#rambles
I open my eyes and hear you call my name,
Soft and silent like an empty road,
I glance around and feel the flame.
One that is burning ever so brightly.
A tune entrances my mind, it is your voice.
I follow the tune into the night, my legs.
begging for a choice.
I open my eyes and hear you call my name.
I feel you against my body, my rage surfacing,
Why oh why must you cause pain,
Why oh why must I feel I am worsening.
I glance around and feel the flame,
Burning my finger out of curiosity touch
My eyes are wide, full of shame.
Will this continue for eternity?
My ears ring as I drown you out,
Listening and pleading to be free.
My voice is filled with such doubt,
I open my eyes and hear you call my name.
Jul 25, 2024
Jul 25, 2024 at 1:03 PM UTC
Do you really know me like you say you do?
I don't like existing in memories of others when I cannot remember my own.
You can't possibly remember me.
It makes me so angry when you tell me that,
angry that I can't verify it,
angry that those ideas of me still linger,
angry that my past exists at all.
I want to purge this dissociative self
I used to be from all consciousness,
and it isn't fair that you can still remember her.
I am so mad that you can compare me now to me before
and that you can clearly recollect all the signs.
I am so envious that I couldn't have seen the signs myself when it was happening and that I still can't now.
I envy the way you can tip your sight backward to how I was before and that you can see the progress.
I want to see it too.
I am so angry
and this feeling burns my throat
when you remind me of what you know.
Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 11:16 PM UTC
Why did I think you could cure
all the aches and pains
I had held for years and more,
when you were never my remedy?
Every dose I took
was another ******* placebo,
and you'd have thought
I could tell this treatment wasn't working for me.
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 12:26 AM UTC
Did you love me in a past life?
Is that why you made a pact with me
to conjoin this time in a karmic unraveling?
What did you intend to learn from me?
Our energetic ties implied we should have known
how this would all end;
I felt it in the beginning,
that this might not be sustainable,
but I persisted and so did you,
dragging our feet into the trenches.
Did you care what the end result would be?
Was it satisfying enough to watch the soft shell
surrounding us crack?
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 12:17 AM UTC
I'd be such a good girl for you,
making sure to cram and compartmentalize every piece of me
into whatever shape you'd prefer;
I've never known any better.
It's what I've always been told.
If I'm not here to make you happy,
then what is my purpose?
I've never known to take care of myself,
but I would take care of you in a heartbeat.
I don't know how to stop,
I don't know how to love correctly,
and I definitely don't know how to be loved.
If I keep giving,
what does it mean if you give back?
I think I'd feel nauseated knowing
you spent so much energy into me.
I'm not your sink, I'm the output source
and I'd never let it be the other way around.
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 12:04 AM UTC
I'm being called to give evidence
of my persistence to growth,
to life,
and so I continue on
and let my hair down.
Dec 28, 2021
Dec 28, 2021 at 11:41 PM UTC
Have you ever woken up inside a flashback?
Do you know how it feels to be pushed down into your own body after years of being pulled apart?
I awoke many times in a haze,
wondering what year it was;
months ago I finally came to and I thought I was trapped in 2014
and instead of waking to go to school,
like I was so convinced of,
I went to work and went through the motions of something I somehow knew all too well.
How did I go so many years in this separation of self?
I awoke to all of this abundance and responsibility I don't remember creating.
I could have cried out screams of mercy
for whatever stole all these years
to give them back.
I typed away at my computer,
but it all felt so foreign.
I was supposed to be in high school;
I'm supposed to be myself.
I've awoken many times in absolute fear,
not even sure who I am,
where I am,
what time period I'm in.
It's terrifying and I'm so tired of being ripped apart from reality like this.
Have you ever been consumed by a flashback?
Hurled and spit out by the jaws of the past
and regurgitated into the present?
I've never understood why it has to keep happening.
I am tired of living in waking memory;
I want this tortuous cycle to end.
Dec 20, 2021
Dec 20, 2021 at 8:20 PM UTC
Was I ever really his favorite?
From the words, he spilled,
I would have been inclined to believe it,
but his actions say otherwise.
Was I ever anyone's favorite?
I've been chronically revered but overlooked at the same time.
They spoke so highly of me, for someone so apt to abandon at a moment's notice.
I couldn't imagine him willing to take the time to get to know me,
and yet I expended my energy to know him;
it's funny,
to think I vowed my love to someone so distant.
