I shake my head fast back and forth
my body rocks slow back and forth
I have to drown out these thoughts
drown out my own voice

pull in happy things,
I have to trust him, I cannot do this to him,
I have to listen to my heart and to reason,
I have to find reason: I have to trust myself and him,
I have to trust him, I have to be okay, I have to breathe,
I can get through this: I can be okay, I can get through this,
I am okay: I will trust myself, I will trust him.

Always. I have to. For survival.

eyes closed within there's a scribbl,e
a monster, sideways, horizontal, sharp edges:
hard breaths, gray background, filtered: and it'll make me
run away, deep breaths, why did those things happen this way?
is there no other way? is there nothing else to do? all this way, all this way, I came all this way, I thought I wouldn't have to leave you again, I thought I would never have to leave you ever again, I came all this way, I came all this way, I tried so hard to prove to you that I was worth it, I changed so many horrible things about me and I'm still trying and changing, was it not enough

your words are just words. I was right, it is all just talk:

you had no intention to take me

I gave myself up completely, I completely gave myself
to you, I said I would, body and soul only to be met with
lack of care, lack of drive for us, lack of intention, maybe even
being pulled along a string: just fluffy words, just words that
meant nothing.

this will be my silence, my silent thoughts.

once again, being denied devotion in my life. being denied giving my love, my devotion, my commitment, because others had no care for me,
no intention for me, no want for me. when the moment could have been ours, in OUR hands, in our control, it no longer is. and I'm the one most hurt. as always.

I'm always the one who loves the most. who loves more. who would do anything for the other. but never me.

last night he showed the same ounce of care he
used to — my phone — away for the night

my heart was overjoyed, just give me the chance and I know I’ll always be good

I’ll do what is good for me if you do the same thing with me, routine over and over it is please in guises of newness and creativity and new places

my closest friend

daddy i know you are reading this
yes this is my direct please to you

I want the most in the world
I want you as my father to treat me as your own daughter
I want you as my best friend to be your closest friend
I want to be your woman, your lovely loving wife
I want to be your lover to fill your life with joy
and I want us to be equals as human beings

I want to mean all of these things to you

I want you to be yourself in all these angles
treat me as your daughter as your wife as your lover as your equal as your best friend please

to me you are my lover, my closest friend, my father and my equal, another human being, yourself

it’s what I want the most. this is what i want from you. you want to make me happy, this is what will make me happy for life. this is all i’ve ever wanted. daddy. my daddy. your little girl.

why can’t I have a second chance at having a father? a man who will love me more than anything (maybe not more than himself)—

why does everyone get a second chance at everything but when i want a second chance at having a father, a man in my life who can do that for me without a problem — i must forcibly allow my life to go on without these things?

i want a second chance at a childhood
i want a second chance please
seriously not for fake but for real please

THATS THE POINT
OF ME being cute
giggly
little
tiny
happy and adorable
FOR THAT REASON
THATS THE POIINT
THATS WHY
SO YOU CAN HAVE THAT SAME SMILE
THAT same fulfillment
that same satisfaction
IM HERE
I DO THAT TOO
I DO IT ALL TOO
IM HERE TOO
I DO IT TOO
WE DO THE SAME THING
I EXIST BRO

Things always get so tainted for me
always get so ruined
why can’t I have my own
why do i have to share

Life is so beautiful
the world is gorgeous
I don’t want to hide from it but
I want to be comfortable
I want to lay in the grass
in the spot where the sun hits
the grass grows and folds around my body
the soil softens allowing my body to come inside
the earth, the grass brings me down
into itself, and it strips away all my bad
all my pain

and when the earth gently births me again
I’m born into someone lovable
someone who is worth it
someone who can be handled
someone who is deserving

I feel selfish for feeling this right now
ungrateful even

I wanted to yell at him
I’m destroying myself please
stop me, please, stop me so I can love myself
please, you can stop me, I won’t destroy myself to pieces, I’ll do all the work just please
stop me

what happened to making sure I was fed
what happened to making sure I had structure
why was it all talk
what happened to making sure I was protected
what happened to making sure I was healthy
what happened to that!

what happened to protecting me from me
what happened to giving me routine and
structure and helping me explore and grow and

I need a push I need a green light sometimes
okay I need it sometimes
sometimes people just need someone else
and that’s just me okay

I’m not ungrateful okay

And that’s when I felt so selfish

He said to take control of my life
and I chose to let it slip away

but how did I?
I want a life I want to live
how did I choose to let it leave me?

