For someone who once called me their everything,
You sure didn’t seem to give a ****,
When I called you, thighs bleeding and eyes leaking
But all I got was a voicemail
At least I got to hear your voice one more time
Truth be told, I don’t want you
No, I don’t want you
Not anymore
Not like I used to
But I want you to want me
I want you to want me, but know you can’t have me anymore
Not anymore
Because you let go of the one girl that ever actually gave a **** about you,
Yes, I want you to want me like I once wanted you
So you can feel the pain that comes with karma
And one sided love.

I’m sorry,
Who did you say you thought you were?
I don’t owe you an explanation
I don’t owe you anything.
You are not entitled to a complimentary map of my mind,
And my heart,
So you can know what buttons to press,
What strings to pull?
Because you’d just love to see me unravel, wouldn’t you?
Don’t you dare ask me to give you the benefit of the doubt
Because you have already proven my initial doubts to be reality
And I am done letting people in so they can destroy me,
from the inside, out.
I do that to myself enough.
When I’m at my lowest point, don’t come to me.
I don’t want your pity
What am I, a charity?
You have no right to feel bad for me
And you have no right to be mad at me when you text me and I don’t respond
Or you say hello and I look the other way
I’m done playing these games
And I’m done trusting where trust has not been earned
I am not somebody who you can expect to just open up about things I’ve taken years myself to accept
And you’re gonna have to respect that
I’m sorry,
Did you hurt yourself jumping to conclusions?
Because I hear it’s pretty far from the truth and that ******* that just came out of your mouth,
I hope you didn't hurt your fragile ego.
Wanna talk about me to someone else?
Great, that means you know better than to act up in my space
It’s almost a disgrace
How someone can be so two faced
But if you’re gonna be two faced, at least make one of them pretty
Said Marylyn Monroe
But I don’t think you understand how that goes.
They say what goes around comes around
And I sure hope that’s true
Because if that’s the case,
Karma will be knocking at your door very soon
Haven’t you learned your lesson?
I doubt it.
People like you, never learn.

How would you like to take a walk in my shoes?
Spend a day in my life and see how you do.
Take a look at me through my eyes
And realize
When those real lies are uncovered,
You see
I am not simple.
How would you like to spend a moment in my mind?
Take notice that my thinking process isn’t one you’d expect to find
In a girl like me;
How would you like to see my life as I do?
A preacher’s daughter who has expectations sitting on her chest
I can’t breathe sometimes
And at those times everything seems to be falling
Not into place
Not out of place
Just falling
I am not deep
I don’t write for others,
I write to help myself clear out my head
Maybe tonight I’ll actually get some sleep when I go to bed?
But I doubt it.
How would you like to know me past what you think you see?
Start by walking a mile in my shoes
Instead of assuming you know me.

I may not have the privilege of support from all sides,
But I know who I am.
Maybe it hasn’t exactly surfaced,
And I admit,
There have been some times where I wondered if it’s right,
But how can finally being sure of yourself be wrong?
Yes,
I struggle with self-image
And self-acceptance
My mom looking me in the eye and telling me I can’t be sure,
Or listening to my dad lecture my sister about how it’s
Adam and Eve,
Not Eve and Amy
Doesn’t exactly help,
But in a place and a society where being yourself is only acceptable
Sometimes
If at all,
Having even a little bit of pride
Can be the difference between
Saying “***** it” and being yourself
And deciding pleasing others is more important than your own happiness
But I’m done letting others decide what’s best for me
When I’m clearly already drowning in expectations
So here goes;
I’m pansexual and **** proud
Take it or leave it,
But I'm not gonna change for anybody.

There are 3 people I need right now

One's dead

                                                                                          One wishes he was


And one's somewhere passed out, high out of his mind

And me?
I'm wondering how the hell I'm gonna continue to wake up every morning knowing she didn't.