you

i regret every part of you.

you ate me alive out there,

in the field you coaxed me into.

you chose me,

hunted me,

tortured me.

i think you’re sicker than what we both imagined.

you say you’re an advocate

for the ill and the unstable,

but you are queen of playing pretend

with your faux fun and smiles

on your social platforms.

i learnt a lot from you,

how i shouldn’t trust,

how i shouldn’t bother

with anyone who see’s straight through me,

onto the next, bigger and better

thing;

but i regret you, nonetheless.

i hope you someday know that

you may have tried to share your misery

with someone that would have

done their utmost to keep you safe

in this world,

protect you from your fears,

and find you in your dark place

to sit with you until you were

ready to come out.

and you succeeded

in sharing,

for a short while.

i was miserable.

was.

i didn’t

i didn’t think of you this morning

for the first time

in months.

when i realised i hadn’t,

i smiled

because it means i’m a step closer

to being myself again.

you changed me

i couldn’t say for the better

but changed nonetheless.

you made me feel the smallest

i had ever

and day by day, i grow

bigger than i thought i could

i used to say i adored you infinitely

but now

i am infinite in myself

been told

i’ve been told that maybe i feel differently

i feel on a scale of -5 to 15 instead of the usual

0-10

i’ve been told that i place too much hope in people

that it’s time to stop giving

myself

to people who don’t care.

maybe i do feel harder than most,

how do i limit my scope

because,

i don’t want to feel like this now

or ever again.

i’ve been told that i’ll learn from it

but i’ve told myself that it wasn’t worth it

so how is that a lesson.

how do i feel less

than right now

without being numb

Silent Battle

I sew my days together with a very thin thread

I make up a tapestry I can hide beneath

And sneak a peak through if I can that day.

This thread keeps breaking

With the help of a poor sewer

And I don’t want them to intrude

On my very haphazardly put together piece

of Art

that I tried so hard to make look presentable.

I battle a silent war everyday

To get me through the task.

To have someone ask for my time

And aid

And break my project too

Means the tapestry doesn’t get made

To hide beneath.

Exposed & More Lonely Than Before.

Enough

I have always been enough for me, when it is just me.

Now, I fear I won’t be enough for someone else – how do I fit the mould of what they want, when I can only just offer me as I am.

They need so much – and even if they get it – it won’t ever be enough – they can’t be happy. I can’t help them to be happy.

So I won’t be enough.

Am I okay with not ever being enough to them? When I feel enough on my own?

I’m not sure – is that unusual how I feel, again I doubt.

I have suffered, suffered beyond anyone’s comprehension because I don’t talk about it, not really in the way I want to. There are no words to respond to what I want to say. So why say them aloud.

I have seen the darkest parts of humanity, the sadness that turns your world black. But I’m here still fighting every damn day and I don’t know if I can be faced with never being enough too. I need to know I’m doing okay, I need the pat on the back, I need things too. I have the capacity to give and give but I need to expect some return, I need reassurance and to be told they are here for me, and want me just as me and all of the things I am.

My feelings are okay to have too, I have to remember I don’t need to feel bad for feeling. I don’t want to fight myself for someone else. If I’m jealous I’m allowed to be – if I’m sad – if I’m mad – why pull on my brakes when they don’t. I wonder if they even see me as me, or whether they see themself and how I affect them.

I don’t want to be here right now, anywhere but here

help me

help me lose myself

in your words of wonderment

and skin of silk.

i know not what you feel

or who you touch

or why you touch them,

but i want your hands on me 

around my middle

with lips on my lobe

whispering sweetness and honesties.

help me be mazeless

strip me of the walls

until i’m lying naked

and free

and you possess me 

Lied to

I don’t like being lied to,

And I know you lied to me.

You think you’re so clever,

and you think you can still claim my trust.

You’re wrong.

I see you,

I see your manipulation and your

vindictive side.

You’ll make a great lawyer.

I see why you chose that

Because you never let yourself be to blame –

When you’re the one with the plan –

The one who knows exactly how to get their way.

I see you for exactly what you are,

Don’t think that I don’t.

1000s of selves

Lying stagnant until called upon

There are 1000s of selves

Not one cohesive unit of reaction

But multiple identities wrapped up in one

Waiting for the opportunity to greet

And be seen.

It’s rather scary that there may be a new self

That is uncovered is the new territories

What if I don’t like them

What if I I don’t like me.

Happy

I want to scream with happiness

That my body can hardly take it

That the feeling is so overwhelming it feels like I have a glow

Coming through me right in the centre

I don’t want it to be fleeting

I want it to overtake all the tiny things

And transpire and transform

The gold lining

Forget silver

I can feel my sense of self moving

I have no control

It spirals and swoops

I’m not sure where it’s taking me

But I want to follow it without question

Free me