It was nice in the way it felt quiet
even with the roar of the wind.
I had no choice but to wrap my arms
around him and lay my head on the back of his shoulder.
He smelled good.
I noted that it would be a memory I would think about when my hair turns gray.
I used to ride on the back of a motorcycle with a guy, and smoked joints in the woods.
It wasn’t even that it was romantic,
it felt sweet.
Gentle and kind like this man I was trusting with my life.
We’ve come and gone into each other’s lives but that feeling of comfort is always there.
I always have been.
I knew from a young age that the world
was cruel and unfair and I never wanted
to be a part of it.
I never saw myself being part of it.
Until he came along and made me feel safe
like he would protect me from
whatever the great IT is I’m afraid of.
I don’t like to admit that I am so familiar
with fear, so I pretend to be brave.
But I’m scared.
I woke up angry.
None of this is right.
It’s all wrong.
I’m done with the universe *******
giving me little hits of serotonin
only to end up smashing my face
in the dirt.
So I dealt with it the only way anyone with the same blood as me knows how.
I stopped by a gas station at 9:30 in the morning
and grabbed 2 shots of liquor.
I downed the first one and a big swig of the next.
I’m sitting in the lobby of my therapist’s office
waiting to tell her how ****** everything has been since last I saw her.
Sorry my breath smells.
“I keep picturing you looking at yourself
in the mirror and hating everything you see.”
Maybe he knows me better than I thought.
Because when I do catch a glimpse of myself
I don’t like that girl.
Her eyes are too deep, too sad.
I have so much love to give,
and I give it to him everyday.
But he doesn't accept it or give it back.
I still try though.
I wrote him a poem and sent it to him,
just inside stuff that explains how much I miss him.
I don't expect him to even address it and
Because I have so much love to give
and I will keep giving it because I don't know
how not to.
The pair to my peach.
I can’t be one without two.
This cute fantasy world doesn’t
exist without you.
I can barely hear the foxes mreeping,
they don’t speak much anymore.
The orchard has been left unattended,
peaches left to rot on the ground.
I didn’t know it was there
until you showed me.
But I am not enough to keep it alive
You make me feel so ******.
I don't know why I deal with it.
There is something wrong with me that I
keep doing this painful dance with you.
Lately you've been even farther away than you
already are in Florida.
It feels like lying, sneaking, and ghosting.
But I cant understand why.
Honesty is all we have in a relationship that
doesn't even involve seeing each other but...
I don't think honesty has been here for a long time.
I see you drifting farther out to sea,
and I can't hang onto you.
It hurts too much but maybe so would letting you go.
There’s a version of me somewhere
that is a little goth princess.
Or as a fairy somewhere pretty.
Like a bumblebee just floating along.
Or as country as a scarecrow,
homegrown and strong.
Or maybe I’d live in the city,
turtlenecks and glasses and coffee.
Hopping the train to work at the newspaper.
Or maybe I could try to like me.
A girl who’s not really a girl anymore,
and is completely lost.
Who knows who she’ll be.
I already know I won’t get to ask.
At least not until later tonight,
because he won’t text me back until about 1 maybe.
It’s 11:14 right now.
By the time I hear from him I’ll be so relieved
just to get a response that I’ll chicken out.
I also don’t want to make him mad with that question as soon as he gets off work.
But my mind is spinning and sinking and I’m freaking out and I started drinking 30 minutes ago because I don’t know what else to do.
I’m prepared for him to say no.
But god I hope he says yes.
I want to trust him but my brain is telling me not to.
I’m scared because he could easily lie to me
or hide stuff from me and I’d never know.
He’s thousands of miles away and sometimes
He’s sweet and sometimes I don’t know what’s going on.
It’s making me feel crazy.
Suddenly I’m not even sure I’m his girlfriend.
He said the word best friend the other night but then he’s also said we’re together.
I don’t know. I need to ask him but he’s at work for the next 2 hours.
I Can’t wait that long.
And what if he says no. What does that mean. That suddenly he’s changed his mind because of someone else?
I used to have interaction on here but for the past 6 months my account has had zero.
No one is seeing my writing. Please help
I wish I could be with you while the world is on fire.
Right after you left it all went crazy.
Maybe it was the universe screaming out that this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.
We need each other.
Your mom said you’ll be with me forever and I hope she’s right.
If we can make it while we’re thousands of miles apart, we could make it hand in hand again.
I’ll always love you
Stumbling upon something unexpected
and beautiful when you’re out in nature
I think brings to light what really matters.
It makes you feel small, compared to the giants that have been built with time.
