Sunday

I have a killer hangover
Brought on by my ridiculous need
To be liked or wanted or something else
That happens when you have (almost) no self-esteem

I cried a lot last night
I got overly emotional (which I never do)
Because I couldn’t understand why
After all my idioticness you still wanted me around

I never get like that
(Not often anyway)
I hide it well with my false bravado and
Painted on smile that never seems to fade

You wrote to me this morning
And told me that I was strong
And funny and other good things
Strange thing is I’m starting to believe these things too

Maybe I’m not such a bad person after all
(Also, remind me never to say yes to the Frenchman)

Tonight Would Not Be The End

i.

Do something for yourself, they told her.
Do something out of the ordinary, they said.

And so she threw caution to the wind, logic took a step out of the window, her heart took over. This was her chance; to finally do something that she wanted, something extraordinary. A chance for something new, happiness.

Only it turned out she shouldn’t have. She should never have given her heart in say in matters. Because now she’s back where she started; out in the cold, heart broken and sadness engulfing.The extraordinary fast becoming ordinary.

ii.

Don’t get attached, she always said.
Don’t let anyone in too far, she promised.

Only, this time, she forgot to close to the door to the gilded cage she liked to keep herself in. She let him in too far, let him see all of her. She let him touch her scars and feel her flaws and know her inside and out. She forgot to guard herself, like she always had done. Those were her first mistakes.

She believed him when he said he could love her with her flaws and secret ugliness. She should never have believed those words. Words are just words, after all. Moments of love are just fleeting.

Now she sits, hopelessly searching for the key to her gilded cage. Promising never to come back out. Emotions and attachment are too much for her to deal with. Heartbreak is something she’s never had before, and never wants again. She’s back to being the one keeping others at arm’s length.

iii.

You’re worthless, they whispered.
You’re undeserving, they screamed.

And so she heard them, and listened. She tried to drown them out; tried to distract herself.
She put on her prettiest dress, and fixed her tear stained face. She began walking along the long path of self destruction. Hate filled and sorrowful.

Soon she found herself in her favourite place. Stars filled the sky as the river rushed past. She climbed up on the railing and thought of ending it all. No more misery.

Then she thought of all those who loved her; R, her flame-haired Jiminy Cricket. S, the one who is always there. K, who never fails to make her smile. B, the one who accepted her when all others turned her away. She shook her head, and with it the fuzziness. Tonight would not be the end of her.

In the park, one sunny afternoon

The sun is shining and I am
(as usual)
Thinking of you
(mostly wondering why it is always you)
There is a hobo-looking-guy smoking a joint
(i quite like the smell)
I feel like I want to climb the rope-tower-thing
(we used to call it 'the rocket')
And feel like I am on top of the world
Or sit on a swing and swing as high as I can
Until my legs get tired
Or hop on the round-a-bout and ask the hobo
To push me round until I get dizzy
The sun is still shining
The hobo is still smoking his joint
I haven't done any of the things I felt like doing
(and I'm still thinking of you)

Because I Hate The Thought of Leaving

I am supposed to be reading a book

Or doing something equally as productive

Instead I am thinking about going home

And I am wondering if we will ever meet again

I am hoping that today is not our last

I am hoping that tomorrow is not the start of the new beginning that I need

I am hoping that you will choose to be a part of that new beginning that I need

I know that I should not want more than I have

I know that I should not think this is more than what it is

I know that there is nothing more and nothing less

And yet a small part of me wishes for it to be

I cannot help but think that you will forget

That you do not feel as I do

But I will not apologise for these fleeting thoughts

I know that it does not matter whether this is more or less

I know that it does not matter if we are or we will never be

I know that it does not matter if you choose to forget

I know that it does not matter if this is the last time

I will always know you as the only one

Who could see straight into my soul

And stare unflinchingly at the ugliness inside

Let's...

Let's make love under an apple tree
Let's dance in the rain
Let's hold hands and press our bodies close
Let's make promises that we could never keep
Let's pretend forever is only a day
Let's read a book and make it our story
Let's say goodbye and break our hearts

Forgive Me, Father

Help me, Father, I have wandered off the path you so carefully described to me.
I am lost in this world, one where I do not belong.

