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#retrace
I'm Free" Such a con man convincing me that I was so beautiful, his saving grace, With his hands, he painted my face, With make-up I would have to retrace, I would dress pretty just for him, I kept my body fit and trim, Though for real, I didn't know it was a messed up, I tried to be his best partner, his loving wife. Shocked and and scared every time, like it was something new, that just began, He'd beg my forgiveness again & again, how I always forgave, forgetting all the prior distress, just to continue day after day. Pulling my hair, using your fist to paint my lips the color of crimson red, fearing each time I'd die. It even happened when you weren't full of whiskey, I'd have moments of reality, knowing I had to get out for my babies, You had everyone convinced you were innocent, I was the one that suffered your vengeance, like an illusion, everyone took your side, they all believed every time you lied. I have no more shame, no more fear,
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Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 9:26 PM UTC
I'm Free
Do you ever just think about how you ended up thinking about something, and then try and retrace your thoughts? . . . Why am I trying to figure out how I thought about this? . . . Ohhhh. That's how I ended up thinking about this. . . . Why can't I remember? Ugh. . . . Why did I think about this? . . . I need to write something for HP. It's been a while. . . . I need to sleep.
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Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 2:25 PM UTC
Train of Thought
I am sorry I am so ****** up I am a broken clock; an empty cup I try to retrace my path to find out where I went wrong What broke me and why I am no longer strong But before I figure out how I ended up here My footsteps fade and disappear
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Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
Footsteps
This happy and smiley face Looks like a silver moon Don't move away so soon I would like to retrace. I would touch your shine I want to enjoy your smile but you're going to be agile, Sad to say you're not mine! I drew you in my eyes I kept you in my mind I still believe you're so kind but you wouldn't say, 'Yes'. Today I'm just a blank page in your book, nothing more, even you loved me before! I still want to be your beloved!
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
I'd Be Your Beloved
When i am lost at a crossroads, unsure of the direction to take...i find retracing my steps and starting over to be nifty
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
Steps
It's almost funny how things change. How surprised I am that no matter how stuck in the past I tend to be life around me still moves on, it's like my heart beats backwards while time ticks forward. My heart beats rapidly, knowing where I was going before I recognized the turns I was taking. I'm a sucker for memories and I came here to try and breathe like I used to be able to do but it's different. The snow has melted much like who I used to be and there are no deep conversations just a half moon and a lit up skyline. I want to lean against the rails and remember the ghost of somebody who pressed me up against them but much like him they're gone. They were thrown away like our time together. I remember walking along the edge to overlook the chunks of ice thinking maybe if I fell onto one of them they'd take me somewhere better, now I'm too scared to climb up. How many calories would I burn falling into the lapping waves and fighting to not drown in them? Not enough. Never enough. And I want to say that's not the point but it is. I can't see a forward so I walk backwards and retrace the steps to who I used to be and it brings me back to sickness and I don't want to fight it because pills have to be taken with food and I don't eat enough to fit them into my life. This is what I've become, or its who I've always been. All I can think about is how alone I am and will be and I'm over the moon that soon I'll have everyone I love with me again, it tears me apart to think of when they leave, leave me to figure out if I'm more than any alibi I've ever shown. I'm trapped and I chose this for myself but that doesn't make it hurt any less. It was a self fulfilling prophecy, I wanted to escape who I've been but she catches up with me every time I cry in the parking lot I used to feel so alive in, every time I hear about self inflicted wounds I remember the feeling of my own and I wish they were there again to remind me I'm human and I should treat myself as such. But I'm empty, as empty as the railing that doesn't recognize me as empty as the ice less water and as empty as a plate of food. I'm not sick I'm stuck and I don't want help my Astoria will claim me and when it does I'll claw my way out because I'm a fighter and no matter what I've been through I've always proved that. My mother told me I always play the victim when I try to tell her how I feel and I let her have that. The only victim I've ever been is a victim of myself, of my mind and my heart and I'd dare say my soul if I thought I had one. There's no philosopher in the world who can save me now and no person who thinks to. I don't want to be saved, I just want to feel alive. And some days I do but today I don't. Right now I just want to close my eyes and remember things my brain has let disappear, I want to make something out of nothing and tell someone how I feel without thinking I'm being too much trouble or drawing attention to myself. I want to be alive again but I let such little things **** me slowly and its up to me. Always up to me.
0
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
23
It's almost funny how things change. How surprised I am that no matter how stuck in the past I tend to be life around me still moves on, it's like my heart beats backwards while time ticks forward. My heart beats rapidly, knowing where I was going before I recognized the turns I was taking. I'm a sucker for memories and I came here to try and breathe like I used to be able to do but it's different. The snow has melted much like who I used to be and there are no deep conversations just a half moon and a lit up skyline. I want to lean against the rails and remember the ghost of somebody who pressed me up against them but much like him they're gone. They were thrown away like our time together. I remember walking along the edge to overlook the chunks of ice thinking maybe if I fell onto one of them they'd take me somewhere better, now I'm too scared to climb up. How many calories would I burn falling into the lapping waves and fighting to not drown in them? Not enough. Never enough. And I want to say that's not the point but it is. I can't see a forward so I walk backwards and retrace the steps to who I used to be and it brings me back to sickness and I don't want to fight it because pills have to be taken with food and I don't eat enough to fit them into my life. This is what I've become, or its who I've always been. All I can think about is how alone I am and will be and I'm over the moon that soon I'll have everyone I love with me again, it tears me apart to think of when they leave, leave me to figure out if I'm more than any alibi I've ever shown. I'm trapped and I chose this for myself but that doesn't make it hurt any less. It was a self fulfilling prophecy, I wanted to escape who I've been but she catches up with me every time I cry in the parking lot I used to feel so alive in, every time I hear about self inflicted wounds I remember the feeling of my own and I wish they were there again to remind me I'm human and I should treat myself as such. But I'm empty, as empty as the railing that doesn't recognize me as empty as the ice less water and as empty as a plate of food. I'm not sick I'm stuck and I don't want help my Astoria will claim me and when it does I'll claw my way out because I'm a fighter and no matter what I've been through I've always proved that. My mother told me I always play the victim when I try to tell her how I feel and I let her have that. The only victim I've ever been is a victim of myself, of my mind and my heart and I'd dare say my soul if I thought I had one. There's no philosopher in the world who can save me now and no person who thinks to. I don't want to be saved, I just want to feel alive. And some days I do but today I don't. Right now I just want to close my eyes and remember things my brain has let disappear, I want to make something out of nothing and tell someone how I feel without thinking I'm being too much trouble or drawing attention to myself. I want to be alive again but I let such little things **** me slowly and its up to me. Always up to me.
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