Dazed and Amused.

Kitten. 23. Writer since I was 7. Troublemaker since birth. Lovable pain in the ass 'til death. “I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?” -Plath

[haleyhellcat]

Chewing My Nails Past The Bone

Is that nail polish?

No, it’s my blood.

All of it?

Yes, all of it. It’s all my blood. It’s all my blood.

You seemed disgusted or worried or maybe both.

I get it.

It’s unsightly.

It’s unsanitary.

It’s unseemly.

It’s not like I want to make myself bleed.

This is the farthest I’ve ever gotten down on my nails.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it looks.

I’ve gotten use to how they look.

It’s only painful when I go too far,

but what is too far when you’re always pushing your boundaries?

Fuck, I’m biting my nails in between sentences like I can’t control myself.

I can’t control myself.

I’ve tried to quit more times than I can remember.

My mother attempted to stop my habit at the start.

Using everything from mittens to bitter tasting nail polish to end my compulsion,

but I was unstoppable. 

I would even bite my baby doll’s nails when mine weren’t sufficient.

I couldn’t get enough.

I blame my parents for taking the bottle away too soon and leaving me with this fixation.

To be honest,

sometimes I blame them for my anxiety.

Maybe I wouldn’t be such a big ball of nervous energy and fidgety hands if someone was there to guide me through my stress;

instead of discrediting any negative emotion based on my young age.

I wish you could’ve seen all the signs.

Maybe you weren’t looking,

or didn’t want to see my early manifestations of anxiety and depression.

Stepping back, it all seems so obvious to me especially since I had OCD.

Maybe you thought it was just a nasty habit I had of picking my nails,

but it was just the start of me picking myself apart.

Maybe you thought I’d grow out of it,

but I grew into it. 

I grew into my anxiety

and it fits one size too small.

12.7.16-3.17.17

[haleyhellcat]

It’s Not You, It’s Me

It’s hard to tell the person you love that existing feels extra tough some days.

Sometimes you don’t wanna remind them that they tied themselves to a dark cloud.

You feel like a broken record telling them, “I just don’t feel well today” for the fourth time that week.

I don’t want you to see this side of me, but I can’t hide from you.

[haleyhellcat]

I Hated You For Reminding Me Of The Constant Potential Of Cruelty In Humanity That I Try So Hard To Forget

It was like someone slowly sneaking a blanket up my back, past my shoulders, and over my head.

It was a dark energy.

I suddenly felt tears pouring from my eyes,

but I didn’t know I was crying.

I suddenly felt anxiety punch me in the stomach.

I suddenly felt scared.

I had to make sure the little knife you gave me for our anniversary was in arms length of my bedside.

Bed has been the safe zone for the past couple days since we heard her story.

A ghost story that has left me with the lights on so the monsters can’t get to me.

The floor feels like lava burning from trauma.

It was an eruption of violence,

and an explosion of agony felt it so many different ways.

A pain felt by so many people.

I could feel the rays of traumatization coming off of her like waves of radiation.

This is a poisoned thought,

but that could of been me.

[haleyhellcat]

When You Love a Broken Person

You said you’re attracted to the broken.

I remember you telling your brother that you need to be needed.

A happy girl isn’t lookin’ for what you’re sellin’.

You want to be the smile on a sad girl’s face.

You want to crack the code behind the cause of Mona Lisa’s smile.

Is that when you got tired of trying to fix me?

When you realized that you hadn’t seen me smile in weeks?

That after years together you don’t understand why I cry.

Don’t be deterred, I still don’t understand either.

This winter has been so bitterly cold that every smile tastes like blood from the cracks in my lips.

I can’t help but to constantly bite them when I’m anxious.

I wish I could control my nervous habits.

I wish I could control myself at all.

I want to let my lips heal, but my impulse is to pick and tear myself apart from the cracks.

I have a counterintuitive personality. 

It’s my burden to seek balance.

It’s my burden.

Seeing my sadness seep through the cracks and staining the rest of my life made me want to change my ways.

When I saw my sadness reflecting back at me through your eyes I wanted to change my ways.

I swear I want to change my ways.

I’m a sad person.

I’ve always found a part of my identity in those words.

I started digging this deep well of sadness in my soul when I was eight years old.

