Untitled

How do i tell my dad that I felt betrayed when he didn't get me the bike he promised me if I got good grades?

How do I tell my partner that I felt sad after the person who claims to love me most didn't like the photo I posted of myself on my story?

How do I tell the bus conductor that he triggered a past memory when he yelled at me to repeat my stop?

I saw how happy you were as you held them and called them"baby" in my presence

I remember crying when I claimed to forgive as you unintentionally apologised for what never seemed wrong to you. I knew we'd be back to that very spot and I resented every reason I had for having given you the power. Perhaps I shouldn't have smothered you in my love galore

Partner 1: Tell me something you've always hidden from me

Partner 2: I show you the light you can handle and hidé the darkness you'd resent. I'm not saying my warmth and joy is just a show but it's not all of me. I'm afraid and almost certain that if you saw all of me, then you'd want none at all.

Partner 1: Why are you so sure I'd not love your other side?

No one asked you to stay, but you did

No one asked you to love, yet you did. Everything dials down to the choices we make

what we chose to sacrifice and what we chose to cherish. We can't make that choice for others but we can surely make it for ourselves

To choose what serves us and what sits right by us.

Someone will love everything you hate about you

Lonely, it is swept by like a tumbleweed as it moves at your every whim

Undone are our plans

Ripe and torn is my hope

Wrinkled is your mercy for my toil, my sweat, my dignity

Why do I mourn a union I'm currently part off?

Where is the joy that is owed to me?

Where is my overly deserved award for my unsolicited yet abundant presence and warmth?

Is it so wrong to demand in equal measure what one feels is owed to their soul?

Forgive a poet for scribbling his emotions in tears and ink for its all he knows

Forgive an empath for being selfish this once, for caring for the one person they neglect; themselves.

Noise has proven it's ineffectiveness so perhaps silence will cut through faux peace.

Love junkies

Hopeless fallen lovers, means to an end. It is us and we are it.

Yearners

Voyagers of love

Believers of a newer world filled with reassures and genuines

Fighters of a love they spend more time fighting for than experiencing

Delusionals

Empaths

To feel like you attract bad juju or karmic events of actions never done by you but forever to you, enslaving myself in the captivity of acceptance that this is my life and drowning in the wreckage of less than I deserve but more than I bargained for. My overreliance on the expectations of others rendered me blind on fulfilling those of my own. My endless wait on society's wake on basic human decency stripped down by the casual normalcy of ignorance. Everybody wants to be "cool" or "nonchalant" which has corrupted behavioural etiquette to be labeled as the "simp culture".

No one checks up on anyone. No one wants to send continuous messages of well wishing. No one wants to lay down their walls and unleash their vulnerability just to either strengthen their ego or protect whatever was left from previous experiences; many of which are valid as a result of the toxicity we have smeared on what were initially safe spaces.

Zero responsibility and even less accountability of our shortcomings as individuals. A justification and complete deflection for everything we do wrong : " I cheated on you because you were emotionally unavailable ", " I lied to you because I knew how you'd react", "I did this for your own good".

They say it's impossible to see in the dark but I feel like my vision gets clearer the more I keep drowning myself into the abyss of your pertubia. The dissatisfaction that screams from the innermost curves of my soul as I sit quietly in righteous pain, just as you love it. Manipulated by my own wants that I meant way more than they did. That I was THE ONE. I guess that will forever remain what it is, a hopeless cliché created by delusional romantic to hold together the pieces of their overly shuttered yet tender core.

The devotion you show, the loyalty you struggle to uphold, the shame and guilt you plaster after straying from loyalty, the occasional presence of merry. All these were luxuries of my delusion. Luxuries I sought comfort and stability from. Luxuries i soaked my illusion in. Luxuries that weren't even mine to begin with.... Based on a different story that you write with them. A story where I barely or don't exist in,... ...

I tried to pick a pen up to journal today and realised I couldn't. I also realized that you are all I've written about for the past three years of my mostly bitter bittersweet existence. Every moussel of joy, every ounce of paranoia, every wave of euphoria, every whirl of melancholy, every scratch on my scalp, back or neck, I have kept receipts of all. Every painful detail of every event that made my gut wrench, that made my stomach churn, carefully stored in a dusty corner in the back of my mind. A corner filled to the brim by vexatious thoughts and realizations that awaken a pulchritudinous insanity when stroke them with your recklessness.

