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Mar 2017 · 300
Syzygy Mar 2017
Do I love you?

At night, I dream of everything we could have been.
I sleep on my side with only the moonlight framing where you could be, where you should be.

I think of every part of you as deeply as I can because even though I can't be with you in this life, I can at least console my mind and pretend I ever had a chance.

My eyes remain unfocused and dazed as I imagine you because if I ever did decide to concentrate the few fragments of you I have left in the crevices of my mind would shatter.

I hold out my hands and rest them in front of me so I can pretend that you're there and I'm holding you in the bleary distortions created by the blinds on my window.

I no longer see my hands as my own and bring the backs of yours up to my lips, which are either dry or smeared in lip balm only to be chapped but still dripping in the sunrise that would come in mere hours.

I open your palms and run my thumbs over the wrinkles and lines, massaging the softest part just above your wrist. I run my fingers over your fingers, where they meet your palms, and the lines that run along the sides of your hand and between the webbings of your skin before stopping at the tendon. You tense because you don't like your wrists. They're a reflection of darker times.

In a manner I'd typically deem over-romanticized, I place a kiss on your fingers first, trailing chaster touches down to your palms. I ask for your permission first before I kiss your scars, and I hear a soft sigh once I do so.

I pull back and meet your dark eyes, which face away from the window so a halo of light wraps around your hair. I lean forward and press my forehead to yours, the sound of our breathing syncing in the background as our noses touch.

You kiss me. But it's not the kinds of kisses you usually give me like the ones we shared in front of your friends. It's the kind I can only get in moments like this, too tender for the rest of the world to ever really understand and too precious for me to ever really explain in a competent manner.

Our lips part and I feel your hand cupping my cheek, tilting my head up slightly. I never really got over the subtle touches I'd receive from you, from the feathery skims over my collarbones to the slight squeeze I'd feel when our fingers intertwine. I think you know that.

I think you also know that this is usually where it stops. Whether I intend for it to or not.

My eyes refocus, and I quickly close them so I don't need to meet my windowsill and bedsheets that mock me. I think about what you might actually be doing now, instead.

You may or may not be sleeping, just as you may or may not be thinking about me. But I know without a doubt that you're thinking about him, and how all the things I'd love to do with you you'd love to do with him if you haven't already.

I decide to let that be the last thing in my mind as a drift off, only to be greeted by more thoughts of you as the sun rises.
Aug 2016 · 528
musings 3
Syzygy Aug 2016
sometimes i wish i didn't exist
other times i wish you didn't exist
all the other times in between im in a weird void thats oddly pretty fulfilling and i really couldnt give less of a ****
what the **** am i writing ****
Aug 2016 · 215
musings 2
Syzygy Aug 2016
i really hope my gut is wrong
i know my gut is right though

i wish something like hope didn't exist
its too fallible fickle im falling
Aug 2016 · 199
musings 1
Syzygy Aug 2016
ive always been told to make sure i dont rely on people
i need to make sure i rely in myself
i need to make sure i can take care of what i need to do
and cast aside what's irrelevant

and i completely agree
and ive slowly started to condition myself to do so
i hope im successful

its kind of hard though now
when advice with good intentions backfires like that

i dont rely on people, yes, that is true
but i have problems trusting people when they trust me
i dont know how to stop concealing because when i finally want to open these pages i cant seem to break through its spine
i cant seem to figure out the right things to say until after the brass shells have dropped to the floor

success ***** for once
wow it's been a **** long time
May 2016 · 188
Syzygy May 2016
my love,
continue with your unfiltered commentary,
ask your questions that pierce my heart because you know that i'm lying to you
ignore that i'm bleeding
just as i've ignored you as you have already bled to your death.
life no longer flows through your veins
as affection never really flowed through mine.
i was gonna try to put a pun here but i guess my inspiration'***** rock-bottom ahA
Syzygy May 2016
"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur."*
Mais, à mon avis, quand j'ai vu quelquechose avec mon cœur,
Quand j'ai décidé
ou j'ai entendu
Les choses devinnent malheureux pour moi.
Pourquoi je choisirais quelquechose
ou quelqu'un
que voulait me blesser?
my grammar's probably really bad whoopsy daisy
May 2016 · 294
Syzygy May 2016
I've read so many things to try to comprehend the way I'm feeling.
Years of research.
Decades of those prior to me.
This extraterrestrial rush of chemicals flowing from different parts of my brain
It doesn't feel right.
I hate it.
I am concrete.
Why must these things keep trying to pull me away from the soil in which I was born from and will return to?
From dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
I can't fall down.

