You've No Clue What You Do To Me

I'm started to think I'm supposed to let you go. Have I been lying to myself? I thought the meaning was to finally be with you, for us both to be happy together. But is it really to appreciate it all and let it go? How could I ever? Have you? I wish someone could hand me every answer. I have pushed them all away because I've been waiting for you. But I hate waiting. I've been defending you and saying it's not your fault and I was stupid and who could blame you for not talking to me and you really are a nice guy for so long that I believe all of the made-up stories, all the lies. It's ridiculous. I can't let you go. Am I even supposed to? How do I know? How can anyone be even close to who you are? Sorry. Who you were. How do I find that? If I can't find it, am I alone? And where does that leave you? I thought I could let you go, I swear I did. But I can't understand you. And that entices me. It strangles me. It kills me.

"And the hardest part was letting go, not taking part. And the strangest thing was waiting for that bell to ring. It was the strangest start.

I could feel it go down, bittersweet. I could taste in my mouth, silver lining the cloud. Oh and I wish that I could work it out. And the hardest part was letting go, not taking part. You really broke my heart.

And I tried to sing, but I couldn’t think of anything. And that was the hardest part.

I could feel it go down, you left the sweetest taste in my mouth. You're the silver lining the clouds. I wonder what it’s all about.

Everything I know is wrong. Everything I do, it's just comes undone. And everything is torn apart."

You Just See Your Pain

You just wanna take a faster ride, lower lows, higher highs. But you’ll never find it.

I’m proud of myself. I woke up perfectly content. I have achieved what many haven’t. What she hasn’t.

It was all set up to be a pretty damn good day. Things are finally falling into place…and yet.

You. Fuck you. Who are you? I don’t even think you know yourself.

If you weren’t such a fucking child maybe we wouldn’t have to watch your every move. But you’re a pathetic little girl.

And so I watched. I looked to see if my worries were reality.

And boy did I see.

Describe myself in three words? Dedicated. Loyal. And. Critical.

But never judgmental. Unless, of course, it is deserved. 

You have provoked my judgment. You deserve it. Oh, and did I mention you’re everything I hate in humanity?

I pity insecurities. However, I abhor those who use whoring themselves as a way to deal with those insecurities. That’s called pathetic. 

I worry about those who are sad. However, I detest those who flip their sadness around into automatic anger.

I fear arrogance. However, I loathe those who look in the mirror with utter satisfaction and look upon others with twice the amount of morality with disgust.

I feel sorry for those who have had everything handed to them, for they will never know independence. However, I am repulsed by those who expect everything and whine when it is refused to them until the benefactor gives in.

That is you. In a cramped and molded nutshell.

I’ve known your stupidity. Suffered firsthand by your selfishness and lack of allegiance. But this is too far. This is too much. Watch what you write, sis. Some of your words can never be erased. Sure, go ahead and tear the pages up. Burn the scraps and toss them in gallons of water. But my mind can never be scrubbed clean. Nor can hers. 

And at last we’ve arrived at the reason why I look upon you with disgust. You have endangered her purity and innocence. You show her only what the slums of the world have to offer: alcohol, drugs, sex, dependence, and worthlessness. 

You think you’re pregnant? Fantastic. I am not surprised in the slightest. I could laugh. I am laughing. A humorless chuckle, I’ll give you that. You deserve it. I’ll pray to an absent deity if I have to. But, my friend, how could you? You thought you were pregnant once. You told me you thought you miscarried. Well, that’s all fine and dandy. Rotten luck. But it was your fault for bringing an innocent into the world and letting it die. I thought that made you less selfish. I thought that experience had made its mark.

I was wrong, apparently. Now, you’re so ready to kill one again. But no! That’s not enough. You say that if you are in fact pregnant, you will kill yourself. Of course. How logical. Kill another’s innocence. You’ve already killed mine. And hers. And the nameless infants. But not enough. You also need to take your selfishness a step further. Instead of facing your punishment, instead of being strong and facing the whispers, you remove yourself. You not only kill yourself and that poor child (the brave soul that decided it would teach you your millionth lesson), but you also kill my mother. My father. My only sister. Me. I cannot let that happen. My self preservation is too strong.

