Friends call me cam

aspiring functional human who writes stuff

[mrcamsrightnipple]

Bad shit I write at 3am

Tell me what you know about dreams.

Tell me what you know of being alone.

You let people in on a flake of your life.

Savour it. It will not come often.

So tell me,

What do you know of being alone?

Nothing.

People surround the boundaries you set,

Stepping as far as each is designated.

Yet I surround you, hoping to get my fill.

Forget me please.

I know much of dreams,

I know much of being alone.

Leave me hungry, do not let me close.

I have already fought the trials of tomorrow.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

The clouds still come

Some days the colours still go grey

It's like a small part of my being seeped away last year

And every now and then I have to pass over the empty spaces in me

It comes less often.

But it will never completely stop

The holes in my soul have become part of me

[mrcamsrightnipple]

My mum making my bed for me from a late drunk night out is mood thanks mum

[itzzniece-deactivated20220328]

Jocelyn Flores 🥀

Source: @itzzniece

[mrcamsrightnipple]

I know you’re somewhere, somewhere.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

Places

There are certain points In this universe you have stolen for yourself.

There are places I can never retrace, without your power taking over me again.

There is a sofa at the back of a coffee house, where laughed and hugged

There is a table at a restaurant right next to a window I can never eat at anymore.

There is a dark corner behind a church we played around in.

There are people I cannot even look at without seeing your face in theirs.

Those missing pieces keep me up at nights like these,

You’re name still comes up in my contacts and tempts me to text.

There are pavements we spent hours talking on, lightened by streetlamps, we embraced under.

There are pieces of my heart you have stolen

While I’m trying to fill them with stale memories of you.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

You know

I have revisited all those spots you claimed in my memory

I sat and laught at the same spot in the coffee house

I have eaten at the same table by the same window

Every dark place our memories lingers, i have walked through and watch them disperse through the night air.

You still hold pieces of me with you. Maybe I'll never be whole again.

Words escape the fate of ending this poem. I suppose feeling this is incomplete would be fitting.

Bye

[daily-self-depreciation]

[mrcamsrightnipple]

This album has really grown on me over time.

I can see loads of potential in this boi.

Plus..... IN THE DAAAAARK

[anxietyproblem]

[askdoctorknow]

A very cute way of describing something serious.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

Ah yes. The unforseen anxiety attack for no apparent reason. Nice one brain

[kappasquirrel]

Is this… grand theft alto?

[kappasquirrel]

How did this get 176 notes?

[kappasquirrel]

I guess music puns just might be my forte.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

I love offbeat comedy!

[mrcamsrightnipple]

Chapter 8 or something:

- blade runner is your favourite sci fi movie?

- yep

- fuck. Marry me.

- nah

- fair enough

.

Fin

[mrcamsrightnipple]

- I’m happy with us sitting here, reading our books and not talking for at least an hour.

- me too. But could you please look up and smile at me every so often.

- ok.

- ok.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

- you’re not like the other girls (!)

- didn’t I tell ya? Back in chapter 1

- ah shit you did

Fin.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

“I feel broken” she said

She didn’t look it to him. She looked whole and unbearably perfect

- excerpt from a short story in progress

[mrcamsrightnipple]

Man, fuck that love shit

[eyyyiwantdeath]

[mrcamsrightnipple]

No. There is another.

[mrcamsrightnipple]

I still get nights where I can't sleep

I'm doing really well, but I still get the nights where I can't sleep

I feel alone

I want attention and that's not a bad thing. People should be allowed to want attention

I want to be loved and wanted. And yeah im doing really well on my own. I'm enjoy learning about myself. I just want someone to smile at me without being prompted

I wonder if you even think about me. I doubt You do anymore. I still think about You and that makes me feel stupid.

I still get nights where I drink too much and stay up staring at my bedroom ceiling. I wonder if anyone else is in the same predicament.

Some days I feel empty. I feel like texting You on others. But I have more self respect now. I've grown to care about myself. You'd be proud. But I know this isn't the person You want or think You need.

I thought I could write a poem about it all but I just let it breath, like a wound.

Back to my grind