Crying Over Ink That Just Wont Spill

I am here

to express myself..

but I make it

dramatic

None of them get paid because they're stuck here with their victim; they have to wait for the gamble result that lefts them get away with it

Even me calling it out means I lose; I'm the one written off as crazy, the hurt one either way, comforting self with entitlement and juiced down wine

Cause I do try.

Ask your Jesus Fucking Christ about it.

Ghosts,

Or people bullying their invasion into your house, your home.

But yeah, let's just hope its junk mail

And not signs that they're stealing, stole

Your mom's deed right from under her African American widowed nose;

Cursing every trickster god who'd laugh,

Men are just as fragile as the ones they abuse.

i admit that i struggle with having the stamina to resist

But I still be resisting, talking off your head with the inspirations I see

Because my misery loves a distraction

And you adore me for how I end up distracting us both from shared miseries,

Its ok cause you still survived.

Theres no need to hide your scars,

that all one can think to do

is laugh and

Its a back and forth of I like my solitude but solitude makes it harder to rely on and trust others, have others, and it being my fault.

And then I begin to feel anxious about the realization that I'm not enough for myself because I haven't been open to others.

What would I do if something goes wrong and I have to lean on someone else, need to be helped, but fearful I'll be rejected from not being known and not being of society before that.

What if I'm all alone because I did it to myself, to my own detriment, when I thought I was just being myself and staying out of the way?

If i'm a traumatized introvert, the result is lack of community without a desire to pull up a chair, rejecting myself by nature because of a fear that I won't be understood, therefore I wouldn't be helped, or couldn't be helped if they wanted to, but always needing something I could only ever get from someone outside of me.

How do I shake that? How much of myself do I change before I am no longer naturally myself, causing myself more harm than good?

Because I've always known i dont know everything; but theres still something a personality adds i guess