I felt selfish because
I wanted him to hold my hand
to stroke my hair and point in that direction
I wanted him to, for the first ten years of my life, hold my hand and teach me and show me

All I want to do is to have it too
I want it too
Give it to me too like you said
Or am I just blind to it?
Am I getting it but can’t see it?

Why do they leave it up to me?
I need someone to keep teaching me, please
How do you leave it up to me?

When he left my arms I felt empty
I didn’t feel whole anymore
I felt incomplete
I felt saddened to be alone again
with my emotions
with my thoughts
Saddened to be by myself—
What would I do to myself?
What could I do with myself?

Scared he’d might leave me
scared he’d might think I’m ruining him
scared he’d think the scary things
the things that scare me
the things that I run from

unfortunately

they are not my priority

I'm here in all my something
in all my nothingness
in my whatness
            wish it'd go away
why are you so cold? but I'm the one with cold hands, so why are you so cold?

// INCOMPLETE THOUGHTS .............................. //

Christian monks express the human prevalaence of the ego well. Schema monks are "constantly dying on the cross as Christ did"; meaning they are constantly "fighting sin".

Sin: the ideals of sin being overindulgence. The same way the Stoics, that pre-dated Chrstians, and other 'ancient' ideals speak on the importance of controlling desires, "quieting the mind", "neutralizing the ego", so that one can remain "detached from the ego", in control of their thoughts, mind, emotions, etc.

I don't believe in "removing" the ego. I believe that as long as humans are alive, we have to deal with the ego. The ego being our identities, attachments, our perceptions, our ideas, our beliefs.

The "transcendence of the ego" does not only mean "not being arrogant or being too indulged or being too prideful", it means to neutralize the ego. On a daily basis, having control over the ego while simultaneously surrendering to nature and the world around you.

Inhale and exhale wu wei while carrying the cross of Christ; connect to Jiva-Atman. Contemplate Barbelo --> Sophia. The softener of hearts.

to have my man speak to me the way John speaks to his wife who fears the yellow wallpaper,
I sigh and lift my cheek onto my fist,
pouting and batting my lashes into the sunset;
call me little girl, or give me special direction,
then gather me up in your arms
and read to me until it tires my head
say I'm your darling and your comfort and all you have,
and for your sake and my own sake
I must take care of myself and keep well
then I'll be drunken with care and nurture
hungover from love and the warmth of blankets that swaddle me like a little lamb, a bambi, a tiny woman I am

I roll around in the chair, over my shoulder with my hair, to look towards him, such seriousness, stares at me with a glance for a few more moments than minutes, back way to where his eyes slept on the view in the screen: I can't help but laugh at him, not mockingly, but with endearment: so serious, such a serious looking man. my mind rings, rides, waves, and brings me floods of memories of his smiling brasserie, fasting yet full smile in the summer sun walking through the tiny roads of a tiny village.

though, then, in that corner of my memory, I was the serious one: one with a slight pout on a sun kiss'd coconut black heart shaped rim-face, curved body tucked away nicely in some kind of jungle print top that hugged the small of my waist, uplifted my large pregnant chest, and with a delicate V-shape presented the creamy chocolate of my chest and neck and collarbones, then hiding my hips and full (fat, even) backside, a green and black versace-style weaved pencil skirt, while moving my feet swiftly and my legs moved fast, legs wrapped in a thicker black stocking. like licorice for him, and his lightweight posture and stance, bearded face and thrice tried crows feet.

creeping in your heart, and if it means to eat and indulge in your scent, ‘I will cover myself in your plume as to offer myself as a meal to you,' though, it never seemed to bring back bad memories: except pleasant dreams of forestry, fauna, snakes, lions, and a pool: a puddle to rest together in, ebb and flow as blankets and singing sand as pillows: the pillow whispers into our ears secrets that have been passed on by currents and travelers, the floor of the World has heard and seen much, and the pillows pass on the feet its felt and the movements its made, our bodies wrinkling and compressing and stretching with every truth and lie from corals and clouds: skyblue mistakes as we kiss with open mouths, there are frogs in my throat, bees in my hair, brine in my eyes, wherever the tide takes me, I run away into these pools, mossy returns and powerful hues


