I have honestly forgotten what it feels like to be loved and wanted. It’s as if people grow bored and tired so they replace you with something new and shiny. What does it take to stay important these days? I feel forgotten. I am just a memory in your book. Another story you tell to your friends. Tell them how I was a girl who cried. The girl who begged. The girl who just wanted to be loved the way...
When you hate yourself
It’s really hard to forget all your mistakes.
To forget it to forgive,
And I knew I would never forget.
If I were to forget,
I would be no better than them.
If I were to forget and forgive myself
Then I would be too comfortable in my skin.
I can’t forget. I can’t forgive.
I deserve this don’t I?
I must of done something wrong right?
It’s not safe to be comfortable....
“What’s it like?”
“What do you mean?”
“To be free? To go where you want?”
“Well I don’t know, what’s it like for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“To have a home and family? To not worry about where your next meal comes from or wether or not you’ll be chased off the streets? What’s it like to be free to live instead of survive?“
“I guess I didn’t think of that”
“You’ll learn pup. We are man’s best f...
Tell me your secrets.
Show me your scars.
Give me your touch.
Let me feel your breath.
The sins you feed are my favorite snack.
She whispered sweet nothings.
He gave her a bite of forbidden fruit.
He wanted nothing but her soul.
He wanted nothing but her love.
She strung him along until he was consumed.
It was like talking to the devil.
She made him into his own worst fears....
It’s okay.
She gives a smile.
Yeah I’m fine.
A little laugh.
It’s nothing really.
She turns away.
Please stop asking if I’m fine.
She’s calm.
Collected.
“What’s wrong?”
STOP.
He knows she’s ready to break.
She shakes it off.
That’s when he knows.
She wants to cry, she wants to scream.
He’s almost relieved.
She’s not okay.
It’s like there was a relief in feeling the storms approach...
We are connected in more ways than you can imagine.
Never coming eye to eye, but we have met before.
You know me even if you can’t recall the time we met.
We are all connected after all.
The man that talks the towers looks down at the anxious people.
Remember how we all looked up in anticipation?
Remember how we all in that moment froze in time?
Apparently all our shit didn’t matter anymor...
I open my eyes and there’s that smile.
It’s like you are ready for me,
Stroking that strand of hair back,
Kissing me on the forehead,
And simply saying good morning,
I love you.
I love that smile.
You ask me about my dreams and tell me about your nightmares and all I want to do is hold you close and protect you.
Even talking about your fears you have that smile.
I’m so grateful for that smile...
It was there
And then it wasn’t.
I can see it clearly
But then it gets fuzzy.
What happened that night?
Where was I?
Who was I with?
I can feel every neuron in my brain working and fighting to find answers that just aren’t coming.
Why is red the only color I can see?
Why is it everywhere?
Seriously someone tell me what happened here.
I am so confused.
All I see is red....
They say it’s survival of the fittest.
What defines fit though?
Text book answer says fitness is determined by how well one is able to reproduce and pass their traits.
But what if fitness is much more than that?
What if it’s your ability to protect ones self from harming yourself?
What if the real challenge of survival is a battle with just you?...