sodden

the worst part is that i would have

if asked

if needed

if wanted

i would have

just need me

funny enough my shot got snatched moments before i took those photos of myself

i like to think… i’m not all that.

or is it that i am all that.

so hard to tell these days, yknow with the economy.

today i fought a purge, yesterday i fought a purge, and the day before that i went to war in the bathroom mirror. against who? well the one with brown eyes and sinister grin.

that picture on the wall you’re scared of looks just like you.

self hate a cure for obliteration. self hate a cure for desolation. self hate the righteous enslaving trait. desert them, repent and twist, do the irie shuffle.

fuck. that’s good. irie shuffle…

he said a lot of things but he said my voice sounded like home. in my head i knew his voice sounded like an attic. so fucking creaky and secure yet one quick wisp away from crumbling. i love it and i resent its upcoming absence. i hate that i… feel whatever the fuck this fuck ass fucking feeling is. fuckin fuck.

i think my mind is warped. lust vs genuine something. wish it was just lust. that would be soooo much easier.

maybe in a couple months i’ll just be thankful to feel. just thankful to have been human and had had a human experience. right now i want to turn it off. so ridiculous but too much of a good thing can’t last like that. and it’s not going to, last that is. no amount of manifestation could urge it. no amount of wishful thinking could press it. there’s nothing there, it’s just a black blank future.

last night i said we were on the same timeline just walking past each other.

there’s nothing truer, lol.

now i’m at urgent care like a bafoon and ive roped sylas into another escapade. euckkk. vaginas suck

ok got distracted.

i promised my own father i would never do this

i never do this

i have never done this. i shouldn’t and yet i can’t stop. it’s a fucking crush. middle school shit.

taja shit.

it’s been pounded into my head at least five times a year for the past 22 years that: you can’t trust anyone

you can’t trust anyone, you can’t lend yourself to anyone, never cry, never show weakness and god please god never love. for if you do chil you will hurt.

and i fucking promised. soap in my mouth i sobbed and i promised.

coals down my throat i promised

i should be numb to it by now. feelings. care.

it’s this damn therapy. it’s this damned unabashed love i can’t resist. i’m so tempted to just give. everything.

i am envious of those who don’t trek life on tippy toes. those who aren’t carefully controlled and can just stroll. i want that.

but i can’t have that. not now. not then and when?

i gave myself to taja

i bore myself to bryce

and i stonewall myself any chance i get. box myself up, bows and all a present presented sweetly. just for… what exactly?

for who? for me? for them? for fucking what?

i hold my breath, i count my steps, i bend myself, twist myself and scramble my brains for fucking what?

i’m so mad i can’t see straight. i’m so frustrated cause i can’t turn it off. my brain. my fucking heart.

dad called yesterday, he reminded me that weakness is not to be tolerated. and i brushed him off. i said you’re silly and you don’t know anything, weakness is beautiful. i wasn’t talking about myself. i wasn’t standing up for myself.

sometimes i pretend. not like im fine, im not good at that. i pretend that i care for myself. sometimes i promote myself, i think faking it will be how i attain self love. but i don’t. i don’t love irie. perhaps i don’t hate myself the way i did at twelve but i don’t care for myself. i lie. all the time i lie but it tastes sour each time.

wibble

wobble

double trouble

i met a boy he gave me trouble

stole my air he chose my

breaths - raw

smell - strong

wibble

wobble

legs on fire

left me mad and rubbed his stubble

shit grin tricks he gave me trouble

4 am he took the flight

redeye off to santa fe

theyd lost their

poets - mad on money

dreams - drained on cumming

wibble wobble double trouble

i came so hard i swore i tumbled

hell or heaven

where’d you land

gods favorite in promise land

well what if jesus ate my fucking snatch

maybe then i’d get the

golden goose - thrice bread and loose

wibble wobble i took a tumble

dark i love yous like to sparkle

unfortunately

i’ll never forget

he was 39 to my 22 and my first of firsts of many.

he was a bad idea. too much of a good thing. too much of a terrible thing. a curse so good.

he said movies, kisses and cuddles.

i got sushi, kisses and yeah ok i got cuddles but i ripped open pandora’s box with that one. such an innocent feels profile. mf had movies on the damn page. evil shit.

i do realize i was robbed to young. another innocence fucked into oblivion.

tonight i am afraid.

worried my eyes have changed to pulse my thoughts.

worried my disposition is raw and desperate.

worse i fear it was only once. worse i fear i passed a life time by. worse i wonder if i am special. worse i know i am not.

love?love?gas?

“where’s the love?”

jeanette we are all fakers

everyone’s looking for it but no one has it to give. i imagine love flew the coup when jesus landed on that cross.

i imagine his ending sent love fleeting

i imagine my ending as sweet and subtle

i imagine it quick, loveless

forever forever forever

pinky promises may never be the same

no baby, no ring and no sense of forever

it was dope love, fear and sex

that’s it

that’s just it

it was a fever dream, every kiss, every pinky wrapped in yours

even so

do i believe in love still?

i am still. times stopped and i keep feeling like i’ve fucked up. it’s been a week but it’s never ending. a part of me just wants to get fucked. into oblivion frankly. i want to drink myself blue, pink until gold. over and over.

what would jesus do?

die on the cross i suppose

right now i feel like id never met them. i feel like i wasted my time. i feel like they wasted my time. i suppose i got lucky with all the growth i did, ever changing. but they were so stagnant i blamed myself. they were so depressed i thought it was me. it wasn’t. they were never honest with themselves. whatever they were going through it was deeeeeep. so deep i couldn’t pry at it or pick at it enough. i never got through. i regret not calling bullshit the first time and walking away. i regret my feelings as beautiful as they were. but it all feels pretense now. they lied. over and over. i really wonder if they’re so good at it that they’ll never see it.

i pity them. and that’s worse than anything. my heart hurts for them and their unhappiness but truly it weeps for me and my neglected heart.

i’ll never understand why it didn’t click for me when they’d show me old photos of themselves or old videos. the stark difference. they were vivacious. they were genuinely stupidly and obliviously happy. why didn’t i realize that it was weird asf that they weren’t like that with me. that their “comfort” was not good with me. i mean i did see them around their friends and i was never jealous until it clicked that they never laughed with me like that. wow

their mask was on. and they took it off with me. but when they took it off with me they were so exhausted from that mask. they didn’t fake it either me. i didn’t like them. maybe they aren’t even depressed maybe that just is them. someone who binges fast food, doesn’t clean and has a low sex drive. but why did they ever take it with me?

trapped me with false self. fuck.