so intense it moves from my body to yours
finally you understand
finally, finally, i made something for myself.
because when you're waiting for the right moment you're usually waiting on someone else.
replacing the words should, could, and want is at the top on my agenda. for now, for later, i'll feel better, if i do this. i feel literal. i feel analytical. i feel hard pressed. words come to me in a linear line with the beginning, middle and ending. is that why life feels a little confusing scrubbing through the timeline
finished watching my show and it seems to end perfectly. not sure how movies and shows tell me everything i need to know but im glad they do. the rest is learned from experiences. do i really have something to tell to people? if you're making something you must. and with every piece that you make you give a little part of you away. but you also take a little piece of something else.
is this how i feel or is it how im supposed to feel. i hope to understand the difference fully. it takes time. im supposed to use my senses to feel things to calm the nonstop talking in my head. its working. i feel the ridges of my two front teeth. the keys im pressing feel smooth. i think i smell the lemon from my dinner and i hear the ac, my show, a small hum, room tone.
its been a while since i felt that way
i guess when i check socials it feels like i need someone to tell me im doing something right, well, correct, even if it comes in the form of a like, share, comment. what im really craving is someone to give me real advice, real compliments, real talks. its easy to cover one up with the other, but it is not easy to confuse. i know i can see the difference clearly.
today i thought about literally doing anything and everything that comes to mind once i get my camera. i think its time to put some importance to my thoughts and stop worrying about if its the right thing to think. putting together puzzle pieces takes a few tries. a little time. some rotations. stepping away for a little. new point of views shouldn't scare you.
ok update everyone! convinced myself i might have type 2 diabetes for the night because my uncle died of it when he was 40 and i was 4. i can't remember age 0-4 and i think it might be because it was so traumatic to loose someone that cared about me that instead i erased the fact a person ever existed. i used to think that if something happened to you when you were young it doesn't count because you would be too young to even remember it. its 20 years later and i am starting to remember. remembering hurts.
you're probably nicer to the people you talk **** about than you are to me
it takes me a few tries to write something good about myself. but im still trying.
it takes me all of a few minutes to write something demeaning everything about myself, fully thought out, complete. zero seconds to write my first letter, it is almost immediate.
it takes me a few tries to write something good about myself. but im still trying.
i get a call from you and you want something from me. i get a call from them and they just want me to come home. it is impossible to be in two places at once but i try anyway and end up nowhere at all. two unhealthy attachments and they seem impossible to break. and you're enabling bad behavior everywhere you look. white girl. white girl. white girl. they say you're the problem and you are but what do you do when you like it because you're conditioned to like it. a comparison is the worst compliment you can give me.
ive decided that if i write a self critical poem then it must be followed by something hopeful I've realized recently. its 2020 and i feel like ive finally watched a movie that can articulate how i think about things. its like ive been trying to find the words and someone finally said them the way i'm thinking about them. i can finally breathe out. in a good way. if i can use movies to make sense of things, thats a good thing. if i can use photos to make sense of things, thats a good thing. when i act on that i feel better. i can follow through.
its takes 15 steps forward just to catch up with the others. i misplaced the words that came out of your mouth. i thought you said death, but you said debt. they aren't so different either way but i feel like an idiot. while i feel very lost at least i don't feel stagnant. feeling changes has to be a symptom of something.
the last song that I listened to plays on default in my head. It fills the space between my last thought and my next. I told you I missed you but how could I when I can't even express how I feel about you. It is confusing. I count the hours when I'm with you but dream about spending time with you. It is being a shell of a person. I say shell because I am still strong on the outside. It is not simply a layer that you peel back. Not something you poke and ****. It is something you break with a baseball bat and it hurts.
i closed my eyes at 8:30. Woke up again at 10. Told myself to work on things instead of just laying in bed. Laid there and went in and out of sleep. Checked the clock. 10:40. Go to bed. Work on something. Go to bed. Loose consciousness. Check again. 11:35. Put on a show. Turn off the lights. Try not to think. Try not to think. Try not to think. Check again. It must be morning. 4:10. A show is still playing. Although the season finished and something else started playing. My eyes hurt.
connection is the easiest thing to achieve in the world. clarity is what gets to me. i cannot say a single word out loud. if i could just finish that sentence. the one that i wrote last week. I already talked about it with whoever lived in my head at the time. a day later, they vanish. we talk about unnecessary places, but i can't remember their name.
last year, that was important.
this year, this is important.
think before you speak might be the worst thing ever said.
the intensity just comes off so so so annoying
i hate trying too hard
can i not try at all
everything you do seems effortless im trying to get back to that
dont text dont text
words never came out of my mouth correctly
but you came on my back and never left
id rather have come on my fingers
i write all at once. with little edits. no going back.
only one half baked idea after another.
the text was sent, i lit up. another was sent. i turned over to my side and looked at the wall for an extended amount of time. instead of responding i created new ideas in my head. places i would rather spend time in. versions of people that didn't exist, that always understood me. there were some that made me happy, some that made me sad, so sad, i cried. these people weren't real? why did i feel more towards them. i fell back asleep and when i woke up i felt clear headed. i responded to that text. i knew what i wanted.
i keep to myself for reason i cannot explain
i do not feel comfortable
but i don't want to make you unhappy
that is the toughest part
i am most upset with myself for not being honest
for saying the next time will be the time i come clean
now everything is so messy
i feel like its better to leave it as is
and go back to being alone rather than try to tell you now,
i can't even envision what would happen after that
Glad we could get that out in the open now. I'm....sorry if it seems like im uninterested but actually I... I think I might be in love with you. And, I know thats a really big thing to say. But I mean it...Then again, I fall in love with the weeds that are growing through the sidewalk cracks, or that random cd at goodwill that you think might change your life if you just had a cd player to listen to it. God, I need to stop trying to so hard."
