The median between the silver lining and dirt


You occasionally set your eyes on this girl when you go out. She’s perfectly put together, she’s the one with the messy, but perfect wavy, dirty blonde hair, her lipstick is a dark color that catches your eye as she mutters words to people from a distance, even the lace dress she is wearing makes you wonder what the rest of her peach- toned flesh looks or even feels like. She’s not the loudest girl at whatever you see her at, she actually keeps to herself and whichever friend she chose to go out with that night. She’s quiet. This keeps you wondering more and more about her every time you might happen to run into her.
Every time you see her she looks put together, and happy. When she goes home though that’s another story. What you don’t know is that she cries herself to sleep every night. She has panic attacks. She has anxiety attacks. She drives around looking for unanswerable questions, smoking a cigarette, trying to exhale all of her problems. This doesn’t help. She is awake at night trying to fight off nightmares of the past. As the last tear rolls down her face, a quick image of you burns in her head. That’s always the tear that lasts the longest and burns the most.

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I am mesmerized by the fact that as humans we get ready every morning, but why? Why do we put so much effort to look our best everytime we walk out the door? Why would I want to impress anyone when everyone is just the same shitty person.

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damp pillow, damp mind.


It always hurts the most at night, when I am the most vulnerable and alone. 

It’s the same old story time and time again. I’m trying to run away but my feet are stuck in the ground like a terrible nightmare. It’s sad how comfortable and dependent I can become on another human being, but now I must face the consequences. This is the last time I will let someone take apart of me that I know will put me into another deep, dark place like this again, unless of course I allow apart of me to be taken. A year ago if you asked me how I was doing I probably would have just shrugged my shoulders and shuffled the question into the back of my mind. I still feel the same a year later. Sometimes though there is a point where I can no longer keep putting it into the back and ignore what is hurting me. I need to embrace the fact that I am heartbroken, depressed, and lost. I am scared that this feeling will never leave my conscience. After all the times I have been heartbroken and left behind, forgotten in the rearview mirror of just another boy’s brain, that feeling sticks with me. I’ve put up a wall that is hard to break down and for me to open a door for someone else to explore is difficult for me to allow, especially when I am constantly being fucked over. My mind is about to toss the key into a vast, forgotten place. I am truly sorry for the next guy that tries to build up a relationship for me, but it’s not my fault. I can’t continue to keep lending out my key to someone who is going to just use it at their disposal. I need something, anything other than this. I can’t stand being alone another night fighting my thoughts and nightmares alone. I keep telling myself I will never be as happy as I was a month ago, no one will ever fill that void like he did. Terrified I will be stuck like this for a long time, I keep replaying our conversations like a dark shadow in an alley.

 

Not only did I lose a boyfriend, I lost a friend.

I haven’t the patience to go out and find another because I know it will just make me back into the same dark dimension I’m in now. I want him to leave me alone, but I also want to know if he is cursing himself for making a bad decision and to take me back. The little spark that creates makes me hopeful for a second, but it is a defective firework, only to fly right back into my face and explode. 

I miss being happy.

 

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tell me what it’s like to be loved
to be held, embraced in your company.

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Withheld


Once upon a time I was in love. You were a walking example of personality over looks. I loved everything about what you stood for. You had so much self confidence and charisma. Nothing was ever wrong, but at the same time I could tell if you were ever in distress. You were the kind of guy that even when there was silence in the conversation it felt perfect just to be in your presence. We did everything together and I miss that. I miss you and you’re positivity. The way we would just sing to each other and had ideas for the future. If I could go back, I would. I would give up everything to be where we were 6 months ago. Now and then your name goes through my head, or out my lips and it hurts. Not a bad kind though, just a touch of helplessness. There’s a bitterness in the situation that reminds me we don’t even talk anymore. Those late night talks that kept me up knowing that when you pressed ‘end call’ you went to bed thinking about me and vice versa. But then you ran off on me and it will never be the same. I hope every now and again my name crosses your thoughts. I know it happens to me.

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Jump my bones summer 2012


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exact.


I’m curled in a ball, sobbing.
Thinking where did I go wrong, Hell I never went wrong and that’s the problem.
I’m trapped in a dark hole that I can’t seem to get out of.
It’s always the same story, “You brought me in because you were someone that I had never experianced before, you were crazy and out there. Something different from the rest.”
But it never shapes into something and that’s what upsets me.
Just when I finally feel like I tugged on the right rope, It slips right out of my hands and I’m back pining in my own shadow.
I don’t know anymore.
Indifferent to everything because I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.
I just keep crawling backwards into my comfort zone and I’m not sure how to ignite myself.
I fucking hate cliches, but tonight someone had to remind me that if “you’re not a person’s first priority it’s not worth the time. You need to find someone that wants to be there for you always. And don’t call it quits too early.”
Until then I will grit my teeth and keep a straight face for the time being.

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