I have never been the favorite,
I have always been the connecting piece from one person to another,
leading them to each other like a sheep dog with its flock;
I have always been alone,
One way or another.
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 5:51 PM UTC
In the early hours of the morning,
you asked me to marry you;
I pushed it off, taking it as a joke,
but you leapt up from our bed anyway,
and I protested, saying there were no rings in sight,
and yet, you wrapped paper, so delicately, into a ring for me.
From the dim-lit room,
I saw you kneel on one knee to ask me.
I swore you were mocking me,
but you persisted that we elope,
and even then I couldn't take you at your word.
Did you really love me like that?
And if so, why did you leave?
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 5:44 PM UTC
From week in to week out,
the cracks in foundation do form,
and the ceiling begins to leak;
should those in the castle's embrace choose to evacuate?
The lovers huddle in the stillness of their room and contemplate their position,
but something crumbling so quickly needs an equally quick decision.
Dare they take a break and flee from the impending ruin?
And what does it say about them if the structure of their loving home won't support them?
And if the lovers falter
from the tower to the uneasiness below,
will there be enough arms to catch them both?
Nov 13, 2021
Nov 13, 2021 at 3:12 PM UTC
"God, I really wish she talked like you,
dressed like you;
how do I get her to think like you do?"
Policing her to be like me will never serve you
because the one who does me best, is me.
Be truthful with yourself,
when you ask her to behave like this,
do you dream of me?
You cannot easily transpose my image onto your lover,
because no one else loves like me,
talks like me,
dresses like me,
can transfix in your mind like me.
Do you love her like you love me?
Does she know the blueprint you use to mold her from?
Could she handle knowing what I know?
Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
If I have the energy to heal,
then do I have the energy to expend?
To let myself try to love again?
Is it wise to take the little bit I have
And turn it to another and not myself?
Shouldn't I have learned by now?
Why am I not more reserved?
This energy isn't truly in abundance,
and would it not be selfish to think the small amount I have to give is enough for someone else?
It is barely enough for me.
This heart is so foolish,
and I have yet to learn how to tame her rash desires;
I wish she knew to quiet down.
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 9:36 PM UTC
Every time I push people away,
I wait for the door to rat-a-tat-tat
and revolve back into my face;
I had never considered how often I steal opportunities away from myself by running.
I run until I collapse,
and I've stolen compassion, and understanding with every half-sprint I take away from everyone that has ever cared for me,
because what do you do when they genuinely love you?
I don't know why it is so hard to believe that they could love me,
or that I am not wasting their time by asking for help,
but I know that I live in this doublethink,
where I both love myself, but no one else could possibly love me too.
Haven't you seen me like this before?
I'm on the brink of understanding
I have a difficult time loving myself in actions, just in theories in my head.
This is why I run like this,
and by constantly shielding myself from perceived danger,
I am actually blocking potential kindness too.
If I shut off the danger and the kindness, what will I have left for myself? Nothing.
I can't keep doing this,
I am going to have to let them in.
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 9:34 PM UTC
It's so easy when I self-explain;
it means that everything is okay,
and I can convince myself of something,
even when it's not true.
It's what I did for you.
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 9:29 PM UTC
What if you were to see my tears of joy, instead of sadness?
What if I were to bask in the warm waves and let them consume me?
What would the world be like if I could branch out my wings and fly like this more often?
Would you even recognize me?
Would you understand all that I missed during my times of sorrow?
Would you notice when I am reborn into happiness, and will you remember it too?
God, I hope so.
This feeling is transformative,
to be alive like this,
and it is so comforting to be
held in the universe's embrace.
Perhaps you'll get a taste of who I've always been.
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 9:25 PM UTC
Tiny porcelain masks;
why not see what happens when you watch them fall?
Look at how
fragile and delicate they are,
each one hand-crafted to hide away
life's torments.
Be honest with yourself,
and retire them
before they crack against your own will.
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 1:37 AM UTC
People keep trying to tell me that it wasn't real love,
and I know how wrong they are when they say it;
people don't want to face the idea that a bad person is capable of love,
but they are,
and a lot of bad people have loved me.
Sep 20, 2021
Sep 20, 2021 at 9:59 PM UTC
I always took to doubting myself
and so it was no surprise I did
again and again and again
when you had me under your fingertips.
That night I finally saw you,
after months of being apart,
you hoisted me up on your bed
and the look in your eyes seemed so foreign;
there was a hunger there I had never seen before.
I was a bit uncomfortable,
but I missed you so much I didn't care
to think on it further;
but your touch was different too,
and for a split second, I thought,
I'd almost jolt up and leave.