It was there before you, and it’ll be there after you.
So whatever is going on inside your head that feels enormous, suddenly shrinks.
It doesn’t go away, but it’s not as painful..
Last night I dreamed I was holding onto you,
I could feel my arms losing you as
my eyes fluttered awake.
I missed you immediately.
I wish you were here
I never expected to feel you with me when you left.
I didn’t think texting and talking on the phone would keep us close.
But when I get a text, I feel happy.
When the X-files theme song begins to play I can’t cut it off quick enough and answer.
It’s still there.
Even though I can’t see you,
I still love you.
I do actually pray I will see you again.
I still want our’s to be the story
that could be written as a romance novel.
I still hope that 5 years from now,
when we’re both done with college,
starting our lives for real
that you’ll think of me.
And we can finally be together.
We’d buy a cute little house,
get a cute little dog and get married.
We would travel and workout together.
Do projects around the house,
have breakfast before work at the table.
I still want that.
I thought I was gonna make
it through just one day without crying.
But the tears managed to squeeze out
of the corner of my eyes as I tried to
Sliding down my cheek and soaking
into my pillow,
leaving a black smudge from leftover
I still love him.
I’m afraid I always will.
I don’t want to let you in
because I already know how it ends.
I imagined sitting beside him.
Leaned against his shoulder,
laughing about something.
I felt like I was home again.
I don’t know how to move on from that.
I feel lonely and scared around other people
because my person isn’t there.
I don’t feel safe without him.
I had a dream about you.
I know you were there although
I can’t remember your face.
But I felt it in my heart when I woke up alone.
It was a warm spring night.
She lay on her bed, one leg half under the sheet.
She wore a teal night gown, the color her mother said matched her skin tone.
The space fan whirred in the corner,
the tv casting color into the dark room.
But it felt quiet, for once in her life.
The only voice she could hear would be her own.
So she spoke.
“It will be okay.”
Sometimes I have trouble spending time
I make bad decisions, maybe I’ll drink too much, or waste money on stupid things.
I don’t think I’m very pretty to look at
and my gut hasn’t stopped growing since
sometime last year.
I can be funny, I guess.
But I’m too sarcastic and pessimistic.
I’m not original, I can’t draw, paint, write or dance.
I don’t even have good style.
I know everyone says you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else...
But I think some ******* said that once and since it kinda sounds like Dr. Seuss we all just took it as bible.
Because I have definitely loved someone,
and treated them better than I treat myself.
I don’t know, I wish I could be someone else.
I can’t go back and read anything
I’ve written in the last year.
I don’t know if I ever will.
It makes my stomach hurt.
So I’ve kind of quit writing;
I don’t need to remember this
part of my life.
Sometimes I feel such
painful, deep sadness that I want
to scream but because I am an adult
I just scream inside my head.
That’s not crazy right?
Yeah I’m totally fine.
I went to the store today.
The frozen food aisle was a ghost town.
I saw a tumble **** roll by.
Everybody had full carts of milk, eggs, bread.
Doritos and Mountain Dew.
The essentials ya know?
I just went through the aisles and got food
that would give me comfort.
I can live off of sandwiches and sadness just fine.
I try to enjoy every moment I can,
even the ones that get under my skin
because it’s for the last time.
Hauling our ***** clothes to the laundromat,
and struggling to find an open washer.
Getting a beer at Wings while we wait.
Going to our favorite pizza place for the 200th time;
hold the mushroom add bacon.
And then stopping at UDF for a scoop of
cotton candy ice cream.
The fight to get him to wake up to his alarm the first time it goes off, even though it usually takes an hour.
Every hug I hold for a second longer.
I don’t let go of his hand in the car.
I have cried to him and wished I could go back in time, I’d do everything differently so we would’ve lasted forever... somehow.
He said it wasn’t me, I was his favorite girl but everything comes to an end eventually.
And now is that time.
My energy likes being around yours.
Two souls bouncing around the atmosphere, who somehow found the other and it felt warm and safe.
And now I can’t remember what it was like before we met.
I’m embarrassed of my life.
I’m getting fat because I spend every dollar I make on food,
I work less than 4 hours a day cleaning toilets.
I get drunk and cry about the same **** I’ve been crying about for a year,
and can’t remember what I said the next day.
The other night I threw up into a grocery bag
My “friends” pity me because I can’t stop ******* up.
My car is a 20 year old fish bowl that was a huge waste of money,
and I had to move home at 24 because I couldn’t be responsible after getting my heart broken.
I’m still irresponsible.