It makes me so mad I could spit. Of course! Leave it to you to find the most selfish solution possible. And then again, it could just be you being dramatic. Ha. That would be a first!

You make me sad. And you make me so fucking angry. But your words bounce off of my skin. They no longer leave marks. They are feather light and make me laugh. Unfortunately, they hurt those I love. And I won’t stand for that.

Because of you I am who I am. I am so fucking proud of myself. I am the exact opposite of you. And that is a beautiful thing to say.

Oh, and happy birthday, sis. Hope it’s your best one yet!

Undefeated

One of those weeks where I feel as if I could triumph anything. Thank you, whoever you are. Oh, how I've missed the smiles. And laughter. Feeling alive.

So Close To Clarity, Makes Me Question Everything

I'm always bound to fall. I could be living out the happiest moment of my life, and the smile will fade away. Because I have fallen. In that moment of recognition, of realizing that I am not enough, I have fallen. And fallen hard.

I fear monotony.

You don't know pain until you throw objects away from you because you can't even bear looking at the simplest reminders of who you are. You don't know misery until you look at yourself in the mirrior and are unsatisfied, both externally and internally. You don't know agony until you throw yourself on the floor, feel the unforgiving ground bruise your head, feel the silent tears flow coolly down your cheeks and into your hair. No. You don't know anything. You hardly even know what I feel. No. You are unaware. You are ignorant. But ignorance is strength...or so they tell me.

We Are Coming For You

"One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet. One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat. One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything. But it's all right."

We are all lost and insecure. I'm trying to guard myself. I've built a wall that would put you to shame. But it's being attacked. I don't know who I am anymore or who you are. Where were you? My mother has fallen. We have all fallen. My father is crumbling. So tough, so firm. I look upon him and see the only good parts of them, the parts I have been lucky enough to inherit. But he has lost his strength because of that which destroys the other half of us now: the sick, vile excuses for human beings that an absent Creator has thrust upon us all. Is this a test? I thought we had passed it once already. Why, why, why? Why would you throw this upon those that need protection? The innocent and the young?

"Easy for you to say. Your heart has never been broken; your pride has never been stolen. Not yet. One of these days, I bet you heart'll be broken. I bet your pride'll be stolen."

I have guarded that child with all my might. I would take a bullet for her. I have taken a bullet for her. I would lie to her face to protect her from that harsh truth. I have lied to her. I would hold her as she cried, as we both cried. I would hide my tears from her youthful eyes, so blue and wide, and smile. I would ensure her that everything is just fine, when it most definitely is not. I have done this. And where were you?

"One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat. But it's all right. Don't say it's all right!"

I've been broken but I have rebuilt myself, stronger than ever. He is breaking through the weakest points in my wall. As a friend. The best friend I have ever had. He has spoken the words that my mind will not let myself say aloud. And where were you? I have always loved you, and I always will. But you are distant. I am distant. If I ever see that man again, I will eviscerate him, more or less metaphorically. There is good and there is evil. I have had the misfortune of encountering both. But there is more. There is good, there is decency, there is bad, there is evil. Right beneath the latter is worthlessness. Vile. Despicable. Unspeakable. And that is where he lies. When my thoughts drift towards him, I become associated with the evil stratum. One should never underestimate the creative mind of a teenage girl who has held a sobbing child in her arms. A child that has been defiled beyond words. One should never underestimate the violent abilities of someone who has had to become a woman in two days for those just a year younger than her. One should never underestimate the bitterness that proceeds the act of tearing up a picture of filth to prevent her from seeing it, of throwing a wedding dress down a garbage chute, of packing up a little girl's life in an insubstantial suitcase. No. One should never.

"Come away little lamb, come away to the slaughter..."