I’m sorry I’m not good enough
I’m sorry I’m too loud
I’m sorry you don’t like me
But none of that is my fault
I can’t be what you want
And I hurt myself because of that
You don’t see what you say affects me
You don’t notice the self-inflicted wounds
You just keep adding on and on
On way I’ll break ya know,
With every words said against me
Another cut is made
Soon enough there won’t be enough room
When the day comes
Maybe I’ll have had enough of this abuse
Until then,
I’ll take what you give me
I’m just sorry you can’t see the good in others
I’m sorry you can’t see your own flaws
But sometimes sorry isn’t enough

Everything
I felt,

You did not

My life is what I choose to make it.
I can choose today to look at the experiences of my life in a negative or positive way.
Every experience is there to teach me something.
Is my behavior today one I would be proud of?
Would I tell those I love about it?
Or would I try to hide it, and sneak around in order to do it?
Does it feed my soul, or does it strip away another piece of who I am?
Every choice I make, everything I do, will do one... Or the other.
I can live my life to build myself up, or tear myself down.
To bring joy to others, or pain.  
To prove those who abused me right, or to stand above and take my power back.
To spread love or hate, to bring hope or fear.  
To live in peace... Or chaos.
Once I am aware, I am then responsible.
There are no more excuses, no more denial, just a choice.
And it's all mine.
What will I choose today?

January 15, 2012

Tell me
Of the ocean
That swells
And recedes as
It gives your words form
A single sunbeam
And
I'll sell all I own
Because
There is no price
I will not pay
For a seat at your table

I am so tired of endings
I don't wanna start anything at all

I am tired of losing things
I don't wanna feel like having anything at all

I am so used to being lost
I don't wanna be found anymore

I am tired of faking smiles
I don't know what's real anymore

I am so used of being broken
I feel nothing at all

Some forevers
only last
for seconds

It's been one month since my last letter.
This month, I did not think of you, I really succeeded that.
Sure there is still certain things which reminds me of you, some songs, but I succeeded.

Your name leave no more that bitter taste in my mouth,
It doesn't play in repeat for hours in my head,
Your voice is a distant memory and your perfume is forgotten.
I still think of you sometimes, but it's different now, i am cured of you.

One day you will understand that I was made for you,
That I would have made you happy,
I would have give you everything of me, even  my soul.

One day you will regret,
You will think of it, vaguely, that it would have work, if you tried.