~ciao, amore, mi vida, mijn schaatje <3

he said I was a beautiful person, the most beautiful person he knows; the last thing I'd ever expect him to say to me, the one thing I'd never thought he'd say or mean, but he said it and I felt electricity o


and he didn't want to let me go, when I tried to pull back slightly, his arms would hold tighter and I laid my wet cheek on his chest: when he said it that way, I believed him, please don't let those words be empty: say it with the weight, I will choose to believe you've said it with weight:

well what about me!
I couldn’t stand to be around that and see that!
I had to run up the trap, run into my chair — pouting a bit. but when it’s with me, just me, I get none of it! stone faced and nothing — what’s the real one? I pout at my chair, dangling my feet, can’t stand to be near it sometimes — I will accept it but sometimes it hurts little angel’s heart.

I understand it, don't you?
When he's daddy, blue daddy, he can be a bit strict and a bit firm,
but little angel takes this not so well. She's used to strict and firm meaning that she will get left and abandonded — but our daddy he isn't like that. He is safety, strong, and secure: he just wants to make sure we're okay, make sure that we can survive: be safe when we're alone and fine when we're alone, you know, he's got you in his pocket, you don't just have to feel afraid. You know, he takes care of his own: he loves you, don't forget it every day. Oh, it is , oh, alarming, oh, to think of this away  oh , oh  , oh . Oh, daddy       , kiss my nose! He held my hand, in the park, while I drifted away because I was tiny ,little, little tiny, a small one, an angel , waiting for him and feeling shy: shy of what? of all those other bears, my eyes heavy, my head heavy, my eyes turn to nothing new:

It was all right — natural, flowing, one sequence to the next, smooth transitions ;

our bodies moved in harmony

our warmths under a blanket
the morning sun dampened by the brown curtains
his breath and my breath
hands open on one breast and his mouth suckling the other breast
my hands up by my cheeks
fate, destiny, love, and home

he flicks his tongue and o’s his mouth around
switching between each breast when satisfied
his hard member grinding against my thigh and the mattress
we move in motions, deep breaths at the same time, closed eyes, sensations and imageries of the other and of the feeling
squeeze and ******, moan and breathe, up and down

I paw at his underwear, his sprung tent hard against my flower, my juices flow down my thighs; now he’s inside me, hard and long and thick,
and we move and he plants his seed inside me
I feel his member pump his seed inside me

his seed and my juice create a divine nectar
**** and a hint of sweetness, nectar,
thick and smooth and creamy, from the
fruits and harvest of our love

there's my daddy, I look up at him, his tall frame, with large eyes andcurious eyes, putting my head in his chest, let him hold me, let him kiss me, when my man loves me

Thank you God for showing me: I believe it, now, I think —
     I see where his mind became wet with lust and his groin ached of light: those paintings,

I now see what he meant and where he meant, and why I’ve always lost. Perhaps I’ll always lose.

Now, maybe, I can separate myself a little bit. Stare into the water and the heide, instead of into another person: maybe this is the way. The way to really become art, to be nature, to stay alive.

Sometimes you just need the right people, the right person. Finally, I have that. The right people. The right person. I have the right people. With him and his mother, I finally felt I belonged.

In his garden, in the kitchen, going up the stairs, into the kelder: In his mother's house, in the house of his childhood and young adult years;
at the kitchen table, she looks at me tenderly with a smile and then at her son, the love of my life, with an even softer smile; somehow proud, somehow seeing their ups and downs, somehow bitter, somehow sweet — in the house he grew up. In his old bed together, where he felt safe to be home, where he felt safe in my arms as his home and his house as his home;

this is where he bloomed, where he was held back, where he was a boy and where he became a man: in my arms he can become a boy again and become a man again, in our home, in his home:

this has been the scary choice, the uncomfortable choice, the unknown choice, but most of all the right choice. He has been the right choice. We were both apprehensive, uncertain, doubtful, insecure, and I, even scared; but we have made the right choice— the choice we both stay with for life.