The small little things you do, leave claiming you're coming back yet you don't, showing up the next morning with their scent all over you, expecting a warm welcome despite your lies, deceit, your greed, your gluttony. When will it ever be enough? Does it even get to be enough? All you do is justify all these in " We are all living for the first time. "

That's not it. You just don't wish to take accountability for the actions you don't regret doing. Just because you didn't feel like you hurt a person doesn't mean they didn't get hurt.

I wrote this letter for a specific part of you. The part that sets off pandemonium from the inside of the ivory casing I wear to reduce the impact of the reaction I wish to give from all you do. Whether you read this and ignore it or ignore it all together is up to you. I found an outlet to my insanity, hope you do the same.

Yours truly,

You couldn't stop staring at your phone

My brain began to prepare my heart for the forthcoming bomb

You were about to leave , again.

It was so clear,

How you didn't take off your bag pack as soon as we arrived, how you didn't lock the door behind you right after, how you didn't throw your keys and empty your pockets on my table, how you didn't take off your socks and throw them close to my landry bin, how you didn't take of your rings, loosen your pants and throw yourself on my bed,,

How gut wrenching it felt to know you'd do all these in their house

How much it ached to see you so eager to see them

How easy it was for you to ask me not to be mad before you you left

How I died inside when I refused to hug you

You had no idea what went on inside my head

Or perhaps you didn't want to know,,,

Yet,, I still wanted to be with you,

This one probably stuck with me more

So much melancholy in words, yet so little was felt

I flung no glass across the room, nor a plate

Not even my normal flinging mug

I didn't cuss you out, I didn't yell. I chilled it out

I'm scared of this feeling..... Or so I think

A point where I'm immune to your sidelining, immune to your betrayal, immune to your lies and deceit, immune to your neglect.

It's just another Saturday night of being alone

Just like the rest except this one is colder and the monotony of lonesomeness on a Saturday night worries me more than your absence

Wondering why my tired heart doesn't ache anymore,

Wondering why I can't stop writing yet feel so..........

I wanna be the reason you decide to have a lazy day in to cuddle and snuggle

I'm fed up of being the puppy you keep shooing from clinging to your feet

I'm tired of buzzing in your orbit only to get swatted and wafted away

I'm tired of being in a conversation with someone who gives one-worded replies to paragraphs of flirtatious wordplay and well curated confidence-mastered texts

Mamma said I was never good with change,, now I painfully live through the reality of her prophecies

How do I even look at myself in a mirror?

How do I unmask this sheath of pretence and falsity?

How do I show my truth? The nudity of what I feel. The bareness of my inner existence. The silence I never wished to live in.

Perhaps one day. I will break through the cocoon of pain in silence and resilience of tolerance of that which I don't deserve.

It didn't happen for us. The joy we foresaw, the ambitions we so thoughtfully planned for, the people we fought to keep so close,,, all of it gone. We lost it all and in a way lost ourself. We've neglected who we are in a struggle to make others happy and better as a people. I forgot about me. I forgot I deserved my attention. I forgot I deserved my love. I forgot I deserved me. I forgot to remember that I had voice to raise when they stomped my toe, or when dipped their fingers in my tea. It's been a hassle to constantly walk on eggshells to feed the ego of people who made my efforts seem futile. People who mistook silence and composure for weakness and surrender. I stood by and watched the manipulation, the ridicule, the control they thought they possessed. If only thoughts could talk. For a moment I actually fell for the snare. But at what cost? Curving arcs on my anterior arm? Or perhaps banging my head onto a wall to perhaps feel a shred of anything else but pain? The anxiety, moreover, did not make it any easier. We rolled and shook on the carpet those nights at our lowest, as we write this,,our palms shaky and feet stompy, we ignore it, perhaps it too shall pass.

Do we still proceed to the failure we are yet to encounter? Do I win anything in the end?? Not be a cliché but does my heart get contentment and satisfaction as it has always craved?? Do the horid thoughts of what I saw today ever fade?