I was told that the wolf you feed is the wolf that wins. I wasn't told that the wolf I starved would gnash at my upper left ribs and rattle me like a little *****. It's grown impatient. It's feeding itself.
I want to snap it's neck and strip it.
I want to burn it's remains and keep its teeth as a trophy; but there's no trophy if there's no champion and there's no champion if there's no fight and how the **** do I fight something that's inside me.
I was told that the wolf you feed is the wolf that wins. I wasn't told that there is only one wolf.
It started with a polite knock just above the stomach - but got impatient after being ignored, and anxiously barged in. He put up a good fight in an attempt to sabotage its journey up the throat but failed dismally. He clenched his jaw but couldn't prevent it from smashing through his teeth. His spine shivered. He was mortified by the terror that had escaped him.
"I love you.", he whispered.
I wrote this 8 months ago the night I told my then girlfriend I loved her for the first time. We split up recently and I understand why I was so afraid back then.
It never ceases to amaze me how you can be both a blessing and a curse.
Catalyzing the flourish of a relationship then infecting it with a slow killing cancer.
I'm sure it amuses you, building someones endorphins before crushing them when you feel they've experienced enough to be addicted and beg you for more.
Constantly blitzing forward.
Incapable of taking a step back despite how much I plead.
Like some linear cellphone game; but instead of restarting when I can’t jump over, you phase through the obstacle, forcing me continue at your pace whilst tending to my wounds.
And once they’ve finally healed and I become capable of keeping up with you, you introduce a larger obstacle - and I’m ****** again.
Are you angry at how you can't move backwards? Is that why you're always ******* with me? Or are you able to, but savour the taste of my tears when I cry for you to do so? Or is it because you feel incarcerated by your immortality and have found that nothing else satisfies you?
You’ve made me realise that happiness is an illusion.
I shouldn't be such a pessimist at 17.
Time, you *******.
It gets to me seeing that you're better off without me. Or better yet, seeing how you're exactly the same as you were with me. It ***** how that proves that I had no impact on your happiness and that you were never mine. Thinking about how I was just "there" is a weight on my chest that I'm not strong enough to simply lift off and put down. And in my weakness all I want to do is tell you I miss you. I ******* hate that I know your response to that will be a burden on you and will only make me feel weaker for missing someone who's mind I no longer cross.
At 00:22 6 months ago I was tearing tape off your ******* and gently bruising your collarbones. At 00:22 5 months ago I didn't care about you. At 00:22 4 months ago I'd be lying in bed while we exchanged anything that was on our minds between failed playful sext attempts. At 00:22 3 months ago my lips were touching yours but you weren't mine. 2 months ago I came to the realization that you never were.
It's 00:22 and I'm being kept awake by study drugs I shouldn't be taking and instead of reading over the Berlin Blockade I'm writing about you because these memories are it. There'll never be any more of you in my life. As much as I miss you I no longer have the feeling fueled drive to make an effort, guess that's one thing we have in common now.
It's crazy how I can ignore everything that's made me happy in your absence and neglect the newcomers that have made me feel again.
But it's 00:37 and I'm looking at pictures of you and you don't look so beautiful anymore. What I once saw as flawless, followed by what I saw as flaws alone, is just another pretty face.
It's 00:58 and the weight is gone.
But 00:22 will come again.
it came back for the first time in a while
You've starved my memories of you.
Preventing them from growing and experiencing a full life. I watched the fetus of our relationship die. I felt it decay within me. You decided to abort the child with the assumption that we'd never be able to raise it correctly, and that I shall never understand. Because whether that kid grew up to be the woman that cured cancer or the boy that died from a ****** overdose in his teens, I would have loved it with everything I had and appreciated every moment of its life.
*** did I just write.
I've been driving past your house everyday for the last five years. It's strange how meeting someone can **** up your drive home from school.
I stared to think what I'd been doing that was so wrong. Thinking of ways to improve myself to get her attention in order to make me happy.
Trying not to be myself.
What a ******* idiot I was, thinking that myself was incorrect, just because I wasn't "right" for whom I desired.
I wish I could control what I desire, or change what you desire, but if I had those abilities then I guess I wouldn't be writing this.
I spiraled into a wormhole of overthought and got spat out at the bottom of an ocean. I thought about drowning for a second. My body had to battle my psyche before forcing it grant my legs the power to kick towards the surface.
I don't know exactly how to wrap this up but by having to escape from my thoughts in order to breathe I realized that trying not to be exactly who i was so i could find happiness was a ******* contradiction, because it distracted me from everything else that made my cheeks touch my eyes before. Content when i was simply just being myself.