Everything is ephemeral.
These figments of my imagination that claw away at me.
These thoughts that keep whirring,
grinding the gears inside the factories polluting even the most miniscule crevices of my mind.
But this is slowly warping my earth
My dust
My ashes
To mud.
The molecules change.
Atoms vibrate sporadically.

Dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
Fall down.
Apr 2016 · 325
Syzygy Apr 2016
It's not feeling in general that people should be worried about.
It's those fleeting waves of extremity, the mortifying thoughts that finally burst out to convey
That people should fear.
sitting here in waves of cloudy reflections is mighty fun
Feb 2016 · 248
Syzygy Feb 2016
Hey, slow it down.

What have I done?
I've messed up yet again.

There might have been a time
When I would give myself away

Those nights when I would leave you right before you fell asleep
And come back to see you wake up
But then, I wasn't really seeing, now was I?
My eyes were replaced with different lenses
That I scratched and clawed at but could not break.

Yeah, it's plain to see
That baby you're beautiful
And there's nothing wrong with you

Those lenses have long since fallen
Lubricated by melancholic tears
Lulled by the waves of irony that I still tried to hold onto
Because you were there
That one cay by this shipwreck of a human

It's me I'm a freak
But thanks for lovin' me
'Cause you're doing it perfectly*

I can't wrap my head around why you've stayed.
But you did.
You're still here.
And I'm honestly so indebted to you
Because you somehow see something worthwhile in this petty excuse of a person.
You're absolutely perfect.
Song Inspiration: Whataya Want From Me -  Adam Lambert
lol I jumbled up the lyrics
Feb 2016 · 386
Syzygy Feb 2016
I'm in a constant state of being subtly nervous for no apparent reason.
Feb 2016 · 488
Syzygy Feb 2016
I don't love you.
I swear.
You need to trust me when I tell you
Don't trust me.

I don't love you.
I swear.
Even my presence is a mirage
There to say I'll never hurt you
Even though I aim a thousand arrows
At your blessed temple.

I don't love you.
I swear.
See through my white lies that spout from my mouth
Telling you I'll always be there for you
That I'll always help you in your times of need
That I'll always cherish you.

I don't love you.
I swear.
That gleam in my eyes
Is not adoration.

I don't love you.
I swear.
Even though I've managed to convince myself otherwise.
Feb 2016 · 289
Syzygy Feb 2016
So you want to play that game?
Let me tell you dear,
I'm not as stupid as you might think.
Because I've been played before,
And I have no intentions of playing with
Or being played by
Someone as pathetic as you.
It's really quite hilarious how some people think they can get away with so much without facing the consequences.
Jan 2016 · 456
Syzygy Jan 2016
"He's just being attentive"
"He likes you"
"He doesn't mean it"
"He's only saying that because he's embarrassed"
Since when was verbal abuse ever an indicator of infatuation?
Since when was it deemed socially acceptable to call me a ***** behind my back?
Since when was I expected to accept mistreatment as a 'good' thing?
Je ne suis pas heureuse maintenant. Ne demandez pas pourquoi, je ne vous direz pas.
Jan 2016 · 527
Syzygy Jan 2016
I hate that I am unable to express my feelings to you when they are at its peak.
And by the time I am eloquent enough it is too late and the moment had long since escaped my reach.
Jan 2016 · 162
Syzygy Jan 2016
I can no longer jump over the bar and I'm sorry
I don't know where I'm going with anything and my thoughts are buzzing everywhere
Nov 2015 · 270
Syzygy Nov 2015
Focus on me.




Look at me!
Look at my flaws!
See how my hips flare!
See how my skin glows so dully in the moonlight!
See how my eyes mock every word that falls out of my chapped lips!

Look at me!
Because it's been a while since you've seen something so worthless.
I was inspired by Ariana Grande's Focus ****
This isn't direct to anyone I swear--
It's just my satirical side.
Nov 2015 · 720
Syzygy Nov 2015
Is it too late to say sorry?
Well, ask yourself that, not me.
Do you think you're worth forgiving?

