I can't remember the last time I chose who I was
I am always the girl everyone says I am
They called me sweet so I turned my hair to cotton candy
They told me I was innocent so I hid my body
They said I was understanding so I threw my thoughts in the trash
They whispered I was empathetic so I sent my feelings away
They called me cheery so I pinned the tips of my lips to my ears
They told me I was friendly so I decided to pretend I wasn't scared to say hi
They said I was fair so I made myself blind
They whispered I had changed so I felt myself crumble
They yelled at me what to be and when I wasn't perfect they started over
They ate my cotton candy
They ripped my clothes away
They dug my thoughts out of the trash
They called my feelings and brought them back
They tore my lips from my ears
They scared me into not wanting to say hi anymore
They gave me glasses
They stopped 'fixing' me
Now that they've stopped I don't know who I am
Am I still sweet, innocent, understanding, empathetic, cheery, friendly, and fair?
I don't know who I am now that they've stopped telling me
Maybe I'm nothing
Maybe I'm everything
I don't know what or who I am now
I need someone to tell me
I miss who I was pre-them
I miss who I was post-them
I don't know who I am
Who I'm supposed to be
or
My identity

is it the ever flowing images that keep me "going", that keep me "from moving"?

quite confusing, in both ways.

in some ways they allow the blood in my veins to rush to my cheeks when I chose, even sometimes by surprise, but in others, I can barely fathom a moment without them, the memories.

if I were to be living without the images of you, I suppose I would begin to visit you in dream; like someone I have never met but would like to.

you are a dream in all honestly...at least now you are.

there is a nauseating rush now, like a cracked mosaic, like a weak cherry tree in the late fall, like an yelled secret in outer space; and all I suppose is real, are the words I say in my sleep, the longing I remember when I wake, the pain I feel later in the day when I try and remember every arrangement of letters than passed my lips, your fruit punch stained ones.

a third is good, a third is bad, and the other third is neutral...

stuck in the middle, consuming both the good and the bad, blending in camouflage.

I cannot tell which is which.

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

Im always thinking about you
I'm always worrying if you're safe
Are you okay?
Are you happy or sad?
Are you eating enough?
Are you sleeping enough?
Are you thinking the same about me?
I worry about your answers so much I get sick, literally.
But if I mention this, I would only make you sad

When the light goes out at night, what do you see? Most people see darkness, black shades or shadows of objects in the room.

I see fear. I see what can go bump in the night, the things that leave your hair up on end and your goose bumps on your body.

I see what could grab you and torture you till suns first light. I see the future of one hundred possibilities come to life in a matter of minutes.

Yes you could say I sleep with the light on, it eases my senses. I sleep with a fan on to **** any sound rumbling outside my door. I do grip my pillow tight and have slept with on eye open as a child.

These nightmares dont just happen at night, I see them without closing my eyes. I see them as I drive down the road in daylight. I see them out with friends and movie theaters.

I must ignore the sight to get through my day, such like the hulk is always mad but learns when to turn, I am always scared and seeing the darkness but know when to block it and see reality.

Soon my mind will eat me alive, golfed in a world of fear and torture. As my fingers twitch and legs shake, the madness will paint brush strokes on paper and please other people in their own fantasy land, while i write it will be a cry for help....

Maybe.
Just maybe,
If I close my eyes tight enough,
Everything will be okay.

I never expected to fall back in.
I suppose jumping is the real word, because I've always been a headfirst without thinking kind of girl.
I've always called it fearless, the words forever tattooed into my ribs, scar tissue raising so that his hands graze it when they touch me,
But oh dear God am I terrified as I make room for my things in his closet
Take a breath and store my makeup under his sink.
This is the first time in forever I can say that I wish I wasn't jumping headfirst.
I am frightened I am falling, forever the fearless female
Now a pile of lovesick mess on the living room floor I share.

All my life
I was scared of drowning.
But now,
I'm drowning in my
own fears.

S.F

Am I growing or is the world becoming smaller?
Where did I leave my childhood behind and when was it really over?
Is there a way to predict the future or does it completely depend on our choices?
Am I the one to calm my thoughts or is it out of my control?
Why did they do this to me and should I be sorry for their actions?
Do I try too hard or do I just not care enough?
Am I too less or too much?
Why did I never get to say goodbye when I knew it would happen?
What is the reason for the birds to leave south and come back again if it'll just get cold later?
How do I rescue myself before it is too late and will it ever be too late?
Did I hit rock bottom or can I continue to dig further down?
Is there a specific purpose for me in this world or are some of us perhaps not destined to anything?
Are we walking in circles or are we actually moving forward if not backwards?
Does it get better with time or do I just get better at swallowing the pain like it was bitter medicine?
Will this end and how did it even begin?
Why do the covers feel too hot but the world around me too cold?
Am I scared of monsters or people who pretend to be angels?
Do I get deceived to believe or is the feeling about this real?
Do I want to go back or is it worth to keep moving?
Am I scared or am I excited?