I am slowly forgetting your lessons and letting you down.
Please come find me, Father, I beg of you.

I am surrounded by demons of my own making.

I have forgotten your words, Father, I cannot hear your voice above the din in my ears.

Save me, Father, I am not capable of your bravery.

Love me again, Father, though I have filled your heart with bitter disappointment.
Speak my name again, Father, and tell me that you can forgive me my sins.

For Now

I wish I had the courage to say
All of the things I want to
But I am afraid, so afraid
That you will not want to hear them

I want to tell you that you
Are all that I can think of
That you are the first who has
Made me feel truly alive

I want to tell you that you
Are everything I have ever dreamed of
That you are perfect in every
Single little thing you do

I want to tell you that
I love you, want you , need you
More than anything I have
Ever loved, wanted, needed before

But I am not yet brave enough
Or sure enough, to speak these words
Out loud, to you, in person or writing
So I shall hold my tongue

                        For now

Because I Can't Sleep (and You're Not Here)

It's five thirty am
I am sitting in on the couch almost naked
I feel like I should be doing something productive
Like sleeping
Or maybe eating
I need to clean up
And buy food – more food
I need to do lots of things

I'm wishing that you were here with me
Because then I wouldn't be writing this
I would be sleeping beside you
Curled up and peaceful
Or maybe stretched out like the cat
Things would be okay then
Because I would feel warm
And maybe a little fuzzy inside

It's almost light outside
Sleeping seems like a redundant thought
I hope the sun will shine today
Then I might go outside again
And actually appreciate the niceness
I might just make a sandwich
And get on the bus
And go to the loch
And write things that are nicer than this

I'm wishing you were here even more
Because I could wake you and tell you
That we're going to sit by the water's edge
And watch the sunlight reflect off the ripples
Of the freezing loch waters
And write things and talk about the things that we write
And then you could hold me when it gets too cold
And I would feel happier than I feel just now

I'm not sure what I would do if you were here
I would laugh and maybe cry and maybe kiss you
Because those are the kinds of things I do
And you would laugh because I am crying
And I would laugh because you are laughing
And I like to see you laugh
I would like it if we were laughing together
While we sit by the loch and drink tea
From a thermos – I feel like that should have
A Capital Letter T

It is almost six am now
It feels like I've wasted twenty minutes
Trying to make sense
And I still don't feel any better
And you're still not here
I think I might just sleep now
It seems better than going out in the cold

re: World of Warcraft

You're different than the others I've known
You're more than I expected
You're more than I wanted
You're everything I ever needed
It's funny how that happens
When you least expect it
I won't ask you why though
I'm tired of questions
Let's be WoW boyfriend & girlfriend?

In The Rain, Once

I kissed a stranger, in the rain, once
It felt good in a cheesy kind of way
I remember thinking he was beautiful then
With his crooked smile

I kissed a stranger, in the rain, once
And took him home
We dried ourselves by a fire or a radiator
And we smiled

I kissed a stranger, in the rain, once
It felt creepy in a good sort of way
I wondered if we'd ever see each other again
And smile those crooked smiles

Things Are Happening/Things Are Not Good

Things aren't quite going my way.
I'm kind of having a hard time.
You should help me fix things.
Want to know how?
Click that donate button up there.
Also, I have some news -
"You Only Tell Me I'm Beautiful When I'm Naked"
Will be available for download on Monday.
That's a whole week earlier than I had promised.
See how nice I am?
Oh, and this is an excerpt:

You should be excited about this.
And you should totally donate some pennies.

I Don't Know What TOG This Duvet Is.

I am in my bed.
On my own.
This is the first time in seven years I have slept alone.
It feels odd.
But 'liberating' too.
Now I can sleep any which way I want to.
I have no pillows.
Or bed covers.
At least I have a duvet.

The End

We broke up at 2am.
I feel numb.
He's in the shower.
I should leave.
But that would just upset him more.
Don't know what to do any more.
Why am I still here?
I should have left hours ago.
I'm... Sorry.