I’ve spent the past two-thirds of my life crying in classes, going to the counselor’s office, and punishing myself with a running stream of self-depreciating thoughts.

Luckily no one else has done the math.

I feel like you’re the only person I can’t hide from.

I hid away all the little imperfections of my life so no one would worry.

So no one would pity me.

So no one would know the truth about me.

Being known as emotionally closed off is better than what I really am.

I didn’t want anyone to see that little girl who ran out of countless classroom in a fit of unexpected, unexplained, and overwhelming sadness.

I’ve gotten better at containing my tears and hiding the sorrow.

I became a depression magician over the years.

I could make my obvious symptoms disappear.

I could pull fake smiles out of a top hat.

I could avoid the mirrors with all of my smoke.

It’s too bad I was deceived by my own deceptions.

An illusionist tricked in their own game.

A con-artist trapped in their masterpiece.

I guess what I’m trying to say that I’m sorry your love-spell couldn’t break my curse.

I’m sorry true love’s kiss didn’t grant us a happily ever after.

I’m sorry you love a broken person.

[haleyhellcat]

Cellular Knowledge Of How To Heal

***This is an unique poem because of the way it was written. Almost every sentence was a one-liner, a passing thought that I wrote down in my phone. I threw together all my random thoughts from the first half of 2015 with a similar theme to create this poem.***

You’re the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me because you confirm my worst fears and my fulfill my greatest fantasies.

I’m worried that I love the idea of you more than the actual you.

I’m afraid that you love me more as a memory.

If I was someone else I would love me.

If I was a stranger to myself I would see past my flaws and appreciate the person underneath the hard shell. 

I would see the scared little girl protecting her over-sized, fragile heart the only way she knows how.

I’m constantly trying to dull myself down.

Trying to make myself feel less.

I’ve been held hostage my own addiction.

I’m sorry that I’m too much, but never enough.

I hate everything that I am.

I hate that I try to be something I’m not.

I try to be strong, independent, and practical, to the point of my own demise;

because I’m frail, needy, and I wanna follow my heart.

I grew up in a house where the less feelings were the best feelings.

I forgot to redefine myself after I escaped.

I still wear my prison uniform under all my civilian clothing. 

I’m imprisoned by own thoughts.

I use to worry that I was too pragmatic for passion.

Too logical for love.

I was worried I couldn’t stay in love because I could rationalize for both sides,

why I should be with you forever,

and why humans aren’t built to be monogamous. 

I love you so;

I’d like to believe if I wasn’t good for you I’d let you go.

I’m scared of future regret.

Scared to the point of self-destructive stillness.

We’re an accident in timing. 

[haleyhellcat]

Old one-liner for my love.

[haleyhellcat]

This Is Long Because I Will Never Write Another Poem About You

You’re a toxic person.

You poisoned me.

I took a lethal dose of you, but somehow

I’m still breathing.

I don’t know how I survived you.

The weeks,

the months

after you left I wished you ended me like you ended

us.

You left with no explanation,

no excuse,

no ending.

You left me wondering.

You left me and I was lost.

After you I stumbled into love with another person who was ironically similar to you.

It was the first relationship I had in over a year that I didn’t end because of the whispers in my ear 

since you dug your claws into me.

Any boy that I brought around wouldn’t last long under your harsh scrutiny.

It wasn’t til months after you left that I realized why you never thought anyone was good enough for me.

You wanted me all to yourself.

You wanted me as your “default best friend”, and your lover, and your secretary, and your therapist, and your sidekick.

I became an extension of you.

I became who you wanted and what you needed.

I let the smoke cloud my judgment.

I was happily hazy and always along for the ride.

I sat in the passenger seat of my own life and

I let you take control

because it was easier than making decisions.

You made me feel like that was a gift you were giving me.

The gift of silence and submission.

But you weren’t granting me a freedom,

you were stripping me of a right.

Wherever we went I knew that I didn’t have to talk.

You would speak for me.

I never said no, because you said yes for me.

And trust me, there were times where I should of said no. 

I didn’t have to put myself in uncomfortable and sometimes even dangerous situations with you.

I didn’t have to do half the shit I did for you,

but I willing did it and I never complained because there was a time that I thought I was in love with you.

