in this familiar
scene with all my wrong-doings on repeat

i'd rewind and rewatch the times i replied
with words i didn't mean and throwing fists i couldn't clench.

I'd reload the entire decade i spent absent
and remind all my friends that i needed them here.

i'd throw myself deeper to stress the recoil
i subjected myself to
and rerun the episodes where i spun around in circles trying to grip the reins on my affliction.

i'll never be able to reconcile the seconds. the days. the years i spent crawling inside of my body looking for a warm place to nest.
in fact i think i'm still searching.

if my skin is starting to decay, the rest of my body will soon.
but i can't stop pacing and the tapes keep playing
for me to reminisce on my remorse.
and all i can think about is how badly i want a redo.
Caitie Mar 5
i'm in love with the concept of it all.
i love how gentle the world is.
i love how sweet everyone is.

i'm infatuated by you and your words.
the sweet speak that protrudes from your lips,
and the way you look at me so softly.

if i wrote on paper the perfect life,
the perfect hallucination,
this would be it.

i spent so much time creating this
perfect reality,
but it's really not so perfect, and
really not so real.

but a constant state of delusion is comfortable.
it's home.
i'm just here, in my mind,
creating the perfect, not so real, world experience
of a lifetime.

so forgive me for the confusion
forgive my ignorance and forgive my mistakes
i'm not really here.
i'm in my own world, where on paper it looks
a whole lot better than it really is.

i'm exhausted.
im not really here.
forgive me.
Caitie Dec 2020
I face each day
Like I face my reflection.
Teeth baring and stagnant.

Stale and unamused.

I ask

"What do you have for me today?
What adversity must I face?
Am I to walk a thousand miles?
Or think a thousand thoughts?
Will you be easy on me today?

He says

"Don't water the plants.
They want to die.
They don't want to bloom."

Take their lives.
**** them off

I'm talking to myself out loud.
I hear my voice
But I don't hear any words.
I hear the disgruntled mumbles
I'm attempting to speak.

In due time,
things will be fine.
In due time,
You'll make sense of it all.
Where do I start?

I ask

"Do these things matter?
Am I supposed to feel?
Where's my guilt?"

He says

"Don't water the plants.
They want to die.
They don't want to bloom"

That's all I get?

He says

"That's all you'll ever get"

As if he was in my head.
As if he heard my thought.

No matter how much I asked,
That's all I ever got.

The flowers.
They don't want to be alive.
They don't want to bloom.

Did the flowers give up too?
Was it their only choice?
The only one they felt they had?

I ask

No I don't. I ask nothing anymore.

So everyday,
I face my tasks like I face my reflection.

Lifeless and dull.
Withering and disintegrating.
Like the flowers i've neglected.
On purpose.
Because I killed them.
I killed them.

I killed my self.
I killed everything I ever was.
Caitie Mar 2019
Where are you
And why haven’t I seen you in weeks?
Where are you
And your toxic nature?
I miss you sinking into my skin.
Its a seemingly impossible proportion
I’ve taken upon myself
And the stars aren’t aligned for me
So tell me why I do the things I do
When you’re around.
This is what happens
When I think about you
This is what happens
When the waves are at high tide
And full force
Ready to submerge anything in their path.
Because all I do is crumble
Because the thoughts of you are so
You’ve nestled between my skin
You’ve dug yourself a path
In what I thought
Was the utmost private of
All the passageways of my being.
I’ve never told you that I was scared.
I’ve never told you how I’m wrecked.
I’ve never told you I’m in shambles
Over someone who isn’t broken over me
I’m terrified of what ill do
Once you’re gone.
But maybe I’ll be free
Maybe I’ll thrive.
I was young
But this love has made me age
Beyond my years.
And I don’t know
If I’ll ever get back to a place
Where I learn to love myself.
Everything you’ve said
Will stay with me forever.
Never forget what you’ve done
And how conflicted you’ve left me
With myself.
My heart was never meant for this. 
I don’t like this.
But this is all I’ve ever known
And I can’t make new memories
With a life I don’t know how to live.
So, tell me.
Where are you?
Where am I?
When I’m lost inside my own mind.
Sorry this is so lengthy. Just been battling myself for quite awhile now.
Caitie Oct 2018
In a world where you’re just trying to survive.
In a world where your voice has no meaning.
In a world where each being you pursue is a placeholder for every dream you’ve ever imagined of living.
The easiest part is hurting and walking away from every voice in my head like nothing I want means anything.
If I give myself no chances of survival where will I be when i’m elbow deep in the trenches of a mans soul?
Where will I be when i’m sulking and buried in regret from doing everything I ever said I wouldn’t?
It means nothing when the relapses come more often and the promises start breaking and my focus shifts to all the dangerous things I long for so desperately.
My biggest fear isn’t dying my biggest fear is exiting this life knowing i’ve let myself down, and i’m sure i’ll do just that.
I’m sure everything i’ve ever told you will become a memory of the times you thought I was crazy, the times you’d wish you’d never met me.
A memory of the times we sat face to face and spit nothing but hate in each other’s faces.
A memory of when you thought you made me happy.
And that’s just it.
You thought you made me happy and I thought you gave me the world.
I thought I was good to you, and to myself.
I was loyal to nothing but the drugs and it became impossible to form any sort of connection with someone so pure.
But I beg to differ.
You’re hard to love, and I’m hard to handle.
But what does it mean when the holes in your chest become craters and the lost feeling you carry with you turns into hatred towards your own self regret?
When nothing is easy, when nothing is beautiful, run.
Run fast and run hard.
Strip yourself of the pain, and watch yourself sink slowly.
This fixation on love fuels the fire and the need to be wanted gives false hope.
But will I ever stop doing this to myself?
The answer is no. Because I thrive off of being upset and making a home in hell. And that’s just something i choose to live with.
Caitie Apr 2018
The street lights burn dim.
Seldom a soul appears.
But the walk is refreshing.
Crisp air, a feeling of content.
How quiet.
Your thoughts shout through your head,
and the breakdown
in the middle of the road.
Screams that no one can hear.
A silence no one can bear.
Caitie Apr 2018
For as long as I can remember
I've been trapped within a world where my soul does not belong.
I've been seeing black and white amongst sceneries full of color
and I can't stand knowing I am not valuing anything
I am surrounded by.
Messages spit left and right telling me to open my eyes and see the light of day, but I'm not even sure I know what to look for.
And when did it become okay to not value your own life?
When did it become normal to feel like the weight of the world sits on your shoulders and your feet stand concrete in the ground with every inability to make any movement?
If I've ever been given any opportunity to make myself happy, I've lost the ability to stray from the path and experience the things that I once loved.
Now the absence of my healthy state of mind has taught me to be dependent on substances that make each day more and more bearable while I wither away into something I thought I'd want to be.
The days I've spent hoping for a change have made me realize nothing other than the fact that I have no place in this world amongst people who are thriving.
My hands will never be clean but I will still carry this burden and drag it through the hell I call my existence.
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