his flustered face as I pranced around the forest with my bre asts out and bouncing in the dark, damp wind of the forest: dark green tranced around us and a meekish boy-like smile on his face as he'd grasp my brea sts with his hands and stare at me with his earth-brown eyes, smiles in his eyes and with his eyes, the smell of the forest as I skip and bounce him deeper into this isolated place: wind, breeze, grass rustling and howling: birds leap around us in song, and I let my breas ts dance among the mints, junipers and pines: he laughs and bashfully turns red, wandering along with me in the peace and isolation of the dim, green, and resting forest: my kind of afternoon, all I can think is what a man I prance with, I spin with — near the end of our dance among the woods, he sighs that sigh again: that sigh of satisfaction, of happiness, of love: breathing love into the air around we, the air we breathing of love life boosting: I stoop into the chapel, getting on my knees in the middle of the floor, thanking the maker of Theotokos for this wonderful life and daily mind for we get: have, him, in me, with me: inside me — a smile and a lily pad and an African nymph and a Germanic druid

scribble ripples in my heart,
something about the distance, the barrier, the isolation, something about the alienness: the longing, the desire, the bitterness, the joy, the laughter, the tears, the warmth:

how do I think one thing, how can I see one thing but then it's also on someone else? why can't I handle both of these things?

to cry and sleep in the grass
to die in the ocean
it feels ungrateful to be upset, it feels ridiculous to have these feelings

why does it feel like I'm -- i can't erase my feelings, i can't erase these words or thoughts: they've been into the void and into the ocean, into the world, some world, my world or others, a world. it's been in a world. somewhere, screaming, echoing, bouncing, being, like : to be like my words: I'd love to be like my words, winning or losing to being then dreaming: a floof in nature, respondent on nothing,  grappling onto whatever people or  a kind grapples me too: to string and bend and break and be any which way: a word, as a word, let me be as a word, as a construct, let me be as vague as a vague can be: am I failing? am I flailing? how can I say it? I'm having trouble working, I'm having trouble being here: I'm in trouble, I have troubles: without troubles, without power: without tears to come out, without aim, idling then failing: how to get my mind there --> in the wij, in the velt, something else tickles me very well: my own body, vexation, do you see the plume of awareness: please let me know if you decide to remain aware, if you decide for your excitement to slowly increase: a lazy smile with lazy eyes and blemishes on your body and an old mildew smell, peeling, wheeling: together, a peloton . . . huh, a peloton, outside, binnen en buiten: did you think of that? where those grasses are? could I float that way? to float along in the grass: but with my ears covered, my eyes covered, my nose covered: with all of it covered, really, to be important then visualize: than to visualize, really, I mean, without respect for You or me, then the naturous green, or really, gray clouds float by: anything going to die? anything out there about to die? who else just died? who else just became guilty? bird death? the flies? all those flies?

to **** myself, to dream myself, to reborn again, new, to change it again: how can this mend the broken skin I put into myself? mill=knives==>pain could quickly adopt this: kicking me out, I hope not: should know better than to self-harm around these white walls. a ***** place, I'd need a ***** place, similar for a being like me: there, my unidentified blood could stain the floors and the walls, the music of my screams would seem so loud, and all my pain and ghosts and demons and darkness dance around me in a circle, mocking me, lulling me to sleep, starving me of oxygen, cheating me, all the taunts and pain and they bite at me, kick at me, **** and **** on me, they do it all to me, they stone me, they r ape me, they torment me, they lick me, they even decide once, just once, to kiss me gently: all the hurting resembles a great pen is, an ***** bulging pe nis and then round globe-like br- easts that have spider veins and is lactating: a full thick beard and long black curly hair: a knife in its hand, flesh glistening and rough at once, matte and ******: sleek and sinewy of muscles: stomping me, trampling me, where it thought about it all the time:

they can't see me in here. no one can see us in here.

can't you take me anywhere, please? I don't mind: why do you mind? why is it just me? why is it just me who wants it? who wants to be without all these? is it because I never had it?

Hé laughs and he stares at me with jolly eyes and a wide smile, silhouetted by the full summer darkness, large toothy smile and slight pink in his cheeks — rubs my arms, softly and gingerly, then rubs my little brown chin with his thumb — sparkles, joy, laughter, and smiles haloing around us.

Why do I get green eyes> <?