Oversharing?

I share too much, or too little.
I’m not sure anymore.

I’m lost.

Fucked.

Going nowhere.

I don’t know what I’m doing any more.

Everything I do is wrong.

All the time.

I’m tired.

I’m done.

I wish this was better.

I wish this was happier.

I wish for a lot of things.

I should stop doing that.

Wishes don’t come true.

I am a mess.

I am stupid.

I am useless.

I am an idiot.

I am broken.

I am defeated.

I am deflated.

I am drowning.

I am swamped.

I am tired.

I am hopeless.

I am hopeful.

I am ending.

I am beginning.

I have lost my mind.

I have lost my soul.

I don’t know who I am.

I don’t know what I am.

I am lost.

I AM DEPRESSED

TMNY: A girl, her hair & hipster glasses.

So I made this thing.

You should read it. 

For srs.

The Human Condition?

Rambling Thoughts

You know what really sucks? Being told that you are a dirty whore. That you deserve everything that is happening to you. When you are eight years old. Being subject to the whims of someone else. Doing as you are told in the hopes that bad things won't happen. They still happen. They don't stop. Having to keep secrets that almost kill you. That's what sucks. Becoming bitter, and poisonous and hateful. That sucks. Not being able to make it stop. That sucks. Being scared to sleep, and scared to wake up. Wishing that you were dead every single day. Nightmares. Flashbacks. Memories. They all suck. Being scared to tell because no one will believe you. That sucks. Having these memories taking over your entire life. Having his lessons stuck in your head. Not caring about yourself. Not caring about anything but getting rid of the pain. That sucks. Not knowing how to say how you're feeling out loud. Not knowing how to put all of that hurt, hatred, misery, disgust, self loathing in to words. Having to carry it around on your back like some sort of back pack filled with the heaviest boulders you could find. That sucks. Being so scared of hurting other people in case they do worse to you. Being scared full stop. All of it sucks. Trying to grasp that one straw of hope that keeps slipping away. That feeling of failure every time you slip back into the hole. That sucks. Being a failure because you can't climb out of that hole again. No matter how hard you try. Being scared. Always scared. Wanting to cry for no reason. Taking pills that aren't making a difference. Waking up and not knowing where you are. Not caring where you are. Wishing that you were dead. Wishing that you were someone else. Wishing that it would just stop. The voices. That one face that haunts you every second of every day. That bastard still walking free. Not knowing what to do. Not caring. Losing the fight with the voices in your head. Realising that because of that bastard you may have to spend the rest of your life in therapy. Taking pills. Wondering if you'll ever be sane again. Hallucinations. They suck. Hearing his words echoed over and over again. Hearing yourself say his words over and over again. Believing you are useless. Believing you are a failure. That sucks. Not knowing how to be normal. What the fuck is normal? Disappointing everyone. Leaving behind the ones you love because there is no other way. Not seeing your family for years. Having people think the worst of you. Caring what they think. Forcing yourself to forget they exist because it hurts too much. The lies. The lies that you tell yourself. The lies that you tell every one else. Pretending to be okay because you don't know how else to cope. Having to relive every fucking detail every night in your dreams. That sucks. Having to talk about it. Having to tell people how it makes you feel. Wanting to scream. Wanting to cry. Wanting to break something. Anything. Yourself. Bleeding in secret because it's the only thing that distracts you from the torture you put yourself through. The torture you learned from him. Wishing that you could just forget. Putting shit in your system trying to do just that. Blocking it out. Alcohol. Drugs. Wanting to die. Wishing it had never happened. Playing a constant game of what if. Wondering what he's doing right now. Wondering why he chose you. Wondering what you did that was so wrong. Losing faith. Being punished for something that wasn't your fault. Having to talk about how you're feeling. Having to relive all of it. Explaining. Wondering why anyone would care about a dirty, useless piece of shit. Remembering. Wanting to forget. Not knowing how to explain. Not knowing how to fix it. Trying to fix everything because you can't fix your own life. Trying to make everyone else happy because that's the only way to stop bad things happening. Learning the wrong things. Not