Which honestly is the worst part.

The deception,

the manipulation,

the abuse

could never make me sad or cringe the same way that thinking about you having my heart does.

You never knew how I felt though, you didn’t really know me at all. 

You didn’t know that on rainy nights when you were driving too fast around a corner that I wished we would crash. 

I was praying for an accidental death. 

An easy end without anyone ever knowing that’s what I secretly wanted.

My whole life felt like a secret.

I was secretly suicidal,

and secretly kind of dating my best friend,

who I was secretly in love with.

Secrets, secrets, secrets.

It took me a long time to tell our friends about us,

mostly because it took me a while to figure out we were over without you ever telling me,

and it took a while longer for me to realize that you leaving was the best thing you could of done for me.

I’m glad you’re gone.

You’re a toxic person and you poisoned me,

but somehow 

I’m not contaminated. 

[poems-and-words]

[poems-and-words]

[haleyhellcat]

You Made Me

I remember it like it was yesterday.

You drew back a tight fist that was aimed at my face,

but I moved in the nick of time and you punched me in the back instead.

You said I was lucky.

I felt fucking lucky.

I felt like the only normal person in an insane asylum.

You were always yelling.

Always fighting.

You made me yell.

You made me fight.

I haven't learned how to be at peace.

After you hit me I couldn’t lean back in my desk at school for a week.

I had to sit with no support,

but I survived.

You made me survive.

I’m still in survival mode,

I don’t know how to switch it off.

I don’t know how to put down my guard after wearing a suit of armor for 18 years.

Fear made me light on my feet.

You unknowingly taught me how to walk on egg shells.

How to sneak around a house.

How to be unheard and unseen.

I felt like a mouse in a snake’s cage.

Just waiting for you to strike.

The murmurs of arguments traveling up two floors through the vents and straight into my room were like the rattling of a snake’s tail.

A warning.

Just a little mouse trapped in a place where it only belongs from a biological standpoint.

I belonged there because you’re my family, my biology;

but I was trapped,

because like the mouse it wasn’t safe place for me to be.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Soon after you hit me I threatened my obnoxious friend in media arts class.

I told her I was gonna punch her in the face if she even jokingly called me stupid one.

more.

time.

You awoke a thirst in me to fight,

but I never stopped feeling like that mouse constantly anticipating confrontation. 

I became the thing I feared most without ever stop being afraid of it.

I scare myself.

You made me scared.

[haleyhellcat]

[ cloud overview ] [ get your own cloud ] This is a Tumblr Cloud I generated from my blog posts between Jun 2015 and Oct 2015 containing my top 25 used words. Top 1 blogs I reblogged the most:

[haleyhellcat]

A Cut Is A Cry In A Different Language

I can turn a razor blade into a time machine.

Every time I drag that blade against my skin I travel through space and become 15 years old again.

That little girl who would tear through the skin on her arm or thighs only satisfied until some of the poison drained out from the cuts.

I wanted to release the bad spirits caught in my blood.

I felt possessed.

Seven unlucky years later and I still get spooked when the anxiety bubbles over and the only way to restore my power is to control the pain.

If it’s on my terms then it’s almost okay.

If I was the one who left the scars then I could wear them with pride.

I’ve always loved the way they made my outside match my inside;

torn up.

Each one is a story only I can read like braille.

It’s like writing on paper wasn’t enough for me.

I wanted to carve the memory of my moments of weakness into my skin like hieroglyphics on the pyramids.

Each one is recording history.

A history of pain and suffering.

I like to soak in my own sadness.

Get high off my depression.

I’m an abuser of any substance I can get my claws into.

Drugs, 

alcohol,

depression, 

men.

It’s such a fucking cliche, but I’m my own worst enemy.

I’m the only thing standing in my way.

I’ve grown too attached to an identity that hasn’t been true to myself in years.

As another year rolls by it gets harder and harder to throw away the person that I always thought I was for someone who I’m not even sure that I wanna be.

For someone I don’t even know how to be.

I had the realization yesterday that I didn’t become a psych major to understand other people,

I did it as my best attempt to try and understand myself. 

[haleyhellcat]

Between You & Me

Seeing you rest between my thighs endeared you to me.

No other man has climbed my mountains then rested at my peak.

