If I fall down a rabbit hole,
once or twice,
is it deliberate, or a mistake?
Am I being too nice?

I peer over the edge,
and throw my feelings down asunder;
hope it floods the rabbit hole,
as clouds rumble with thunder.

But it floats to the top,
and now, I have my own wishing well,
with bunny carcasses, snakes, egg shells,
oh well.

Empty it, bucket by bucket;
burry each skeleton in a bed of flowers,
until there is no evidence
of the feelings that I cower.

And rumble, comes the next thunder,
before I even wake.
I've stumbled down the rabbit hole
again, it floods the gate.

Ever since I was a little child, I always wondered what it would feel like to be an ant. A little teeny-weeny tiny ant. Wandering around in this gigantic world. Following the sugary smell of life, yet all they find are scraps. Collecting all there is from it for their families, and no matter how small the food seemed to us humans, it would always be HUGE for them to carry.

Later on, I grew a bit older, and I started to think, how did the first ant that was ever killed feel like? to be stepped on by a huge giant foot, and without it even realizing that it had stepped on an ant.

How strange it is that such a critter can carry 50 times its own bodyweight, yet can be killed so abruptly.

Would it feel anything? Or would it simply just die? Would her family and friends even realize that it’s dead? Does it even have friends and family and little ants that cared about it?

I wasn’t really sure about the answer, but I always wondered about it.

And then it hit me, or should I say smashed me. That same giant foot I was talking about. No not only did it smash me, but it squished me, squished me hard enough, that I became nothing but a…? I guess I became nothing.

Since then, I knew exactly what the answer was. To be a little tiny creature smashed to the ground. Nobody noticed. Nobody cared. Or did they?

Why do I do this to myself?
Why do I see rejection where there is none?
Being in love is like flying with no safety net
It feels like nothing else in the world, but,
when you fall, you fall hard.
Pain takes my breath away
thinking about you.
I know you have needs
I have needs too.
Whose do we satisfy? Why?
Who decides? Who balances the scales?
Why is it so ******* hard being away from you?
I try to hold back the tears
I try to respect your space
But, ******* hell, I am screaming
and you can't hear me.
I miss you, I want to touch you
but you won't come.
If that is not rejection, then
my mind is hell on earth.

Denial,
such a human emotion.

So quick am I to turn my back,
to close my eyes against the truth

So adamant that it must be wrong

it must

For if I am right I would have to face the consequences of something that is out of my control.


If denial is my first instinct, to claw my way out of the quicksand

then why,

when I came out,

did I never except denial from you?

The approach was too abrupt
Too Strong
The vibe felt right so you jumped at the opportunity that you believed would remove yourself from the comfort of your mental prison
Rejected
You took a leap of faith
You tried to escape
Rejection is a song that's played many times before but now its become a theme of failed attempts where the ego shouts for the need to be alone and in solitude
Rejection fuels the ego
But not the soul
He takes a back seat and lets the ego control
With every failed attempt the more the walls close in
The more the prison grows in capacity
The more solitude fills itself in

Most girls love having crushes.
The thought of someone new.
Asking themselves, “Is this it? Could this be the one?”
Allowing themselves to be hopeful that this one will be different.
But then there’s girls like me.
Girls who have anxiety.
I hate the feeling of liking someone new.
I hate having crushes.
While other’s get butterflies,
I get angry wasps.
My heart doesn’t skip a beat.
Instead it pounds against my chest like I just ran a marathon.
I don’t blush.
My chest heats up and gets covered in red splotches.
When I look down at the ground I’m not doing it to be cute.
It’s better to look at the ground than to look into another set of eyes that will never love you.
While some girls lose sleep out of pure bliss,
I lose sleep because of fear of rejection.
I’m not asking myself, “Could this be the one?”
No, I’m asking myself, “How will this one break my heart?”
But I will let this crush crush me.
I’ll soak in my hurt.
Make myself fully aware of the tears running down my face.
Remember how they feel.
And I will move on.
Like I always do.
“Weeping may last through the night,
But joy comes with the morning.”
Psalms 30:5

My lady,
I appear to thee.
My face scarred and one armed,
but with a pure heart.
I give you this rose
promising to love you
‘til death do us part.

You reject me.
I am confused
and in agony.

I was driven by a motivation
that was you, my lady
in my imagination
the real thing I wanted to happen.

I appear to thee.
My face scarred and one-armed,
but with a pure heart.
I give you this rose
promising to love you
‘til death do us part.

You take me as yours
with your heart
not your eyes.
You make me beautiful
and happy inside.

When in reality,
I know I’m hideous
and broken.
Cursed
to dream on in fantasy.