My Mind

I honestly don’t know where to start.

Here are the five senses.

Sight.

Hearing.

Smell.

Taste.

Touch.

Here is my sight.

I see the world passing me by everyday.

I see nothing but the blurs of silhouettes as I stand cemented to the ground.

Nothing I do can free me of this burden.

I’m stuck in this sensation no matter what I do.

Next is my hearing.

I hear everything all at once.

My quiet nature is a blessing and curse.

I get told things that upset me.

I hear things that will upset me.

I rarely get the chance to hear good things or things that make my heart jump out of its chest.

But when I do I store those away in my vault for safe keeping.

Next up is my sense of smell.

This could either go well or completely to shit.

Smells vary, ranging from “ooo that smells heavenly” to “what the hell is that smell” to “it smells like a skunks arsehole”.

Yes I said arsehole.

British and gaelic words consume me.

Upcoming is my taste.

For a picky eater my tastebuds are my #1 favorite sense.

I love sweet things.

Milk chocolate. Cookies. Chocolate cake. Icecream.

Salty things are great too. I just favor sweet more.

If I taste something horrible it will get spitten out.

Lastly and finally is my sense of touch.

Plush. Sherpa. Satin. Cotten.

These are the fabrics I like to touch.

I love smooth surfaces.

Rounded smooth skin.

Soft lips.

Muscular physique.

I’m getting ahead of myself again.

I should just stop.

What I’m trying to say is I feel more than the average woman because of my senses.

The feeling that your never going to be enough for anyone.

That feeling you get when your not succeeding.

And the feeling you get when you just can’t or won’t get out of bed because that warm feeling is the closest you’ll get to feeling something that warm on your skin.

And I may be rambling now but nobody truely knows how I feel.

Because I hide it so well.

So well to the point they think I’m fine.

When in reality I’m drowning in my own thoughts, feelings, anything you could think of I’m drowning in it.

I say all this to say my senses are what makes me the woman I am today.

That and well my mind.

My senses can be overwhelmed.

But thats another poem for another day.

For now I just sit alone in a sense that I can deal with my senses.

I love valentine’s day.

The pink and red hues.

The creativity it brings out of people.

The love just flowing throughout the air.

Like an airborne disease.

I’d hope to have a valentine this year.

But fate had other plans.

I gave more than just my heart.

I gave my soul too.

I stopped taking my interests seriously.

I lost myself in more ways then one, just to feel that spark.

So this year I’m giving love back to myself for once.

Loving myself the way I crave to be loved by someone one day.

Giving back to myself the way I gave to him.

I didn’t only lose my spark.

I lost my whimsy.

It takes time to heal.

Rome wasn’t build in a day they say.

And I’ll do the work.

Because I am worth the love and affection.

I’m worth more then what I give myself credit for.

This year and every year after this I find my spark.

This year I take back my whimsy.

This year I heal my heart.

I hope and wish for the day that I do find someone that loves me for me.

For now I will be my love that never leaves.

I have walked this earth alone.

Walked for miles and miles.

Walking so long the end never seems near.

A clearing comes into view.

An oasis.

The oasis filled with water and shade from the tree’s which stretch so high.

The allure of comfort.

A normal person would stop and rest.

Looking around for any harmful predators.

I look around and sit underneath a tree.

A tree rooted next to a river.

I lay there in comfort.

Not looking at the signs of a storm.

The change in the wind.

The tempeture droping.

The water rising from the river which was once calm.

I was happy in the oasis.

A happiness I’ve never felt before.

A happiness that I crave once again.

I’ll probably look for the signs next time.

If there is a next time.

If I allow myself the courtesy of a next time.

The oasis will always be the first thing I’ve truely loved.

Always in my memory.

In my mind.

I try not to share my feelings with men I’m pursuing.

I’m afriad if they know how I truely feel, they will think less of me.

I keep everything bottled up.

Sealed tight.

Like a lid on a jar.

My heart?

My heart always leads my interactions.

My mother always told me not to wear my heart on my sleeve.

I feel many things for him.

I like him.

I like him alot.

I miss him.

I support his decisions.

If I could talk to him everyday I would.

I haven’t felt like this before.

My heart fills with so much joy I can’t stand it.

If I told him any of this I’d cry endlessly.

What if he doesn’t feel the same?

What if he doesn’t share the feelings that I have in my heart toward him for me?

He always said I could tell him anything.

And that he wouldn’t hold it against me.

Or judge me.

But I can’t help but wonder if there is someone else.

Someone he like better.

Someone he calls “my love”.

I can’t help but feel this way.

My feelings for him run deep.

Deeper than any crush I’ve had.

I want to say how I truely feel.

That I love him.

And that I want us to be together.

But for now I must keep the lid on the jar.

I’d do anything for him.

I lost my mind for him.

It’s official.

I’m completely losing all sense of myself.

My mind thinks over and over again.

Over and over again I overthink.