I want to throw out this version of me and get the upgrade but I make myself look stupid every time I leave the safety of my bed.
Can’t someone just reprogram me instead?
I was laying in bed with the lights off watching the outline of my ceiling fan spin,
when I came clean to myself.
I mess things up, life gets too hard for me to handle sometimes and things can get bad.
Because I am mentally ill.
I almost can’t help it.
But, I don’t hate this part of me,
because it is part of me.
I am not a perfect person, I never will be and quite frankly, I don’t want to be.
I don’t always follow the rules,
I don’t just “get in line” with everyone else.
I don’t want to plan my life out.
I am happiest when I’m following the breeze, going where ever life takes me.
I don’t know what defines being successful,
other then ending up happy.
That’s what I’m gonna try to do.
I love to over indulge.
Anything I like, I want more of.
Buying one bag of gummies
has lead to buying three bags of candy
way too often
from the convenience store.
Doesn’t matter what it is though.
Drugs, fun, attention, love, ***,
Right now it’s food.
My least favorite addiction.
I start to feel big in my small jeans,
and see the rolls on my stomach double.
Once I start I can’t stop;
it’s a never ending battle to try and
fill the empty spaces inside me.
I wish I could forgive him but
I’ve realized I don’t know if that’s possible yet.
Everything that happened changed me.
It changed who I am,
turned off one of the lights inside me.
I’m dimmer now.
I just want to be loved.
How I thought he loved me.. but for real.
I can see the dark clouds disappearing,
it feels like the first sign of spring.
But I haven’t come back home yet.
I’m so close.
I’ve come so far from crying so hard I thought someone might call the cops;
in a house that belonged to the person I hated.
I did anything to try to forget or fill that empty hole in my heart.
I couldn’t eat or sleep so I replaced it with thin white lines and alcohol and that didn’t help either.
My friends had no clue what to say to me but I’m grateful that they tried.
I disassociated while my brain replayed my nightmares, so I lost my job because they saw I wasn’t there.
I texted my mom that I needed to move back in because I hit the bottom and lost everything.
But I’ve been climbing and fighting my way back up. I really thought that pain would never go away but I can finally see the sun peaking through the cracks.
I don’t want to say, “it gets better” but it does.
It took me 7 months to get here, and I still have a long way to go.
2019 was the worst year of my life. It was filled with trauma that I’m still recovering from.
It is so weird how the heart and mind
have to heal after they’re wounded, just like if you broke a bone.
It takes time, sometimes a long time.
You might start to hate yourself or take all the blame and feel like it’ll never get better.
You have to work every day to get stronger
and slowly you become more able to live a normal life.
The pain subsides after awhile and sometimes you even forget you were ever hurt.
It’s all a scientific process that I’m not smart enough to explain.
Just be patient, and brave.
This used to be a safe place to go to talk about your feelings while practicing writing. Now it’s just another form of Twitter where everyone thinks it’s okay to be hateful and nasty in the comments and have no respect for the person that is going to read them.
Like the account - charlie’s favorite
They made fun of my name, called me blind and stupid and then blocked me for asking them to not be nasty in the comments of someone’s poem. Don’t support that person
There’s a part of me that wants to close up shop when he leaves.
Hang an “Out of order” sign outside my window
and climb into the mountains to live alone like the grinch.
But I’m an eternal optimist and I like that
first date feeling.
Everything is exciting and feels brand new.
Checking to make sure there’s nothing on your face when he goes inside a gas station,
and eagerly waiting for the first kiss.
Those dumb butterflies that flutter when he texts you or reaches for your hand in the car.
I won’t shut myself off from all those things,
but I might go on vaca until I’m perfectly tanned, and I’ve had my fill of pineapple before I get back out there again.
I want you to know I have wanted to write a book since
I was 5 years old. Since I would send short stories to
Children’s magazines I would find on the back cover
of a scholastics, just hoping they might pick me.
They never did, but I kept trying until I grew old
enough to become self conscious about what I have to say.
Is it important? I still wonder that now, and often I find the
answer is no, it is not. To anyone but me anyway.
But I’m a bit of a narcissist. I know this because I have been
in the darkest depths of depression. Like at the bottom of
the ocean, hiding under a rock like a scared crab. Paralyzed with
fear, ready to stay there forever. But yet, I don’t want to die
because without me the world wouldn’t exist, and for
some reason naive hope dwells within me still.
So maybe what I have to say is important. To me.
And to you too. Guess we’ll never know until I write
I’ve had people ask me how I’m holding it
together, how can I be okay with him leaving me to live at my parents house at 24 with no money, while I struggle to make a car payment and figure out my life.
