Insert possible Trigger Warning for my fuckity bluntness today*

God knows if you've read a lot of my work, you know I am all about the metaphors and symbolism and all of that, right? I twist everything into run on sentences of Wonderland madness and all of that.

Well, today, **** that.

You heard me. **** my words and my poetry, today we are being blunt, as blunt as a person who feels uncomfortable at the mere mention of some words when she's feeling down. But this isn't about me right now. Well it is, but not. Anyway, here we go.

You know what ******* *****?

Suicidal thoughts. And thoughts of cutting. And insane impulses. And moving vehicles and how nice it sounds to jump in front of one sometimes, even if its simply because you want to know what it feels like.

I lie a lot, ok? I am probably able to be diagnosed as a pathological liar at this point, if we want to be ******* honest for once, because I am so scared of terrifying people and hurting them and making them feel bad that I keep the truth inside. I tell snippets or water-downed versions, but I literally want to bash my skull in half the time from unwanted impulses or put myself in a straight-jacket for how nice causing myself pain sounds. Its crazy, I know its crazy, but its my head and its me and that's a hard thing to live with when saying 'I'm not like the other girls' stops being a fashion statement and turns into a curse.

Impulses and impulsiveness in general is not ******* cute, ok? I look at a car and I want to run into it. I see any attractive person and I wonder what it would be like to flirt and kiss and see their body naked. I see a train and wonder what it would be like to run away. I finish a book and I want to publish and quit school and be a full time author with half a writing degree. I see a knife and I wonder what it'd be like to stab someone with it. I am not suicidal or nymphomaniac or a murderer, and I don't truly want to do any of these, but the ******* impulses. In that moment its the only thing that sounds like a good idea, and I feel my body pull towards it. Just one step into the street, just a few hours of running away, just a little cut. I all ******* sick and I know it but its my head and though I control them better now I can't stop them.

I can't change people either. And because of my fuckity condition of moods and impulses if I get sad and get a suicidal impulse, it latches on like a *****. And I want it to stop and I want to feel better and I want help, but how do you tell your friends that the one little sentence they said turned you into a death-seeking mess?

I'm broken, and I'm ******* hella crazy, but I still want to be human. I want to be treated like I'm a person and not a ticking time bomb. I hate telling people anything going on in my head because I don't want to be treated like I'm some invalid. I am valid, I am real, and I don't deserve to be treated like a monster when I never do anything, I just have these ******* impulses.

****, ****, ****, **** impulses.

I hate impulses.

I am fully aware I'd feel empty without my range of emotion, but can the impulses go away, please? I don't want to even contemplate cheating on my boyfriend when its nothing that I want, I don't want to be afraid the impulses might get me to jump off the nearest bridge, and I don't want to cut my wrists.

I am fully aware people can't always get what they want, but why the hell do I have to fight a raging hell-monster that whispers all the things no one should do? Why do I get that special ******* pleasure? If this is some sort of 'gift' to make me stronger, guess what? I. Don't. Want. It.

I just want to be a normal quirky girl who's a little emotional and likes to write stories. Why is that such a hard dream?

And by the way?

I still ******* hate impulses.

A journey in the heart
We will visit every part
At first we need to open The door
But we will have to get the keys
Only a smile is needed, nothing more
You don't have to pig on your knees
This what the smile is made for
Now we are in, can you see this
Let's go see, who are you Ms.?
We didn't recognize her
I know this face, I am not sure
=Oh God!!, is that you..
Oh dear, I thought you knew
Once you love me, I own you
I own this heart whatever you do
=But I thought I forgot!!
No dear, you can not
I have your dreams
I am the color of your themes
=Was that you hurting me?
Yes, you will not be free
Now I own this place
You can never forget my face
=But I loved you and I cared
you made your heart shared
I warned you, why are you scared?
=I thought my heart is mine
No dear this is why you're not fine
=so what is your advice?
Never give your heart at any price!

Tattoos are supposed to be permanent.
They are supposed to stay in your life forever.
You were mine and I was yours.

But last I found out,
You drew me with a pen.
And with time you let me fade.
Replacing me with another name.

You asked me if I think he'll cheat again
It hurt me so much to lie to you
I couldn't tell you something that could hurt you so badly
Even in the darkest of times
One should still have hope
Who am I to take that hope away.
Truth is I think that he will
I wish I was wrong and I very well could be
But from what I can tell he will
One time is a mistake but 3 times is not,
He knew what he was doing and didn't care.
He was selfish
He would have never told you and he would still be doing it
Maybe not with the same person but still.
When he would tell me about it
He didn't sound sorry he would sound proud of himself
Like a someone who just stole something expensive and got away with it.
Thats why I think he'll do it again
He wont be able to help himself.
He will just be better at it.
Learn from his mistakes.
He maybe won't do it for a while
But he will eventually.
I dont think you should stay with him
Much less marry him
But I'm not going to tell you that.
I don't want to be blamed for this
This is something you need to learn on your own
Hopefully you don't come to read this. Hopefully I'm wrong about this.
Hopefully you will be happy with him.
That's all I want
For you to be happy even if its without me because I love you

He hurt you with words
He neglected you
He cheated you
I was there
There to mend you
To help pick up your pieces
To listen to everyone word you spoke
And even after that
You are still with him
You will still marry him
I guess he won

at first,
she was just an old flame
hearing you speak her name burned through me
it burned like hot lava spewing from your lips
it burned hotter than one thousand suns
it burned me up inside.
that's the thing about old flames:
they can either burn out,
or ignite wildfires
and now I'm smoldering
I've burnt up.
the fire is out, suffocated
it cannot be rekindled.
there is no spark
there is no flame
there is only smoke
of a love lost
to a lust found

She sat cupping a mug
Of cold coffee
Counting the hours
Till he would come back.

She wished she could confront him

She knew of the *****
He kept visiting
And yearned to be more
Desirable and loving
Twisting  her
Sterling Silver wedding
Ring

if she could please him enough then he would stop going to that pimps house for love,

When he came back; One AM
All ruffled and drunk
She plastered on a Hollywood grin
Whilst taking off his
Perfume scented coat.

the coat that she had marked and claimed him in

And as he took her that night
In her best Victoria's Secret
She tried her best to pleasure him
In every way she knew
As she loved him so strongly

surely she was enough for him;his one and only?

In her eyes he deserved  the best
For he was her Jack and she  his Rose
And thus she prepared herself
For more  heartache
Seeing another date
made with her
On his mobile calendar

*No matter how hard she tried or how much she loved him she'd never be good enough for him,