They say
'Fool me once
Shame on you.
'Fool me twice
Shame on me'

But what about more than that?
One hundred times?

And with every time came a "sorry"
"I promise not to do that again".

So before you ask me
And tell me yet another apology

Apologize to yourself first.
For putting yourself into this predicament.
Inspiration: Sorry by Justin Beiber
Nov 2015 · 474
Syzygy Nov 2015
"I'm not pretty"
You say as someone compliments you.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you step on the scale.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you try on those new pants.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you leave to go on that date.
"I'm not pretty..."

...Yes. You are.
My dear, you are wrong.
When was the last time you've really seen yourself
Past that *one
and the stretch marks on your legs?

You seem to have overlooked
That sparkle in your eyes
When you talk about something you love.

Or how graceful your fingers are
as they skim the keys of the piano,
as they run down your arms
clasping your elbows
and your back arches forward when you're embarrassed.

Or your skin,
that could easily rival
the softness of your favorite cashmere sweater
which fits loosely over your torso,
bunching at your elbows
when you do chores with me
after saying I "don't do it right".

Or your feet
that trek across the creeks with me
when we sneak out every Saturday
so you don't have to go to your uncle's house
when your mom leaves to see her friends.

Do you not even see your lips?
Their rosy color,
their fullness?
The pair you bite when you're nervous or frustrated
that are usually a bit chapped
especially in this chilly weather.

My dear,
You are pretty.
You're beautiful.
Please don't say otherwise.
This may seem like it's directed purely to females, but males are beautiful, too.
Nov 2015 · 456
Syzygy Nov 2015
Don't trust me.
Because you will only end up hurting yourself in the end.
You will see me in everything,
On every park bench we've sat on,
Near every tree we've shared kisses under.
You'll see me in that glint in your eyes
still glassy from crying.
You'll see me in every store we've shopped at,
In every restaurant we've been to.
In every photo of the first summer sunset,
In every movie.

Don't trust me.
Because I will chew you up and leave your heart
I will say I loved you
My voice being your ultimate aphrodisiac.
My lips being just right for yours.
My fingers just fitting into the gap between yours
when we would lay down and look at the stars.

Don't trust me
Just because I trusted you.
Nov 2015 · 212
Syzygy Nov 2015
You were the one thing I didn't want to lose.
The one thing I must never forget.

But see-
This beast had overcome me
as the dementia overcomes you, too.
Nov 2015 · 195
Syzygy Nov 2015
Just because you're healthy
doesn't mean you're healthy.
Nov 2015 · 288
Syzygy Nov 2015
This argument
gone over
countless times,
victimizing ourselves-
separating ourselves
and creating this
unnecessary drift
that soon turns into
unrequited feelings
as the darkness shadows
the light that once existed
in us.

                            "It's you".
"It's me."

It's us
we don't exist
we shan't.

But I suppose that doesn't really matter now
does it?
Sep 2015 · 205
Syzygy Sep 2015
My body feels like it's constantly about to collapse
But somehow I still have the strength to keep going.
Jul 2015 · 284
Syzygy Jul 2015

When you think nobody's home
To hear you cry yourself to sleep
You don't hear.

When you think that nobody out there loves you,
While that person you've liked down the street dreams about you
You don't feel.

When you use yourself as a canvas
And become ashamed to show your work,
You don't see.

When you send that last text,
Write that last word
With your shaking hands
Trailing behind every letter
You don't know.

That I can see you.
That I can feel you.
That I can hear you.