knowing any more. Wanting to give up. Trying to fight. Fighting. With yourself. With memories. Failing. Falling. Getting back up again. Fighting some more. Wanting to give up. Wondering if anyone would notice if you just gave up. Worrying about someone else so you don't have to worry about the things in your head. Wishing it would stop. Listening to the doubtful voices in your head telling you you're useless. Believing them. Failing. Fighting. Over and over again. Will anyone notice if you're not okay? Pretend you're okay so no one guesses what's really going on. Being numb so you don't have to feel the pain. Being heartless so you don't hurt. Wishing the pain would stop. Wishing. Always wishing. Trying to change things. Being dragged backwards by your own doubts. Trying to win. Losing. Failing. Falling. Not making sense. Getting mixed up. Being scared. Nightmares that don't stop. Staying up all night so you don't have to dream. Becoming the monster that you were always scared of. Hurting yourself. Hurting everyone. Living a life so full of pain you forget what it feels like to be at peace. Turmoil. Shadows jumping out at you. Wondering why the pills don't work. Wishing you didn't have to take them. Blocking out the pain with more pills. Not caring what happens to you any more. Getting into stupid situations. Hurting yourself on purpose because you deserve anything better. Wishing it would stop. Learning what life is supposed to be like. Feeling like you don't deserve that. Because he told you so. Personality disorder. Because he fucked you up. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Because he mentally and physically raped you. Medication. Because he twisted you into something no one recognises any more. Trying to figure out who you're supposed to be. Trying to find a way to recognise the right from the wrong. Trying to be someone else. Failing. Believing all the things he has ever said to you. Echoing it. Feeling it. Wishing that you knew how to fix this mess that you've become. Feeling like you're making progress and then fucking up again. Seeing your family after years apart and drowning in more memories. More nightmares. Wishing you could just give up. Trying to fight. Failing. Always failing. Feeling better. Feeling worse. Not finding a balance. Going from one to another like a yo-yo. Wishing you could just stop somewhere in the middle. Feel normal. Wondering why you can't settle. Wondering why you can't just be. Hoping that you;ll wake up tomorrow and feel happy again. Feeling bad when you don't. Feeling worse because you don't know why you feel like this. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing how to cope. Trying to be okay. Not being okay. Trying not to be miserable. Trying not to upset others. Wishing you could just be numb again. Wishing you didn't feel so bad. Being sorry. Apologising. Always apologising. Wondering when you'll learn that not everything you do is wrong. Not everything is your fault. It never has been your fault. Wondering what you can do to fix it. Not knowing the answers. Not wanting to burden any one else with your worries. Worrying that you're worrying everyone else. Trying to be okay so no one worries. Feeling like shit because your thoughts and words and feelings upset someone else. Wishing that you would stop being so damn sensitive. Wondering how you turned into this. Wondering why you're not stronger. Wondering why you can't seem to get it right. Always wondering. Always trying. Always wanting to give up. Always failing. Hoping that one day it will get better. Hoping that you'll be able to keep fighting. All of that really sucks.

I Wish I Believed In Jesus

My family is Muslim. 
I was raised Muslim.
I never believed in any of it.
I wore a headscarf for a while, I kind of hated it though.
I tried to pretend to believe in holy things, and I was jealous of the ones who didn’t have to pretend.
I pretend a lot, I pretend I’m happy when I’m not. 
I pretend I’m cool, and smart, and ‘individual’. 
I am none of these things. 
I’m not sure what I am. 
I do wish I believed in Jesus though.
He seems like he’s really happy, and cool, and smart and individual. 

I. Am. Done.

I am never writing another thing ever again.

My words are poison.
I should stop spreading that poison around.
This is the last thing I will ever write.
This is the last honest thing I will share.

I am done.

Sitting Scared

I am sitting here
Right now
Contemplating things
I like to say I’m
‘Contemplating’
It makes me seem thoughtful
Or something like that
I am not very thoughtful
Or mindful, or anything else
I just… am
I am just sitting here
Wondering why I am
So damn scared to write