I’ll hold out for tonight, The same as every night, But I swear this time tomorrow I’ll be better, I’ll be whole. It’s not that I enjoy lying But it’s the only thing I own; My words are still my words, Even if they have no home. So while everything is burning I’ll keep pretending … Continue reading I want to hurt me, to prove that you were nothing special. I want you to see my scars, so I can scream “See?! I don’t need you to break me! I can do it just fine all alone!”
Tag: loser
“Something is only considered trash because someone comes along and labels it as trash. So when I say I’m trash, it’s not that I’m inherently nothing, but after 20 some years of experiences, I can’t define myself as anything but trash.”
There was nothing I could have done.. ~Do you really believe that? That there was nothing you could have done, nothing at all?~ I just wanted to be loved, to feel what love was supposed to be, that forever and always type of love that grows stronger each day, bringing smiles and family and so … Continue reading “Something is only considered trash because someone comes along and labels it as trash. So when I say I’m trash, it’s not that I’m inherently nothing, but after 20 some years of experiences, I can’t define myself as anything but trash.”
I don’t know why I bother.
It’s 85 degrees outside, and the air in this old office isn’t what you’d call “top notch”, so my shirt is sticking to my chair, and my shirt sleeve is stained with forehead sweat. I walked in, sat down, and the heat made me sick within minutes. I’ve been up to empty my guts 3 … Continue reading I don’t know why I bother.
It’s not Hell on Earth, it’s just Hell.
“People can break into pieces, and every single one of those pieces still has enough of us to feel, enough of us to love, enough of us to break again...We may only have 1 life to live, but in that life, a person can die more than once.” I tried to wash this all away … Continue reading It’s not Hell on Earth, it’s just Hell.
“If fate is the reason for my everything, then why am I baring these burdens alone? I never asked this, so why? I just want to know why..” (part 3 of 5)
I want fate to touch My crowning breath, To blister in its fever As it traces crimson Around naked necks. It’s a vibrant sensation, Echoing the shade of dusk Throughout my bones Until they are reduced To Georgia Red Clay.
I’m a big fan of slow Mondays. I feel like everyone is the same, just trying to get things started. It makes me think it’s not too late to start over.
I prefer sliding doors over the old fashioned 2-3 hinge models. It’s much easier to slam the latter, and while I’ve had my fair share of rage needing an outlet, it never appealed to me as a good way to vent. Why, you ask? Well, to put it simply, I hate the sound. It’s a … Continue reading I’m a big fan of slow Mondays. I feel like everyone is the same, just trying to get things started. It makes me think it’s not too late to start over.
I’m only wearing these emotions. It’s all painted on passion, washed away during any rainy day.
It eats away at you from the outside in, or the inside out, or whatever fucking way makes sense to you. Honestly, it doesn’t mean a fucking thing, how this world breaks us. In the end, it doesn’t matter how a soul is ripped apart, because nobody has time to spare grief for another person's … Continue reading I’m only wearing these emotions. It’s all painted on passion, washed away during any rainy day.
I haven’t prayed to God, any God, in years, so don’t mistake my screaming to the sky as blaming God for anything.
You bare your teeth to the pavement, And a heavy throat rumbles Like jagged thunder. It’s not yet time for the fireflies, So you are left with chewed fingernails, Coffee kisses and limestone skin. The Moon is calling you, Because you are a tide, Slowly spreading your cerulean Towards the edge of creation, Only to … Continue reading I haven’t prayed to God, any God, in years, so don’t mistake my screaming to the sky as blaming God for anything.
The silence carries with it weight; oxygen now exists in my lungs as heavy air, my throat unable to swallow such a solid mass, unwilling to give passage to that last breath, as I wasted it on words you never heard.
I speak through my actions, louder than my words, Yet my words seem to scream off this page in a way my body never could. I write down the truth I’m either too afraid to verbalize or... No, that’s just it: a fear pays me well to hold my tongue, Demons, both real and living … Continue reading The silence carries with it weight; oxygen now exists in my lungs as heavy air, my throat unable to swallow such a solid mass, unwilling to give passage to that last breath, as I wasted it on words you never heard.