"I wish I could just know what you want"
she writes in a haze and everything makes sense. if i was on ssri's i might take the risk over feeling like this. nevermind that was stupid to say because how can you know when you've experienced it. find a way to survive soon or this is gonna be a little bit messy.
i left all my tears in my bed the other day, i hate when my face scrunches up and i told you i cant think out loud. i saw a cherub on the telephone pole outside my house and they told me i should take a second guess. life is exactly what you see. try not to think so reversely.
thought about the sidewalk leading up to your house
the lightning bugs we caught along the way
the stairs up to the door
the blanket that rested on the couch
the pans in the sink
the tv in the shaded room
the statues in the backyard
the tomatoes we used to pick
the basement i was scared of
the filled up washing machine
the upstairs rooms filled with treasures
the secret door that lead to no where
i miss that house
i miss you more
im sorry i wasn't there to say goodbye
too little too much, i write next to you, your shoulders touch me , but you would never touch me. i heard the music starting to spike, i wish i could rewrite, the way we met, so it was just in my head. it was worth it, around 80 degrees, overworked every time, the ac went out last week. i see straight up, i decided the ceiling looked better, when the floor fell out, from under you.
when i read everything i write, it all seems so ridiculous. where are the real problems? have you ever been through anything ever or is loosing someone due to your own fault the biggest thing you've ever had to overcome?
i wish that it was my life instead of theirs.
what does it mean when i dont want to be here anymore and other people don't even have the choice?
The blood drains from the top to the bottom on my face. There is no color. I felt light headed, but that was just the beginning of the summer. By the late months I couldn't see straight and at the end of the day magic tricks played tricks on me as the sun went down but refused to set. I saw stars. I saw **. Curious as to what took place I phoned a friend the next day. She said that I had been misinformed. She said that the blood on my sheets wasn't from the knife in my hand but was that of ----. She hung up or did I not listen? As far as I'm concerned it was never there.
the more you practice a certain pathway in your brain (i.e. thinking a positive thought instead of a negative one), the easier it gets to just do that action naturally, supposedly.
i hit delete space
back to space next
hoping to figure out what im doing without making a mess
not sure how to make connections when left and right don't make things straight. my head is on backwards, placed left of the door, where you hung me out to dry. the ***** laundry you had in your backseat was more than just the jeans, button downs that took note of the fact. the rhythm i held my high with turned out to be off beat. we havent talked in days, months, years? it seems to only have been hours. the coach wears a stopwatch and tells me that if i want to be good enough i have to connect the dots. i dont really want to go to bed, but i dont want to stay awake when ive been thinking of all the ifs, ands, coulds. All the times I used my left hand when my kneecap begged to feel the concrete.
years in one place
it takes time to mold
and shed the dead weight
i sulk in corners
i take my time
it seems impossible to not write about myself
or the lover that wasted my life
pausing time became my pass time
im glad you waited
but more importantly im glad i took it
i'm putting this back in motion
back to drive
i felt the wind shield hit my skin
and recalled the night we had
i know whats its like to not have the person you want notice what you want but baby im here right now so you better use your hands
and i guess thats why im sharing this with you now
give me what i want
texted you at 4am
sat on the kitchen counter and ate my pancakes
hoping to see the screen light up like your face
im so so far away
i created a story in my head again. that we could be together again. i forgot what you go by now. its been a few years now. you'll understand again. and ill bite my cheek out.
i like you with your clothes off and i like him with his on. i wish it didnt snow so hard in my room.
deleting the words
the circle became a triangle
three sides to me
i love when you choke me
thinking about you in a catch all
my hands keep moving but its still on
why are all these clothes still on
all i can think about while we get on
i will continue to line my playlists one by one
until the list is too long
and i can't tell the year
up from down
your tongue to my throat
cut me in half
and i spill out spotify playlists that will never last
**** me and *******
i thought everything was cool
and now i gotta throw away
all the letters that you gave me
in my head
the whole a to z baby
tell me to get out of the way
and i will or
punch me in the face
and watch me stay
constantly bleeding outside the image because im too much MAYBE
walking home in the dark always makes me trip
always saying one line too much and i wrote this with my yes closed
tips on me like i was THAT sharp
and i thought i could catch you in your sleep
all in your dreams
my hands move too fast to the beat
i cant stay off your waistline
my favorite past times
all on me
where you should be
im sorry can we bleep that last line out or