Because I am you.
The real you.
The beautiful reflection
That you've somehow lost
Through years
Of dirtying your mirror.
Jul 2015 · 214
Syzygy Jul 2015
Your smile is true
But your words are a lie.
Jun 2015 · 457
Just a note
Syzygy Jun 2015
I know for a ******* fact that I'm no model.
But there's no need to degrade me because of that.
I mean, yeah.
I can't control what you say.
I'm not going to try to.
But it does hurt.
Just keep that in mind.
May 2015 · 196
Syzygy May 2015
Don't mind me as I sit here
Hiding what I really want to say to you
And replacing it with what you want me to say.
This isn't directed to anyone in particular, but....
Apr 2015 · 211
Note to the World (VIII)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
Why are some of the greatest people
Taken away so quickly?
Apr 2015 · 193
Note to the World (VII)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
Why is money a shield?
Apr 2015 · 359
Contradictory (II)
Syzygy Apr 2015
I wear a smile
Too genuine to be real.
Apr 2015 · 536
Syzygy Apr 2015
You are the one thing
I desire enough
To push away.
Apr 2015 · 361
Note to the World (VI)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
I can see my ribcage
And the space between my thighs.
Am I pretty now?
Or am I still not good enough?
Apr 2015 · 290
Note to the World (V)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
Why do you say 'she asked for it'?
Discussing ****.
Apr 2015 · 225
Note to the World (IV)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
Is that gun necessary?
Apr 2015 · 703
Note to the World (III)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
You say everyone's beautiful.
Everyone, meaning
The authentic photoshopped models on TV.
Apr 2015 · 232
Note to the World (II)
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
You always tell me to be myself.
But how can I be if you don't accept it?
Apr 2015 · 242
Note to the World
Syzygy Apr 2015
Dear World,
I know I'm not perfect.
But no one is.
Don't enforce something that doesn't exist.
I might make a lot of these notes. Just saying.
Apr 2015 · 724
Syzygy Apr 2015
When people criticize me,
I'm not sure if they realize
But I've already criticized myself
On the exact same things.
Apr 2015 · 280
Syzygy Apr 2015
I have two people inside of me-

Mind shows me truth,
Heart twists my perception.

Mind is my reality,
Heart is my fantasy.

Mind keeps me objective,
Heart forces subjection onto me.

Neither Heart nor Mind
Can control
This drug I've found.

I've been using it for quite a while
Mostly in secret.

There are many forms of this drug.
I mainly use

Sensation burns,
Memories enhance the pain.
But I don't mind.
I like the pain.

It's addicting.
Unhealthily addicting
To the point where
I feel lethargic without it.

Can you guess what this drug is?
It's quite rare, actually.
However, it goes by many names.
But what I usually call it-
is *Love.
(I'm not sure where I was going with this. Oh well.)
Apr 2015 · 825
Syzygy Apr 2015
Why didn't you remind me
Of the things I should have never forgotten?
Because those things
Are now attacking me,
Killing me inside.
Mar 2015 · 553
Syzygy Mar 2015
I've accepted it all.
And I'll give in to you.
Only you.
You've become a part of me.
You complete me.

All the risk,
I'll ignore.
It's all worth it for me.

My head is spinning.
These thoughts,
These sins I've committed.
Matter no more.
Only you.

Always you.
Inspired by Ellie Goulding's "Love Me Like You Do"
Mar 2015 · 354
Syzygy Mar 2015
I'm already past my limit
Yet people ask for so much more
And I can't give it to them.

I'm sorry if I can't help you,
I'm sorry if I fail.
I'll try to make things better,
But please note I'm human.
I can only do
So much.
Syzygy Mar 2015
You told me,
"No one understands."
I said,
"That's not true.
I do."
And you said,
You don't."

Who are you to say that?
Are you me?
Do you know what I've been through?
To the last two questions above,
you would say NO.

And yet,
You still say I don't understand,
That I'm in the dark.
Well, you know what?
I am in the darkness.
It's consumed me.
I haven't seen the light in ages.

So don't you dare think
That for even a second
You have the audacity to tell me
I'm the one that doesn't understand.
I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of your *******.
Mar 2015 · 300
Silver Space
Syzygy Mar 2015
I had a dream.
You lay in front of me.
Things were out of our hands.
You were gone.
I couldn't stop it.
You just...
Gone forever.

I wake up,
And claw
The silver space
On the bed where you usually are.
And when I feel nothing but the sheets,
That's when the tears start to fall.
should I write a story based off of this? I kind of want to, but I'm not entirely sure If I should...
Mar 2015 · 343
Confession of Confusion
Syzygy Mar 2015
I open my heart to you today.
Why do I feel this way?
What makes me feel this way?

Whenever I'm around you,
Reality is finally better than my dreams.
Nothing else matters,
But you.

Your smile,
Your messy hair
Your gaze.
All of it.
All of you.
It pulls me in,
And I can't resist.

So please,
Now that I'm telling you this,
Answer me-
Why do you make my day
Just by sharing a few words with me?
How do you make me smile
Amidst all of my tears?

