Seriously, I don't know what is true.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLIX)


While courtship has a flavour we'd avail
Ourselves of...ever, is't a hallmark thence
Of fond affection that he tells her hence,
And ever:  "you're not good enough"?!  Ne bail.
Go butter up wi' compliments to scale,
Then tear her down to less than nothing, whence
She is not...cuz you love her?!  THAT's good sense?
That's how ye cherish her, in sheer betrayl?
I do not understand.  Nor do I, fer
All that, believe aught flattry, though I rue
Its cruel effect.  Yet if I'm weary, poor
As thinking I have any say, of to
Whatever cause this "you're not good 'nough!"--stir
Thin hopes love might exist, that statement's...true.

04Apr19b

I know I should not
let anyone's opinion of me
diminish my self worth.
Yet, the second after you told me
you no longer found me desirable,
all the confidence
I had been building up for the past decade
plummeted.
Faster and harder
than any star ever has ever collapsed before;
into this black hole,
which now consumes me.

I know it seems like my life's not rough
But why is it I'm never good enough
Why can I bust my **** and nobody is proud
I can write all day, but I can't erase this cloud

When I learn one song, I have to know three others
When I'm down and drained mentally I can't recover

So I place on a brave face and try to remain tough
A nagging doubt remains. "You aren't good enough!"
No matter what vice I avoid, or pain that subsides
I want nothing more some days than to lay down and cry

Even though my life hasn't been too rough
It always seems, I'm not good enough

who is the girl
whose smile
reflects in your ocean eyes?
who is the girl
that prompts
that sly smile?
who is the girl
you haven't mentioned
but gives you
a reason to live?
who is the girl
who makes everything okay?
the girl
you fall asleep with
the girl whose petite frame
cuddles up next to you
whose small smooth hands
hold yours
as you walk in the dark
who is this girl
that has your heart?
I hear
her name
is Envy.

Tired of being cast aside
As soon as someone better comes along.
Tired of feeling like nothing to you
When all I do is try to support you.
Why is it okay to make me feel
Like a complete waste of space?
Why is it okay to make me feel
Like I'm never good enough for anyone?

You sat beside me and spoke so sweetly
Let your hands run up my back ever so discreetly
I felt you dancing along my vertebrae
To the tunes of your own words that mould like clay
It took all of me to lift my sleeves
And show you my scars, the reason why everyone leaves
You titled your head to get a better view
Pointed out every dark depressant hue
Then you let your tongue slip
To tell me they're not the wreckage of skin, shadow and ship
That they're not remotely close to how bad they could be
Little did you know how much those scratches mean to me
You spoke of a girl you once knew
Like a Broadway play acting on cue
Mine were nothing compared to hers
In your words, mine are like nicks from spurs
You left me blowing in an empty breeze
While I whirl around like branches falling from trees
Nicks and cuts becoming apparent
My chest transforming transparent
Now I sit curled in a blood soaked bed sheet
Unwillingly trying to compete
Keeping my bones warm
While emulating thoughts swarm
To think you were going to be the one to make my bed
To think you were going to be the place to rest my head
As if I don't hate my inflections enough
You turned into a wolf and puffed and huffed
Blowing me down like a house made of straw
Then you sat back and laughed as I crawled
Letting the stones cut my upper thigh
You asked me what it feels like to die
I told you that it feels a lot like this
And those tiny little nicks shouldn't be dismissed
Because every wound bleeds
It's a part of sufferings deed
And soon enough they'll bleed you dry
By then it sure won't help to cry
You will be the death of me
And only then will you see
That those nicks and cuts mean so much to me
And that they are as bad as they could be

why is it that when you let yourself get attached
you feel more as if you are letting go
loosening your grip on your heart
is like loosening your hold on the edge of a cliff
hanging off the mountain that was built up of all your fears
when he says he loves me, they are just words
when he says im beautiful, he must not be looking hard enough
when he holds you
you remind yourself, you may never be held again
for his soft hands are too weak, too small
to possibly be able to lift you up
if you fall
when you fall
when you fall you'll catch yourself halfway down