Why is it that when I’ve fallen hard for someone I get like this.

My first thoughts:

“Does he like me? “

“Is there someone else?”

“Is he ignoring me?”

“Why hasn’t he texted me back?”

My second thoughts:

He’s just working.

He’ll get back to me.

He does have responsiblilities that are more inportant than you.

I want to SCREAM and SHOUT.

I want to KICK and PUNCH.

I want to RIP my HAIR OUT.

This is making me lose myself.

I get an ounce of attention from a guy and I go 0 to 1000.

I blame myself for everything.

Maybe if I did date earlier in life I wouldn’t give him no mind.

But since I didn’t I feel like I’m going crazy inside and out.

All I hear is “Are you okay?”

And the truth is no, I’m not okay.

I haven’t been okay since I was 15.

When I got out of bed today I didn’t expect anything.

I got up and dreaded the moment I would see him.

But once I did all my feelings came rushing to the surface.

The sadness,

The anger,

The happiness.

I saw him.

Someone that has my heart skip a beat constantly.

I came for a service and left with something much more valuable.

A kiss.

But not just any kiss.

A kiss that left a mark on my skin.

A kiss that made me crave for more kisses.

A kiss that I want on my lips.

His lips.

My lips.

Intertwined into one rhythmic moment.

A moment I wish for.

A moment that I crave.

The moment we had was fleeting.

I hope we have more than just that one kiss, now a memory.

A memory that has left a mark on my skin.

A mark more like a burn.

They say you can die of a broken heart.

Normally it’s the cause of losing someone dear to you.

You heart weakens.

And you die.

In my case, it would be the cause of never being loved.

Romantic love that is.

I try so hard.

And everytime I end up shattered like broken glass in the street.

Broken.

Disgarded.

Thrown away.

Countless nights are spent crying into my tear soaked pillow.

Weak.

Soft.

Defective.

Heart full of golden rays and pink hues.

Beaming through my shell in hopes of raining down on someone.

Eventually it diminishes into nothing.

Numb.

Cold.

Paralyzed.

This feeling I have never goes away.

It fades but not quite.

In due time, I will feel a bit less broken.

I have now said that for years.

I don’t know why it always happenes this way.

It’s a cycle.

I text you, you act nonchalant.

You text me, I act nonchalant.

There are times were we both text each other.

And we talk to each other like were together.

Or plan to be atleast.

I can be your boo.

And you can be mine.

But it only happenes once in a while.

I wish I was strong enough to leave you alone.

Maybe that way I can stop expecting more from you.

When I know your not going to give me what I crave most.

A love that will never leave.

A love so kind and so pure.

The kind of love that is untouchable.

I can’t just keep doing this.

It’s taking a toll on my mental health.

I like you.

I’ve always liked you.

But I have to be strong and let you do what you do best.

Being alone.

And for yourself.

I had a crush on this guy.

I’ve had a crush on him for years.

When he finally started talking to me I felt it all.

The rush.

The feelings.

And the discouragement.

I thought he was interested in me finally.

We would talk and have conversations I hadn’t had with a guy before.

It wasn’t about getting into my pants.

Not at all.

It was about getting to know one another.

You don’t find that nowadays.

Atleast I don’t find that.

It started out great.

I was getting his attention.

And I still do sometimes.

But he got distant.

I unfollowed him.

And I deleted his number.

I was feeling things for him, he didn’t reciprocate.

I know there are lots of fish in the sea.

But I can’t take feeling unwanted anymore.

Feeling like no guy would find me worthy enough to talk to.

But worthy enough to fuck.

If I have to spend all my life alone on this planet, maybe thats what was meant for me.

So farewell to this ending.

I’ve always had a hyper imagination.

Imagining things that come true.

And imagining things that never see light of day.

It just happens naturally.

It could be a new job, wondering what I’ll be doing.

It could be buying something new and wanting to have it in my grasp immediately.

It could be a boy that I’ve had a crush on for a while now.

Oh how I can picture that so vivdly.

It’s like it had already happened right before my eyes.

Daydreaming of potential dates and midnight rendezvous.

Daydreaming about what could be.

Instead I should be thinking realistically.

When it comes to him everything just flies out the window.

I painted a perfect version of him.

A version of him that will never be.

A version of him that doesn’t exist.

That is how much I like him.

I’ve liked him for a while now.

And he’ll never talk to me more then casually.

Why you may ask?

Because if he wanted to he would.

He’ll always be a daydream.

Someone to imagine.

I’m too nice.

I’m talking about the kind of nice that people take advantage of.

I give people chance after chance.

Excuse after excuse.

Time after time again.

In my mind I paint them as a good person.

“They’d never do me wrong.”

“I know they’re good for it.”

I say to myself everytime.

The thing is I could know a person less than a month and act as if we had been friends for years.

As a result I have been scammed, bullied, and torn to shreds mentally.

I give and I give and give.

