🌹

INTJ | 5w4 | Leo | Mediocre poetry blog

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

I don’t want to be sick anymore

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

Sometimes I just want this darkness to swallow me whole. I don’t feel like fighting anymore

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

I am still learning to love every part of me that you have left completely and utterly broken; but no matter how hard I try… I cannot go back to the little girl I was when I met you. I would do anything to not be this jaded anymore. I miss the person I was before I met you.

—she was so kind

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

After years of altering my face into someone I thought you could love… I finally realized this: All the plastic surgery in the world will never change the way you feel about yourself. You can never become beautiful enough for a man who does not want you.

-he may have never loved me, but who am I really apart from being pretty?

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

It was never gonna be you— but my God did I want it to be.

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

Normalcy is a luxury only the healthy have

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

Mother— when will it finally be enough for you? When I will I be someone finally worth loving in your eyes?

You words are posin, but I’m starting to believe there is vemos running in these veins as well. Maybe we are both rotten to the core.

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

You’ve been dead for almost two years. I’ve been without my best friend for two years, and I’m starting believe no one will ever understand me in a way that you did. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

I am too young to be this sad and tired. I am 23 year old, and already all the hope left in me has just turned into cynicism. I am a captive to my own emotions. 

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

I want so badly to be special—to be noticed. To be seen. To be worthy of love.

But my god... do I still wish I was the least bit like everyone else. Either way I am still an afterthought to you.

—the pain of being different. I feel so fucking invisible to you

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

Most able bodied people only care about chronic illness if it fits into their narrow idea of what is socially acceptable.

I am sorry I cannot make these skin and bones pretty for you, but my God do I wish you cared the least bit about how much they ache. I have spend years of my life gluing back together this body that is more graveyard than temple... please give me enough room to love myself back into a life I feel is worth living again.

—I’m trying so fucking hard please be gentle with me

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

It is exhausting convincing everyone around you that you are someone who is worth respecting

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

To all the able-bodied people who think they know more about my illness than I do—

Keep your stale advice about kale and yoga to yourself because it’s not helping either of us... and frankly it’s just fucking annoying.

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

You cannot ask people to care about you...

They either do—or they don’t.

But on the nights that you feel all alone remember this—

You are the sun; your light will warm every soul that it touches, and this can be a terrible gift to bear when those around you cannot love the same way that you do... heavy and all at once. The sun however, has never apologized for its intensity... and neither should you

And you just like the sun, with each painful sunset you have to offer this world, will rise again.

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

It’s days like these where I feel like God is completely indifferent to my suffering. I wish he would uproot this pain from the very soil it grows... instead of watering me with enough self doubt to drown any last shred of hope I have. I am sick, and tomorrow when I wake up... I will still be sick... and because of this, life can feel like a never ending cycle I can never quite get the hang of. On the days my illness makes an appearance, I find myself to be the butt to every one of life’s jokes... expect I am the only one who never seems to get the punchline.

Look, this isn’t a woe as me tale or an invitation for pity. I just know that nothing can grow admits the darkness of winter—but even while I know that... I still can’t bear to watch everything once beautiful within me begins to whilt away into nothingness. I just wish that this sickness that has poisoned me to my very core would at least have enough mercy to put me out of my own suffering. I wish I had enough Stockholm syndrome left in me to fall in love with the very thing that most people think makes me “me”...

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

... the way you make me feel is like listening to your favorite song for the first time— but I'm just afraid that my ears have gone deaf.

—teach me the sound of music again my love

[fr3ckl3dandf3arl3ss]

I want to be more—but this pain is one I can not weather.

I wanted to love myself— but that connection has been severed.

—this has to be more than growing pains