And well, I’m not holding it together.
I just cry in the comfort of my bed
or in the bathroom at work hoping customers don’t notice my red, blurry eyes.
I’ve made about 1,000 mistakes in the past 7 months that I don’t ask for help with,
because I can’t allow myself to be a burden.
Although I am because I’m a broke 24 year old living at home.
I can’t ask him to stay because he’s leaving for family, and to make a great life for himself.
There’s nothing selfish or mean about it.
I would do it too if I were in his shoes.
I know he loves me, but it’s not enough.
So, I have to pretend to be okay or I’ll waste the time we have left.
I took a photo my of my face
fresh after crying.
My cheeks still stained and wet.
Because if life really is great and mysterious,
then maybe 6 months from now I won’t
even recognize that sad girl anymore.
I hope I get to be happy.
I don’t want him to leave.
But I don’t know how to tell him.
I don’t think I ever will.
He’ll just disappear from my life forever,
and I’ll just have to move on..
If that’s possible.
I don’t want him to leave.
I don’t know much.
Maybe nothing at all.
But I know I love him.
He is this warm, October light
that makes me feel good
and without him things just don’t
seem to go right.
I don’t know what’s going to happen
to me in a week, let alone a year;
but I hope he’s there
because that means things will be okay.
It’s hard to be a human.
To make the right choice,
or do the right thing.
It’s even harder when you love someone.
It’s hard to be happy with simplicity.
At least for me.
It’s hard when your dreams feel
so big and impossible.
Like that bright star you see when you’re driving at night. The one that stands out from the others.
It’s too far away, so you can’t grab it.
Instead you think about how beautiful it would be if it could be yours.
Some day that star will burn out,
turn into dust or maybe nothing at all
just like me.. but I still want it.
I couldn’t eat for
My appetite just disappeared.
I lost weight really fast.
My belt became too big.
Usually food is my comfort,
I have spent many many nights
getting to the bottom of a bag
or having just one more slice.
So when the idea of food became
nauseating and my stomach just stopped
growling, it was weird.
I have never experienced heart break
It really is as bad as all the sappy poems say.
When you’re broken, even your favorite food
can’t comfort you.
I feel like I’ve been having
an identity crisis lately.
I’m living in past memories,
and blocking out the bad parts.
I’ve been ignoring the passage of time
because it’s going so fast
and frankly, I’m terrified for the future.
I miss my apartment,
and my boyfriend, my old job
and my friends.
My phone doesn’t even recognize me
anymore because I don’t look the same.
My hair is thin and torn out,
I have huge dark circles under my eyes
and my body looks fatter.
Why does everything have to fall apart?
I feel like I’m ready to give up
to be honest.
I just dealt with the hardest year of
my life and it was all for nothing.
Once he’s gone I’ll have nothing.
I am nothing.
Maybe I’ll just find a decent, boring man
and get married because it’s better than
I’ll have a kid or two because there’s
nothing else to do and it would be nice
to feel love that is actually real.
And since I’ll never see him again,
I’ll forget all about him.
Never say his name or think of his face.
Hopefully some day I won’t feel
so empty and none of this will hurt anymore.
Hopefully some day I can be okay again.
It’s like Christmas morning every time
he smiles at me.
Opening presents when he holds my hand.
Festive music plays when he laughs
at my jokes.
Mistletoe hangs wherever he kisses me.
And Santa is real when he calls me
Christmas comes just once a year,
but for me it’s every day I’m with him.
My soul knows you’ll be leaving soon.
Off to the land of palm trees and a salty ocean.
It’s the only thing left to do.
The other half of my heart that made
it so wonderfully full.
I think that’s why there’s an eternal
sadness stuck inside me.
It’s all worth it
even if lately it hasn’t been easy;
when he reaches for my hand and says,
“Thank you for helping me peach.”
Although he doesn’t need to thank me.
I would do anything for him.
The monsters from my nightmares
come out during the day.
When I’m wide awake and suddenly
I’m reliving the day I realized
what was going on.
Then the monsters are
attacking me and I’m crying
in pain just like the first time.
I swear I have PTSD from the emotional trauma I went through
The devil has fake red hair
because she’s too scared to accept
the beauty of time.
The devil puts off a perfect exterior,
a seemingly perfect person.
Until she ***** the love of your life
and then pretends to be your friend
the next day.
The devil is a coward who will
never say sorry.
A snowy sunrise reminds me of
holding his hand in the car.
An act I find as intimate as seeing someone naked.
Two people keeping one hand busy
holding onto each other.