5:37 PM, Sunday May 17th
Mini poetry dump:
- “she’s not the type to help & grow with me and still be loyal.” i replay the same message in my head over and over again like a song on loop. consistently making me realize that he doesn’t believe it can work. and if he doesn’t, how can i? we exchange the usual good mornings and lackluster conversations almost every day but he never knows what’s on my mind. and i can never tell him. because i know i will get the continuous regurgitated answer of “i would never hurt you.” but that first sentence shows that you don’t even believe in us. so how can i believe you?
- b.s.l-
to be blindsided by love is a real thing. i used to think of the term as a scapegoat ppl would use to avoid giving a true answer, but now i know it’s real. the last month i have been unbelievably happy. there were a few rough weeks but i still chose to believe that maybe it was my fault. maybe, just maybe you weren’t like everyone else. but i’m starting to realize maybe you are. i choose to believe that some things happen by accident. or maybe i wasn’t fulfilling your every need at that moment in time & it was my fault for certain things to happen. the universe finally gave me what i’ve been asking for and i keep messing up.
- i was infatuated the second we spoke because he was like a breath of fresh air coming through my window on an early spring morning. with our constant jokes and arguing over who’s music taste had been better. he asked about my past and listened as i rambled on, and i was fascinated at how much he understood or tried to understand, even when he didn’t. i admired the way he was so dedicated to his work, and even after a long day, he made time for me. i was so invested in the way he would let certain words escape his lips when reading me his poetry. i was in love with him after the first month, when he became the first and last thought on my mind; and not a single day passed, without him being on it constantly. i wanted to listen to him talk about his family and how their days had been and i pictured myself driving upstate with him. i wanted to just be in his presence, to have his company; to stay there in the moment for a little longer than forever. he inspired me to be better and believed in me. he believed that i would make it, and so, i fell in love with the man who made me feel loved when i thought i was unlovable.
- the ex-heroin addict and i sit underneath a rotting apple tree. we’ve taken our breaks too early and the night is now in full swing. there is very little common ground here between the college drop-out and the teacher’s pet but she talks about the stars and how wine tastes like old Hollywood movies. and I see how her freckles make a mosaic like the ones she made before her hands started to shake before the
cravings came and ate her alive from the inside out. she called herself an artist like she was reading her own obituary. she’s thin as ice, outside and in but i know it’s recovery and i know how tempting slipping back underwater can be. she scratches her arm in the place where mine used to be littered with scars. she pulls out cigarettes shyly, a replacement poison, a smoking lighthouse on a vacant ocean. i watch her inhale and her hands stop shaking. she asks me if i want to get lost at sea, she hands me the lighter and i refuse. she inhales then exhales the smell of burning apples. here with this ex-heroin addict i realize that she’ll never escape the cravings. trading in our family for her newfound love of a needle. I hate watching you destroy yourself. I can see it, the drugs are wrecking you from the inside out. You won’t listen to me, they’ve closed your ears off to the sound of the voice you claimed to love. I know this isn’t you, I know that the person I’m seeing is a shell of who you really are, but that doesn’t alleviate the pain that tears through my body as I watch you break down in pursuit of your next hit. I wonder whose pain is worse? I wish I could fix you. I can’t. I know I can’t. so i guess now i can only see you as a heroin addict in my eyes and not a sister anymore.
- On nights like these I don’t understand how anyone will ever come to love me. I am difficult, complicated. I feel like my friends don’t really care anymore and have lost all patience with me. I hate telling anyone that I’m depressed cause they’ll think I’m doing it for attention. And I know that things will be okay and there is going to be a day soon when i will be so glad that I pushed through it but I’m tired of being told that “it’s gonna be alright.” I’m tired of telling people that I’m just tired, that I just need to sleep. Cause yeah I am tired but sleep is not going to be the solution to any of my problems. There has been few people that I’ve ever had to break their hearts and if I did then I did it for the best because I knew it was the right choice. But I’ve had my heart broken countless times. I think that I’m an easy person to fall for but too complicated to continue to love. People are scared and frustrated when I’m in the equation too long and they leave. They leave me for someone else most of the time too and that leaves me feeling like shit. I really do give my heart and soul into people and they always seem to turn away from it. The part that bothers me the most is that people assume my life is just great. Even my close friends think my life is a dream because I’m pretty and talk to boys, so my life must be great? But looks can’t get you far. And it hurts me more knowing that some of the boys I talk to just want me for my body and the boy that I really like is almost as unstable as I am. I have people that care for me but in times like these my mind doesn’t care about that. I try so hard to make everyone around me so fucking happy. I try to bring light everywhere I go even if that means putting on a show on my shittiest days so that I’m not bringing anyone down. I just get to the point like now when I’ve done absolutely nothing but lay in bed. I start to feel so drained and useless and like everyone has forgotten about me. Someone could look me dead in the eyes right now and tell me they love me and I wouldn’t believe it. I feel like I’m rotting on the inside. But I don’t know how to stop damaging myself with this everyday cycle.