every bit, every tiny bit i can feel the elephant foot through my chest, there is little to no breath, can i stop? god, if there is anything for me please don’t make it wait longer tell my future i won’t be coming earth is not my place, not anywhere i’ve been this is too much half my day i want to scream on the top of my lungs for help, for solitude, for no one why am i not heard yet?
maybe i should tell someone that my room is a mess like my head and i can’t keep it still, slowly filling my hands with anything i can find, i wont rest i cant rest i can’t let me go i have to become my future i promised i won’t go i promised things i can’t keep just let me go, my lungs have and the blood swells my chest my eyes aren’t smiling im sorry im not joyful like i used to be
I don't know if I can change anything. But I have to try. I've seen too many people let their dreams fall by the wayside. And for what? A chance to survive long enough to see their children thrive? No. We deserve better. For ourselves. For our loved ones. For everyone. Like I said. I don't know if I can change anything. But I have to try. I've seen too many people let their dreams fall by the wayside.
I feel breathless at any speck of thought —an idea— crossing my mind. I am restlessly wishing for something, prying for crumbs, and my mind is slowly sinking. Breathing words for oxygen, concepts for nutrients. I am a starving girl in a desert of words.
You can be anything you want to be; a clown, a lover, a serial killer, a tarot card reader, a musician who likes to eat pickles. You can be a prized fighter who falls in love with love itself. When you read you can be anything, and I do mean anything. But when you write.....you can see what's happening in front of you, you can be the night sky, in the twinkling eye of the child when she is being read your bedtime story. Put yourself in my place, when I am writing I close my eyes and the story that wants to come out is vividly clear in front of me. It's amazing what words can do when the right ones are put together: time stood still when you looked at me. I felt what you didn't say, I felt what you were gonna say. You smell so good, I can't wait for you to.....You know....It's all good, I know you feel it too, if this is just my imagination, I need to stop drinking so much coffee, the caffeine is starting to get to me.
Why is it always trash night? Just another small thing I fight Like tailpipes on the highway And timelines that go sideways... It's the trivial things that eat me up Nibble by nibble, right through my gut Don't sweat the small stuff? ****, that sounds nice But what if the small stuff Is your entire ******* life.
if only you knew the things i'd do for you the things i've done for you
if only you knew the pain i've felt on my feet all those days spent cleaning, cooking and entertaining
if only you knew that i didn't have any pancake mix but found a way to satisfy your cravings because i wanted you to be happy
if only you knew how tired i was my body was shutting down but my mind was racing with thoughts of you
if only you knew the time, energy and effort spent all to just impress you and give you a good time
if only you knew the insane extra charge to deliver a box of cupcakes for your mom on mother's day but you didn't show up
if only you knew how much i wanted to spend time with you even if it was just for ten minutes but it never happened
if only you knew how much i wanted to hug you or be near you to show you how much you mean to me but you seemed distant
if only you knew how willing i am, how i'd go the ends of the earth for you, how i'd write poems about you, show you how you should be loved, how much i care for you, and how i'd give you more than the world i'd give you the universe.
Sometimes, I wish my story Was written with a pencil Instead of a pen. To be able to erase all the bad times, The mistakes, The what could've been's. But in the end, I wouldn't trade them for anything. They made me who I am today. And to me, that's everything.