untitled

a place to share my thoughts and words ic: @wolfythewitch

[anchorwithnoship]

i have a glass of lemonade on my desk

i know i shouldn't, it'll burn

but i can't help wanting some

even as i peel the skin from my lips

and continuously wipe the blood with my fingers

i'll still reach for the drink

i'll let it sting my lips

and burn my throat

after all

this pain is temporary

[anchorwithnoship]

pressing on my bruises until they don’t hurt

eyes filling with tears until i can’t see

yet they don’t drip down my face

there are no wounds for blood to pour from

but i feel it staining my hands all the same

a sob is building in the back of my throat

begging to be released

but if there is anything i am not

it is a burden

my pain has always been silent

the screams have always been contained

bouncing around my head until they become white noise

the background sounds to my daily life

the day this became my normal has long since been forgotten

[anchorwithnoship]

it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand

i can lie to myself all i want but i’ve never truly liked how i look

maybe the blame lies with my parents

they never showed me how to be confident in how i looked, no matter what

no

it was always “wear this, not that”

“don’t eat too much of that, eat more of this”

“you’re gaining that weight back, what happened”

no

i was never taught how to love myself and i don’t think i can learn

[anchorwithnoship]

i took the thing that used to be ours

and finally made it mine.

now i watch it with my brother,

any memories i had with you

are slowly being written over.

not erased,

because i don’t think i’m strong enough

to do that right now.

but i took what used to be ours

and made it mine.

[anchorwithnoship]

it’s not summer, and it’s not spring,

it’s february 14th, valentines day.

it’s a tuesday so my parents are out; doing the running around and errands.

my sister is at a weeklong job; dog sitting, house sitting, what have you.

so it is me, by myself, at this house.

it’s not spring or summer,

but i’m laying on my floor with the window open and as many fans on as possible.

i’m sweaty and panting, begging for my body to cool down quickly.

running around and taking care of this is a load of work, but i can rest now.

i’ve abandoned my headphones;

instead, i listen to the buzzing of my refrigerator, the whirring of the fans around me, the roosters crowing and hens squawking, the cars passing on my road, and the ringing in my ear.

i’ve come to realize that i don’t particularly like being alone.

i like my space, yes, and i like alone time, but i much prefer having some other body nearby.

i thought being alone was something i enjoyed and craved,

but when i am alone it just feels stifling.

i don’t enjoy being alone all that much, much less being lonely.

what i really like is having company and silence.

most people might think i’m odd to say such things, but i think it makes perfect sense.

all these are thought i’m having while laying on my floor, on february 14th, while other people are with their significant others.

i can’t say i mind it too much, but i do wish it would feel a little like winter sometime soon;

because it’s not summer, and it’s not yet spring.

“are you bored yet?”

[tunisian]

any amount of love given will never be love wasted any amount of love given will never be love wasted any amount of love given will never be love wasted

[anchorwithnoship]

i am not hungry, yet my body feels empty. i crave for this feeling to leave me be, but there is nothing i can do for it on my own.

if i ask it of you, would you help? if i must give you something in return then simply name your price. i will offer most anything if you find the answer to my predicament.

if the answer is you, if you are what will make my life full of something, you shall have a place here. whether temporary or not, that is for you to decide, as are the terms.

i will accept what is given, as long as my body does not feel as empty as it did to begin with.

- “empty body”

[anchorwithnoship]

everyone is born with a candle.

as you get older you get to experiment and find out which lighter works with your candle.

eventually, you’ll light it and find someone to give your candle to, and you’ll be entrusted with theirs in return.

no ones candle is the same as another; some are big, some small, some short, and some are tall.

i was born with a small short candle.

i grew up watching everyone find their lighter at different ages.

some were in their early teens, some their twenties.

there were even those didn’t admit the lighter they’ve had for years didn’t actually work on their candle until later in life, when they found the one that does.

i’m nineteen years old and have had my candle with me since i was born.

i haven’t found my lighter yet.

i thought there might be someone i could light my candle for, but i couldn’t.

i can’t.

i haven’t found my lighter yet, and i’m starting to come to terms with the fact that i never will.

you can only be in denial for so long. before you have to acknowledge that you were born with a wickless candle.

it doesn’t matter how long i wait or how much i pretend random lighters that were tossed aside will eventually light it; there is no lighting a candle that never had a wick.

- “candle with no flame”

[anchorwithnoship]

thalassophobia means i am afraid of the ocean. the deep, dark abyss teeming with life we do not know of. staring into the deep unknown and not being able to grasp the depths of what could be hiding. the fact that i cannot swim plays into this, along with my fear of drowning.

none of this means i cannot see the beauty of the sea, i could look at pictures of the vast basin of blue from the comfort of my room; the ability to lock the visualization away at a moments notice with the click of a button.

sometimes i wish i didn’t fear the gentle waves and sounds of it crashing onto shore, the tide growing every minute as the sun slips out of sight. i sit on the sands and capture it through my phone to later imagine what it would feel like on my skin; would it be a mild sort of cold, bringing a slight chill to my skin, or would it be frigid enough that i wouldn’t be able to stand it for a full sixty seconds.