<My eyes are brown,><so why do they become so green<...>>?<<Tell me >. . . < where is the reason for these jealous eyes>?< . . .> There(')s just one reason I[']m longing to hear > .. > something to see > . . . < where will it be? I'm a little lamb who<'>s still just walking>;><;<why can|'|t these years be much longer? To my heart >,> these years last a lifetime >. >


                                                           ­         When I die because I|'|m old and it/'/s time {...} Please let me kiss these times goodbye <, . >

                             Can you tell these moments(,) please (,) to pause on their speed (?) Slow down for me (. . .)

this morning I rolled out of my blankets
onto his level, "Here .. comes ... the monster!"
sliding perfectly into his arms, into his lichaam,
fitting him better than his favorite shirt,
legs tied and faces nuzzled into the other's neck,
the birds sing near us with soft and high lullawakes,
dreamily and dazily in landscapes of idyllic waves,
dreaming of dark jungles, rain, and outstretched tendrils
curls to flow down your neck into the soft glintering morning
sun dampened by the tuin-huis vensters,
kun je zie *** schoon de zomers zijn?
kun je zie *** schoon Belgie nu zijn?

Do you ever listen to the sounds your stomach makes? What about the sighs and groans of a man when waking? Do you remember a time your body felt so heavy? Can you imagine frost decorating your arms?

Pretend you're feeling the burning bite of a winter's curse — feel the cooling sensation of hot water evaporating from your skin in an August's high heat. Take more of your smiles and sew them into another's face, another's fate — waves crash towards a aan-falling-het tower.

I'd ride the billows of your breath. I'd climb the thick vines that blossom from your pores, that bloom from your skin. I'd nuzzle against your jaw to soften me —  

to see your eyes soften when you look at me, to see your eyes light up when I walk in a room, to see your eyes light whenever I run up to you after you get home from a long day at work, I'd never beguile . . .

the wildest dreams, the charms, the memories . . . it's enough for me to question if I'm doing too much —  enough to make me question my ability and existence as a woman, a human, a being, a girl —I'm just a little girl.

To flutter, to bloom, to sparkle like glitter in the sea . . . to shine like two rotating eyes in the sky. Why can't I forever shimmer and glisten endlessly? Flashing and blinking and twinkling then burning then dying then no one would know that I was there.

The perfumed taste fills my mouth like a gas cloud: refusals to take another breath, refusing to look at you and see the things you think.

That's what she said: the sweet woman, Marian, that I'm "kinderlijke". Chocolates, sea sponges, coffee, and a sunny day in Antwerp.

On the train there, my man looked towards me to tell me how I’m many things to him: he can experience raising me, a child in a woman’s body, a human being tumbling forward like he is.

On the train home, I'd look towards my man to kiss me and me to rub him: gentle like the wind, burning like gin, stringing along like pearls on a vine.

Vanity wiggles beneath some pageless books,
                             gripping to branches like a leaf that falls behind trees,
a small sweetly life-giving and life-bearing Ladybug presses her ******* against a branch,
                                         to cling to the otherside, the by-side of a branch.
That gritty underneath that rocks and floods, taking overwhelmities and disparities against her.
                                  Shakes as if an oval, rectangularly boven the nose and eyes:
did she take it to the grave? We mean, when she died, did she take it to the grave?

                The quick struggles and shadows that manifest from your heart;
                                 did you mean to do that?

Swiftly wafting and waddling, wading and zweten,
like the wheat and weeds that – not tumbling – but merely relax into the waves of the wind.

To be someone who says “Yes,” to life: –?

Then to softly press my feet into the Earth and take a step forward,
then repeat, and into the canopied tree-bruges do I go . . . / | \

A door, a portal, like no other, into a room and world of freedom and magic.

Maybe it's what I like: what I need: what I’ve always longed for

Thoughts float in and outside
feelings bubble and roll over
I stay close to the edges and feel
defeat and discouragement: the happiness
and warmth that came into my mind,
the sunshine and safety that spilled
onto my sleeves, wafted towards the sky
in piles and furls towards the bright Eye,
now the darkness grips onto then
stains my cheeks and I waft
in between a deep dark sea

murky waters, restless waves and forgiven clouds,

resting until I float to a shore
without n-sides and o/sides
without anyone without you
without myself without the world
only this body floats without action
no danger no safety
without mind without eyes

Sometimes he makes it feel all like child’s play
— everybody needs a little time, I wonder
when I’d get to shine? Can you show me my worth to you, my value to you, in more ways than one?