Even if that means I go without.

If people wanted to be my friend or boyfriend they would make the initiative.

They would show me themselves by how they move and how they treat me.

If I have to start every conversation, plan our hangouts and get stood up then our whole relationship is one sided.

I don’t expect a reasoning behind it.

But what I won’t tolerate is a one sided relationship.

Whether it be romantic or platonic nobody deserves that.

I’m too nice and I care too much.

I wonder what would happen if I stop letting these people play in my face.

As long as I can remember I’ve always had a fascination with love and being loved.

I’ve always watched rom coms and love dramas.

I even watched Say yes to the dress Atlanta, hoping one day it would happen to me.

I love the idea of love and being loved.

The thing is I’ve never even been liked before.

Not for the right reasons anyway.

I want to be liked for my personality.

Not how big my tits are and how full they look in certain tops.

Not for how my ass shakes when I twerk in the club.

And definitely not for being a virgin for a potential deflowering.

I want to be liked for my kindness.

For my funny remarks.

And for my creative mind.

I don’t want to waste any of my potential on anyone.

I don’t want to give any of my firsts to someone thats not serious.

Because I’ll only ever have it once in life and I don’t want to regret any of them.

They say “Your young Alyssa”, “Date around Alyssa”.

“It’ll happen when you least expect it Alyssa.”

I want to be someones one and only.

And yes I haven’t dated around like most girls my age.

I don’t want to deal with the heartache and heartbreak.

I don’t want to deal with the run around.

If You don’t want to be with me just say so and save me the crying.

I want to be with someone the rest of my life.

And if I have to wait all my life for that person so be it.

I just hope and pray I’m loved for the right reasons.

I don’t try to feel the way I feel.

The way I feel when I really like a boy and he doesn’t like me back.

I feel like a shell.

Hard on the outside.

But hollow on the inside.

My face as plain as ever.

No smile for miles.

My heart broken into incomprehensible pieces.

I haven’t felt like this in years.

It’s like a hole got punched through my chest.

There’s nothing in it’s place anymore.

If I have no heart, how is it that I am able to feel the way I do?

To feel is the breath.

I try and I try not to feel.

All of this is too intense for anyone to feel for it to only be a crush.

But thats what it was, a crush.

It could never be anything more.

I can’t stop thinking of him.

Silly me for wanting something with this boy.

Have you ever just felt out of it?

Like your brain is in some sort of fog.

And your heart just has no more love to give.

Your just numb.

I don’t want to try anymore.

Try to date anymore that is.

Because trying always ends in a downward spiral.

Into a pit of nothingness.

In this dark place with nowhere to go.

Which way is up? Which way is down?

There is no way to determine that.

Just black and hopelessness.

Something I should get used to by now.

I know this place all to well.

I practically live here full time.

I always wonder why I end up here.

But it’s my own fault.

For wanting.

For hoping.

For enying.

I have found something active to do with my body.

Something that isn’t for the pleasure of others.

But for my own pleasure.

Something just for me to indulge in independently.

I walk into the studio with so much confidence.

That’s something I didn’t have months ago.

Confidence.

I’ve gained and lost so much.

I’ve gained confidence.

I’ve lost weight.

That’s a win win for once.

I’m finally getting back to myself.

Getting back to the woman I was meant to be.

The woman I admired to be.

A woman that doesn’t take shit from anybody.

A woman that takes what she wants.

A woman that can make it happen for herself.

That’s who I feel like when I’m on that pole.

A woman who is sexy, confident in herself, and can do for herself.

That is who I am.

When I dance it’s like nobody else is in the room.

Just the pole and I.

Looking in that mirror and finally seeing what other people see in myself is more than I could ask for.

Sugar is what they call me when I dance.

Cause I’m just as sweet as candy, only sweeter.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why do I naturally repeal men?

Why do I always have to feel like shit after I confess my likeness?

It’s always me.

It always happened to me.

I never tell them I like them.

I never look at them for too long.

I never share my feelings.

Why?

They never feel the same way as I do.

I feel embarrassed and so heartbroken.

I end up crying in my bedroom surrounded by my stuffies.

I end up questioning everything.

My appearence.

My voice.

My hair.

Everything.

I tend to obsess over things.

And people.

So when I have a crush on a person I make it bigger then it actually is.

I Imagine things.

I Imagine everything.

What we would do together.

How he would kiss me, and how I would kiss back.

Even the him meeting my parents.

It’s like we had a whole relationship in my head that never even happened.

So it hurts more.

It’s like someone ripped a hole in my heart.

That happenes everytime.

And everytime I cry.

I cry.

I belittle.

I starve.

Then comes a thought.

I recurring thought.

That I will never have someone to call my own.

Someone that feels the same as I do.

Somedays I wonder if I’ll die alone.

God what is wrong with me?

When normal people have a crush they get warm on the inside.

But me?

When I have a crush all I can think about is how it’ll never come to light.