one day i hope to find someone who loves the ocean and all it’s uncertainties as much as i despise it, so that, maybe then, they could weave stories and wonders of how such a boundless, formidable antagonist could be loving and tranquil. i wish for this person to hold my hand as they encourage me to trade my corse ground for smooth, cool sand. they hold me as i wade through the unpredictable back and forth of the water, showing me that i can enjoy the silence it grants me while knowing i can still be afraid.

they tell me that, while it can be loud and violent, the one thing the sea will always do for you is keep your secrets. she gives you a place to come and speak without being judged, to scream without creating worries and burdens, to whisper and know that she will respond in kind.

i am afraid of the sea and others like it, the rough storms and wild waves it brings frightens me; however, i am not afraid of them. my companion. for they are like the sea and they are the sea. they are the soothing current and the raging typhoons, they keep my secrets and offer me comfort.

my love is the sea, but i am bound to land by the terror of that which i yearn for.

- “the sea and it’s love”

[anchorwithnoship]

the earth is green.

if you look at it from space, search everywhere on the internet for satellite pictures, the earth is green.

but what about when the season of the earth in various places is autumn, or winter, and quite a bit of trees have lost their leaves in numerous locations all around?

the earth is still green.

just because a portion of the earths land has lost it’s color, it’s vibrancy, doesn’t mean it’s visible when looking from far away. when you look at the big picture.

why should it be any different with people?

… with me.

if you look at me from far away, from the outside. my appearance. it’s still green.

but my leaves are falling, my trees are becoming bare as the cold sets in. you can’t see it because you can’t get up close and personal, you can’t see the inside of me, the minor details.

you focus on the big picture. that i showed up, that i’m smiling, laughing, having fun and wearing nice clothes. if you only zoomed in and saw the dead leaves, that a lot of my earth isn’t as green as you first thought. you would notice the bruises under my eyes, the lack of light in my eyes, the tear smudged makeup, my bleeding lips, and shaking hands.

but, after all, appearances are deceiving

[anchorwithnoship]

it’s not that i’m the side character in my own story, i’m just the side character.

i don’t have my own story.

i was put in place with the classic sad backstory, but one where it made me the loveable comedic relief and best friend on-screen. the one who’s there for the benefit of others, for the main character.

on-screen is what matters, no one cares what happens off-screen if it doesn’t play a part in the main plot line.

it doesn’t matter that the comedic-relief-best-friend spends weeks, even months, wallowing in their bed. their sheets haven’t seen a change since the season before last, the clothes they dawn after a long awaited shower are the same they wore before it, they don’t trade their socks out until the ones they’re wearing have tears too large to be comfortable anymore.

no one cares about what goes on off-screen because there is no reason for them to.

the beloved side character painstakingly practices their smile in the mirror, they laugh to themselves as a rehearsal, warm-up on their lines, their jokes, to clear out the voice that’s become rusty from disuse, stretch their bones and muscles, creaky and sore from neglect, in preparation for their classic extravagant hand movements.

it doesn’t matter what happens to the side character off-screen, because it’s their time to shine again.

they step on-screen with tragedy in their eyes, but a thousand watt smile on their lips.

[anchorwithnoship]

love is such a human emotion.

it is a word we use to encompass all that we feel for a person, yes, but it is not the most important.

if i told someone that i loved them but i didn’t trust them, what would that mean? would my love for them still overshadow everything else? or would it be that no amount of love could ever make up for lack of trust that a relationship needs to healthily thrive.

love is a human emotion in that we could say we love someone, mean it with all that we are, but take all of our meaningless belongs and leave our “love” months later when decided that we’ve had enough.

wolves do not face this problem.

they find their chosen mate and stay with them until one, or both, die.

the average lifespan for a wolf is three years, if they don’t find a mate until they’re two it’s safe to assume that they’ll only have, at most, three years together.

that seems like such a sort time for us, three years. how could anyone, human or mammal, live a, even remotely, satisfying life. it takes us an estimated four years of college before we graduate and can finally begin to live.

in that time a wolf has turned one, left their pack to find a mate, and lived three or four years with their chosen one, possibly having pups, a pack, before dying; however, i have a feeling they wouldn’t be unsatisfied by how their life played out.

love is such a fickle emotion, such a human concept.

we use it so easily and freely, when really it should be something to consider. love shouldn’t be something we use as the highest show of our affections, it should be a way to simplify a multitude of words and emotions that can be hard to express individually. it could be a way to sum up so many thoughts and feelings like: i’m willing to be vulnerable with you, i’m willing to let you in and show you things i rarely, if ever, have shown others, you’re my person, you’re someone i yearn for, i’m fond of you, i want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me; but most importantly, it should be a way of saying, “i trust you. i am willing to trust you with everything i have, even if you aren’t there yet.”

if only it were that simple for us humans, but we only have ourselves to blame as we are the ones who complicate things unnecessarily.

wolves are different, they are how we could be. there is no word wolves use for love, there is no true way for us translate the way they feel, how they feel. wolves don’t need words and complex gestures to prove we love someone like we do, they have a lifelong devotion to their mate and their unshakable trust with their pack.

love is a fickle thing, the way humans use it, but trust…

trust shows a deeper bond that doesn’t fully compare.

you can trust someone without loving them, but how can you love someone and not trust them?

- “human emotion”