those sinking feelings well up in my eyes,
coffee sliding down my throat,
a crescendo of musical imagery responds into my ears then to,
where I'd long to be humming and away from the world,
touching grass and rolling grass,
seeing grass and feeling grass,
bending grass and rubbing grass,

my mind a building: sketched out plans, approved blueprint,
plank by plank, drill and drill: et monde, de maand van mijn leef,
have you seen it too? where is my lens? i can't see without my lens,
the lens you use to watch:

these feelings bubble up, internally screaming: scrubbles scribbles rubles reply and echo back to each other, my chest tightens with screams and shrieks and shouts: words want to lighten up the wall, hunched over chest: a way to cry, a way to scream, a way to die

if I could, I'd wander by the water, dipping my toes in, dipping my feet in, resting, I want to rest, always feel tense, my shoulders on guard: but she'd never understand

gauge out of my eyes if you must, let me unsee the dreams of others: new fresh eyes put into mine, resting by your ways, the dream: forging your own path, in your dream: weaving into a language like yours, because of your dreams: how to detach,

how to unsee

and today he said I was his soulmate
so I told him everything I hid
I told him about the hexing,
the loving, the rituals, and the nails,
the gris-gris and the oil,
and the way I collected some of his hair

I thought he would be disturbed
I thought he would be creeped out
but instead he gave me an ear to ear smile
and I'm not sure if that's concerning or not

But I do know we're in love
and I do know he's mine and I'm his

Today he spoke to me so gently, with such tenderness.

He spoke with a devotion that rattled in the depths of me, weaving around my bones and joints to bend me and move me as if a flower stem.

Grappling on a trellis as a vine, morning glory petals fly out of his mouth and into my hands as his tender voice, his aching servitude, resonated deep within my belly:

these soft droughts create intimacy between us, creates pillows and fuzz and fluff and charm to sleep.

Perhaps for me, *** was blocking intimacy, I objectified myself with our ***.

For once, there's a man who asks me to be selfish, who asks me to think of me. He gingerly says he'll never leave me.

For once, I think I'll be a bit selfish and he might love me more for it.

sometimes I want to be mad at him
but he makes me want to run into his arms
makes me want to grab his cheeks and press my lips against his
makes me want to press his body against the wall and stare into his eyes
his brown eyes, rub his beard with my fingers, look at him with
adoration in my eyes, let my eyes soak him up, let him soak in the love from my eyes: I never want to let him go a day without a drop of my love again, I never want to deplete him of my adoration again,
let him bathe in the monsoon of my love, I don't care if he never gives me anything again, I just want to dance again the way I danced with him, he might not have rhythm, but he has soul, and I want to press against him, let him put both hands into my curls and smile at me,
let him kiss me on the forehead and rub his nose against, don't let him pretend and don't let him lie, let him kiss my neck and give me his love, let me soak in his love please, let him feed his love into my mouth, drip it onto my tongue like a snowflake tumbling onto a child's tongue, pink roads and loud crowds,

i'm a drama queen
and i'm extremely blessed to have a husband
who is this understanding about me and
is this patient with me and loves me as much as he does in his own way

I can live for myself now
I can do these things for myself
for Acacia, no one else
I’ll never let myself live for someone else again
I’ll never let anyone else be my purpose ever again

I will never ever be so weak again
this will be the end of an era.

never ******* mind

i need new friends, i need new people in my life, because that wasn’t cute at all.

gonna mind my business and carry on with my life.

I hate you

it's always painful at first
and I give in because I'm just a silly girl at heart
sent him a message even though I told myself I wouldn't until Saturday
but I don't care I don't care I made my decision that it was stupid
Who cares, I don't care

another ritual at midnight now

my hair
a piece of my skin
a photo of you
and collected pulled hair

together in fabric
bundled with southern wormswood,
spikenard, and adam and eves root
come to me oil and moans from our love

tied together with a red string
with a white string
with a green string
because yellow and blue is green
because me and you is green

i wave it in incense
i feed it with my power
my energy surrounds its energy
feeding its energy and making
its energy stronger

perform for my lover and i
do your deed that i’ve spoken
into your lips, do it swift,
and do it quick
thank you

but truly how can I know?
I’d like for you to long for me
I allow you to make me your object of desire
don’t go back on those words, please,
do it — keep me in your sights, in your realm,
don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me, just make me
the apple of your eye—

link to the song i sang: https://soundcloud.com/pescelavandula/isolated-song-drop/s-DootdVmh169?utmsource=clipboard&utmmedium=text&utmcampaign=socialsharing

lyrics:

in the last park...

cut me up!
eat me for breakfast!

i can be your lunch, too, in a sandwich if you want
you can grill me in a pan on your stove or
dessert, be your chocolate and coffee too
don't you know i wanna be everything to you
let me be enough for you

icansatiateamanlikeyou
icansatiateaboylikeyou
inyourdreamsi'­llbetheretooyeah
inyourdreamsi'llbetheretoo
andinlittledreamsiwas­there

back and forth, back and forth, cut my fingers UP!

