The inconsistency.
It pushes you away
And ***** you right back
The inconsistency is a being
It’s alive as it pulses you closer
Then farther away
And even closer the next.
Intoxicating.
You forget what normalcy and relevance are
You forget the good and begin to hate
The fiery negativity floods your veins
Your thoughts, your emotions, your intentions
Until that hatred is turned on yourself
Deep corners of your soul are tainted
Gasping for air as the being consumes you,
You see the light for a moment
And all that is shown is the good
Beautiful, joyous moments are breathing
Laughing, loving, pulsating again
You relax
and remember what it’s like to love
To be loved.
The fear, the hatred, the awfulness disappears.
You breath
and life comes back.
Momentarily, your tattered soul lightens
The inconsistency is addicting.

I’d tell myself it didn’t happen
You’re not positive it happened
What facts do you have?
You have nothing,
I would tell myself.
I never had that perfect first kiss
I never saw losing your virginity as a big deal
But I was always terrified of
The kissing
The touching
The emotions
It was all creepy and always felt forced
I never felt ready
Because the first time I wasn’t ready.