You’re so goddamn beautiful I almost hate you for it.

I’ve been so out of character since I met you. 

I got swallowed up by my big role of being a mystery.

More of a puzzle than a person.

I feel like an amnesia victim,

I can’t remember anything.

Who am I?

Who are you?

What are we doing?

This was less confusing before I started asking questions. 

Let’s go back; 

you and me.

Let’s go back to you resting on me with my legs draped over your shoulders. 

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable laying with someone. 

I’m a fiercely guarded person, but when you look at me with those big eyes it almost makes me want to let you in;

and between you and me, 

I’m close.

[haleyhellcat]

Baby’s First Existential Crisis

It’s funny how the unknown can make you feel so insignificant.

Almost as funny as how death can make you feel so alone. 

All I ever wanted was to be on my own.

Now I’m paying the price of freedom.

I’m overdrawn, 

and I know my bills are due soon.

Oh God. 

I’ve been looking for a glimmer of a sign or a pattern 

in the stars or your eyes.

I’ve been making wishes instead of decisions,

because I don’t trust myself enough anymore to know what’s best.

I need a partner who helps me take the lead.

I got so use to being the passenger on someone else’s adventures.

Putting all of my energy in someone else and their thoughts

over my own.

I’ve always been a contradicting combination of co-dependent and independent. 

I’m the kind of person who is so good at helping other people, playing secretary 

or mommy that I neglected my own needs.

I forgot how to take care of myself.

Depression has a funny way up putting up your blinders like that.

I’ve never been in a healthy relationship,

because I’ve never been a healthy person.

I’ve always overslept or felt like an insomniac. 

Felt too much or went emotionally numb.

Loved too hard or didn’t care at all.

Now I’m craving stability.

I feel so uncertain about every aspect of my life,

I want to disappear into someone else.

Solve their problems,

and forget that mine exist.

Oh how I wish I could run away from myself

and find some direction or purpose.

Find some significance.

Find something.

Find me.

[haleyhellcat]

Back To The Past

I wanna be close to you,

but there’s so much distance between us

and I’m not talking about the miles.

I wanna be close to you,

but there’s so much I can’t say.

I’m a guarded person because it’s the only way I can remain. 

I wear this impenetrable suit of armor because I can’t take the pain.

I live in a lonely world and I know I always complain,

but I don’t know how to open up my universe

and these words all sound the same.

I feel like I’m in a completely different galaxy than everyone else.

I feel past all the planets, 

far beyond where life can be sustained.

There’s no air out here.

I’m suffocating 

and I’m living off the last scraps in my oxygen tank.

Even as everything starts to go black 

I still can’t escape my past.

I wanna be close to you,

but I can feel a wall between us, even if you can’t see it.

I wanna be close to you,

but I have a million reasons why I’m guarded and I’m not sure which one I’m ready share with you.

I wanna be close to you,

but I need to go back to my past and heal all the hurt

before I can go back to our future and start to convert.

[haleyhellcat]

Uncensored

I saw you.

I wanted you.

I needed you. 

I need you pressed against me,

your breath crawling down my neck,

whispering my name in between sighs.

I want you begging for me.

Moaning for my touch,

craving my lips running down your stomach

and exploring.

I need you running your hands over my body,

memorizing all my curves like they’re the answers to a math test.

I want you out of breath and out of your mind;

I want to drive you crazy.

[haleyhellcat]

When I Met Him

I’ve realized that I’m not a good judge of character.

When I was younger I trusted all the wrong people.

I worshiped people who mislead me.

False idols.

Committing sins.

Now as I get older I’ve discovered a new pattern of underestimating people.

Misjudging.

Assuming.

When I met him I thought we would have nothing in common.

More differences than similarities. 

It’s like I thought I had him all figured out by scrolling through pictures.

I thought we would flirt, hang out once maybe, talk a little, but it wouldn’t actually go anywhere.

When I met him I didn’t think I would end up feeling this way.

I didn’t really think I would feel any way.

I didn’t think I would find treasures buried beneath the surface.

I didn’t think I would find inspiration in shared moments, longing stares, and unexpected sweetness.

When I met him I knew that this had potential.

Something that I never considered before became a possibility in mere hours

when I met him.