It’s Not Fair.
It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I feel inadequate. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I feel like I’m not enough. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I am stuck as some fucked up, paranoid version of myself. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I feel as though my self-worth is diminishing. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I am afraid to be touched with a lovers hand. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I have nightmares. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I fall apart every now and then. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I feel broken. It’s not fair that because of what YOU did to me I am not me. It’s not fair what YOU did to me.
Accidental
I accidentally took this photo. I was honestly trying to take a “sexy” picture for a boy. But look at my face- I don’t look sexy I don’t look happy or sad. I look numb. That worries me. Do I feel anymore? Or am I too afraid to hurt?
You keep wondering what’s in the other hand, you’ll never actually know what you have right in front of you.
bottle one and toss the other
Some days you treat me as though I’m the plague. And others as though I’m the cure for it.
Outpour of Emotion
It’s like I’m holding a cracked mug full of water. For a while it works, I can stop it from falling apart. But slowly water starts pushing through and eventually I break. And I’m drowning in my own emotion.
I long to fall into the nape of your neck and breathe in your familiar scent as I cascade into a dream far too beautiful to ever recover from.
Flow like Water
I have not written in quite some time, so I am taking it upon myself to let the words flow, let all the rules go. My stomach feels the way I imagine a frog would jumping between lily pads, flopping up and down, tingling, a sense of excitement and anxiety tossed together. I can’t tell if it’s from the McDonald’s or the thoughts of him running through my mind. I wish I could pick him up right now, have him hop in my car, we’d drive around without a map (or rather a GPS because let’s face it, this is 2014) until we found a nice place to settle in. Perhaps it’s a park with a swing set or maybe an empty parking lot, a fallen tree next to a creek. Any one of these places would suffice, as long as we can be together. Just the two of us, escape the real world for an hour or two. Live in the moment, live in sin, live within each other. I dream about a day where he storms through the side door, frantically looking for me, longing to have me in his arms again, to press his lips against mine. With him I don’t have to be anyone but me, I don’t hold anything back. He knows all of me, my strengths, my weaknesses and he “love[s] the fucking shit out of [me] for everything [I am] and aren’t.” I want to lay next to you, look up at the stars and just listen to music. I want to hold your hand, look into your eyes and read your soul.
Adrift
I’ve lost myself again. Or maybe I just found myself again. This is the only me I really know. I say I don’t want to be defined by my eating disorder, but it controls everything, it all comes back to that. To “pulling the trigger” and let go, to control one piece of this tornado of chaos that I have found myself in. I suppose it’s all my fault though. Because while this is the only part of my life I feel I can control, that is exactly the point. I can choose not to. But I don’t. I stick my fingers down my throat and at once I’m at ease. I can’t look at myself. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Its like I am staring at a mannequin, there’s a body there but where’s the soul? The familiar mannerisms and smile. I gave it all to him. He has all of me. But he wants nothing to do with me either.
And every time the door opens I’m still hopeful that you’ll come storming through saying you want me too.
arianaaevans 