It was so bizarre to me,
you used to be so scared to have me to yourself,
and all of a sudden your hands
were no longer afraid, and,
your grip was a bit stronger than before;
I should have known something was wrong.
This was the closest I had ever come to
feeling like your prey,
and it wasn't right;
every other time you held me,
I could feel the restraint,
that you had chosen a gentle touch
instead of being so demanding,
and I thought that meant you loved me enough
to be delicate.
Was that the case?
Why, now, were you able to be different?
A mechanism like that shouldn't be so easy to switch on and off.
What happened?
Was it becoming too difficult to keep up your facade?
Did you even realize you didn't change back for me?
Why do I always doubt myself?
Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 6:30 PM UTC
What did that look mean
when you glanced at me like that?
Yes, it was true,
another person's lips had grazed mine
when you left me the first time,
and now that you'd come back,
you seemed to know something I didn't.
I hadn't lied
when I told you that
your lips felt right against my own
and his smokey breath did not,
and then the secret you had held was revealed
only slightly, of course,
and I didn't even notice.
When I told you that
I had wished I was kissing you instead,
what I had first thought was a look of love
was actually your look of embarrassment and shame
and this was because, you too, were a man with a smokey breath,
leaving imprints of your lips on another's
long before we had parted ways.
So, it wasn't her who kissed you first;
you filthy little liar,
and you were starting to feel bad
about what you had done.
I was none the wiser,
and sympathized with you,
thinking you too had felt like me,
a big misunderstanding between two people
and that you'd come back to me
because you realized my lips were better than another's,
not that you liked the idea
of getting away with infidelity
and then rushing back into my arms.
I always missed these signs,
and it eats away at me now
when I think about how many
times I should have known.
Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 6:14 PM UTC
Why am I made to feel guilty for having loved him?
It wasn't my fault that he wasn't who he said he was,
and it didn't make my love any less genuine.
Why do I have to brunt all of this shame
for my innocent first real attempt at a safe love?
How was that fair to me?
All I wanted was to love and be loved.
But no, I had to pull myself together,
and immediately turn to shunning,
mocking, and avoiding him,
not even a month after he left me;
I had to repress how I had felt before to show face.
No one else had loved him as I did,
I was the odd one out,
and so I had to "hate" him too.
I still loved him; it wasn't fair.
He ruined everything
and I couldn't say anything about it,
stuck in the battle of knowing
I had to stand for justice and condemnation
of a man who had last held me in his arms
months before.
His bad behavior, in turn,
stole the grieving process from me.
I had to skip all the steps and lock it away
to protect others, to be strong,
and it wasn't fair.
I'm tired of feeling miserable
for having these good memories of him,
and it isn't my fault that he did bad things;
I just wish this never happened at all.
Sep 4, 2021
Sep 4, 2021 at 11:42 PM UTC
No one warned me about healing,
and that when you begin to let go,
it means working through all the things
you ignored along the way:
every weeping wound,
every halted, furious scream,
every memory you tried to forget,
and even the things you never knew
you'd felt in the first place.
To let go of everything that no longer serves,
I have to go back in time
and tell myself how it is all okay now,
and hope that will be enough
to set me free again.
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 11:38 PM UTC
Ask me to fall in love?
Love is a sickness,
and should it leave such scars
as it had the last time I was afflicted,
I might shrivel up and die.
Dare it to leave wounds without sutures?
Skin without scratches?
Bodies without bruises?
Two afflictions of the mind are unbearable:
Both of two in love
And the sadness that sullies it.
Distance has become my new lover,
and I cower behind her,
I beg her not to let me get hurt like before,
Lest I fall sick again.
The thought of being in love with anything else feels
Intense,
Like fingers digging much too far
Into my skin,
Drawing the deep oxygenated blood to the surface.
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 11:15 PM UTC
Foreign bodies with foreign bodies,
unknown hands with unknown hands,
we said we are in love together,
but we don't know where we stand;
such is the torture
of ghosts loving ghosts,
you never dared to tell me who you were,
nor I shared with you who I am.
Look at us now,
just two shadows in love,
no wonder when the two converged,
they slipped right through each other.
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 11:02 PM UTC
not sure if you want me
or want just *** with me.
or perhaps it's the idea of me
and the idea of *** with me.
the false narrative walls
have me cooped up inside myself
which is where you want to be.
but, is that where I want you to be?
answer me.
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 12:23 AM UTC