Back and forth, back and forth BACK AND FORTH, back and FORTH!
back and forth, back and forth, back and FORTH, back and

SATIATE YOUR THIRST
I CAN QUENCH YOUR THOUGHTS
BE THERE IN LOW LOVE
TAKE ....

dear diary

what do i want right now? to cry and run to him. i wish i could run to him and cry in his arms, and what i really wish is that he'd kiss me when i cry. i really wish he'd treat me like his own then, when i'm breaking down.

but things have split in two in my mind again and i can't tear the world apart because of it. i don't know how to reconcile this water and oil in my mind. black and white thinking again, splitting again. i'm trying to control it and i'm trying to think over how to logically approach this situation. so what did i do? i ran away until the weekend. what else can i do?

if i tried to do anything else, it'd result in him and most others being tired of me, being drained of me, telling me i'm being manipulative or a problem. i don't want a therapist because i feel it'll take away something core of me. what i mean is, sharing and letting my best friend know everything is personal. but a therapist is that middle man where my partner won't be my rock anymore. i guess that's okay for most people.

i guess a therapist is needed for me because no one else wants to make me their problem, no one else wants to handle me. and that's fine, i'm not anyone's problem. the only people who had real responsibility over me, failed me. both of them. and now, i'm left to fend for myself and look to the guidance of someone who, who doesn't love me the way a parent could.

the point is, i've split again. i clenched my fist and closed my eyes. i wasn't going to yell at him, put accusations on him, or curse at him. i can't do that to him, i can't lose him. i can't hurt him that way. but i could feel what it was doing to me already.

the happy star eyes i had are now lifeless. the rainbows and sunshine  the world was became dull. my mind was already saying horrible things, even mean things. but i couldnt explode on him

i decided to run away for a little because i didn't want to give him strain or stress. i know he says me hiding from him he doesn't like, or me holding things in is what stresses him

but it seems he doesn't get it because even when i do express these things, they get him annoyed, it gets him upset and angry. that's not his fault, and that's not invalid. i understand it because i know that feeling. it just means i need to learn to think and control my emotions. i struggle very much to control my emotions. i don't want to take space or hide like this. i don't want that. i don't want him to scream at me or have a yelling match with me. i don't want him to yell at me. i just don't want him to give up on me.

but so many things hurt me. how can i not think i am the problem? everyone tells me it's me. anthony even told me i was his problem. my mom tells me i am her problem. my dad told me i was his problem. my lover tries not to tell me i am, but how can he not see it?

i'm so grateful for him, and grateful he chooses our love. it just always circles back around the same issues i have is all.

i guess i do equate his physical affection with love, sometimes.
still, time after time, i come back to my issues, to my problems, and i just think "how can i stop them?" how can i let go? how can i not make life hard for others? i think about others so much. i recently did something for myself, i put a boundary between me and anthony because it affects me very much.

as a way to spare others the hurt i can cause and the stain and stress i can cause ... i will retreat. on behalf of the man i love dearly, i'll retreat for a little as to not put strain or stress on him.
to teach myself a lesson about these feelings. i need this lesson in temporary detachment.

i don't want to get rid of little angel, i don't want her to go. but today i'm considering killing this part of me, killing my inner child, little angel. she's misunderstood. she's misunderstood because she's part of me and she is carefree, happy, silly, funny, loving, and caring. she's just who i am when i don't worry, when everything's okay.

but she's sensitive and moody, and she gets so hurt. i get so hurt.

i need to detach. i pray he won't give up on me, he won't run away from me. please don't be far away. i ask he waits for me.

what the little girl asks for is to be his star, just a bit, just for some time

this is their reward.

this is my punishment.

sick and tired of these feelings, of the way that i feel — i’m always dreaming and it’s never for real. for this, i have to take my life in my own hands. i have to be the one i want and the one i need. i can’t rely on someone else anymore. things are changing in me and stirring even more. i don’t want this sad song in my sweet heart, i don’t like that i want love and attention. but because of this i have to change. i have to be stronger. i have to protect and nourish the flowers within me. i can’t allow the actions and words of anyone, anyone, to ever get to me ever again. i won’t let myself feel this way ever again. i won’t allow it.