Is it really so?
Am I feeling this thing called
(for the couples out there x3)
Mar 2015 · 694
Syzygy Mar 2015
“Sooner or later, the pure white shall be dyed blood red.”*
A word
used to describe things
only from people who do not know the truth
about what they are describing.
For even the purest,
white souls,
are stained
with drops of red.
Even the purest roses
That grow on the valley
Are stained with red
Until they are unrecognizable
from what they once were
or seemed to be.
Mar 2015 · 394
Syzygy Mar 2015
Your words stab me
Killing me over and over again.
Why do I still give in?
Why do I still love you?

Do you love me?
Sure you do.
I'm lying, aren't I?
No, I'm not.
Of course not.

All those nights alone
don't mean a thing.
All those beer bottles
In the refrigerator
That are gone the next morning
Are worthless.
I have nothing to worry about.

*...I can't lie to myself anymore. It hurts too much.
Feb 2015 · 386
Syzygy Feb 2015
What’s wrong with me? why can’t I learn?
Falling in love is so easy…. but then, why is it so hard to fall *out
of love? I’ve hurt myself so many times, I’ve had my heart shattered to the point of no return….
And yet I still love.
Why? God, why must I do this to myself? I don’t want to. I don’t want to love anymore. I can’t love anymore.
But then… what is a life without love? Why do we all feel love as such a beautiful thing, if it’s just going to end up hurting us in the end?

Tears roll down her eyes as she wrote the very words she is made of. The very words she’s feeling. It isn’t the heartbreak, although she has yet to get used to the pain. She’s been wounded; she doesn’t remember what it feels like not to be. She’s constantly beaten, and when she’s down, those closest to her make sure she never gets up.
Sighing, she looks around. Everything looks the same- the light green walls of her bedroom, her messy bed with mismatched sheets and gray-blue pillows. She turns to the right, catching glimpses of the trees and grass beneath. She’s looking, but not seeing. Her eyes are dull, as if they’ve never shone like in those pictures her mother has hanging along the walls of their too-cheery hallways.
She’s tired. Tired of being used, abused, and pretending it’s okay. She’s tired of having only words by her side- although they’ve always hurt more than they’ve healed.  She’s constantly being stabbed, the wounds visible to no one but those that have the blade.
She’s had friends- or so she thought. They had either left her, or added another scar to her collection. It seemed as if having evidence on her skin wasn’t enough for them. Or did they even know? Do they even know now? She knows people are aware; she knows how they see her. She hears the voices in her head, mocking her every single minute. Emo. Worthless. *****. Just some of many. She’s surrounded by these words, they’ve become who she is.
She’s had rare occasions when she saw light- light in her endless abyss. The light of people, people begging her, pleading for her to stay. To be someone she once was. They wanted her to be happy...Or so they said. They would say they cared, but did they really? They left, so they couldn’t possibly have.
She finally exits her thoughts for a moment to put her body in motion. She feels everything going slowly, smoothly as she walks out of her room. Her cage. Her haven. Her lifeless eyes stay glued to the floor as she barely thinks about where she’s going. She’s not wearing her sweater, or her jeans. She’s visible to everyone-to the criticism, the false sympathy. A weary sigh escapes her lips as her fingertips meet the wall, as her feet softly step on the varnished wood stairs. She feels herself slowly descending. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to hide anymore. She feels like she’s going to explode. She wants to explode.
*If they see…when they see… what will they say? Will they even say anything? Maybe they’ll finally care. Now that’s it’s too late. That always seems to be it. People always suddenly care, once it’s too late. Once the damage done is so irreversible, they can’t do anything but think in horror at what they see in front of them… Because I’m their target, just waiting to be aimed at again. I’m what’s been right in front of them, even though they’ve been too busy with their blades to notice.
Something I wrote a long time ago, but forgot about.

(urrrggggghhhh I should be studying.... :P)
Feb 2015 · 578
Syzygy Feb 2015
I know what to say
Just not how to say it.
Feb 2015 · 1.1k
Syzygy Feb 2015
I am a walking hypocrite.
I criticize, yet do not take criticism.
I have a sharp tongue,
But I don't like it from others.
I'm tired,
But I still sleep late.
I want excitement,
Yet I always push the opportunities away.
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