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Perhaps one day these words I write,
will somehow make you see the light,
until that day,
here I shall lay,
and fix your broken heart.
I lay here alone and i recall those words you said,
how you told me all you longed for was to lie in my bed,
how you wished to feel my touch,
as i stroke your stubble grown a little too much.
How you'd call me late and declare you're cold,
say the only possible cure was to be in my hold.
I wonder if you still lay alone,
in this new place not all that far from home,
the thought so awful has now fled
I hate myself for letting such ideas inside my head
you are mine and I am yours, a trust neither should betray,
though difficult without a word it is to keep evil thoughts at bay.
But I shall fight until our wedding day.
My boyfriend has moved to university, not too far away. Though he struggles with his head and he does not let me see him.
Drill a hole into my skull
Drain my blood into the bowl
Stick my eye with an ice pick
It spoke again,
In the dark recess of my mind,
This voice of mine,
The one I blame,
For all my crimes!
Feedback greatly encouraged, I want to be a better writer!
I am whatever I need to be.
I am never what I want to be.
I am alone inside of you,
While being alone inside of me,
I am alone inside of everyone,
Who has ever met me!

Me, who is me,
Is he the me inside of you,
Or the me inside of me,
Could he be the me inside of anyone,
Who has ever met me?

But there is no me, or even you,
No single individual,
Can really be true,
When they are created by the minds,
Of really quite a few.
There are many versions of you, but none of them are really true!
m 6d
I’m just so angry
That you kissed me and
Walked away
And that you missed me
And that all these men line
Up for a chance to taste
This body but never this
Soul and I’m so angry
That everything I’ve prepared for
Is never going to happen,
That my grandchildren
May never see snow,
That I may never feel peace
Again, that my heart aches
Constantly. Just constantly.
My home feels like a trap and I’m
Walking through molasses towards
My death and I’m angry
That nobody is here to hold my hand
constant thoughts of the end of the world
It took a week.
One week of built up
emotion over the last
22 years for me to lose
Panic attacks twice a day
Doctors visits
the last few days.
Am I having a heart attack?
Do I have cancer?
Am I dying?
Why are my arms tingling?
Me and google
were never that great
for each other anyway.
One prescription
of Prozac
and Klonopin later
I hope I can get back to
myself again
What did she have that I’m missing? What did you have then vs. now that changes things? It’s hard to feel like it’s not me. I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m adding to your stress and I’m sure I’m not helping but I just want you to see what this seems like to me, especially considering my history— nobody has ever been sure of me, really.
I get that it’s not me, now. thanks for explaining.
Maybe if you were ******* me it’d be enough for you to want to marry me, and release your notion of security.

Maybe that’s what it takes. Maybe that’s why she was different.
I know this isn’t true, now, but. It was a hard night that night and I figure it deserves to be shared anyway.
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