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@truly-original-content
Do you see me? I see you. You help me though the bad. You make the good better. Even when it’s ice cold outside, you keep me warm. I haven’t seen you much till recently. But you’ve helped push me through. You helped keep me above water, and sleep at night too. I always pay your expensive. Though you can be pricey too. I should probably leave you alone soon. Before you make me do something I wouldn’t normally do.
I think I’m doing better. More money. My own place. My own car. I can take my momma out. I can take my grandma out. I don’t even smoke no more. But am I really as good as I sound? I don’t smoke only because my job drug tests. I drink more than I’ve ever have before. I push everyone away in my life. I can’t seem to even do right. But I make more money. I’m still in school. I’m everyone’s rock. But I feel like a societal tool. I feel my void with meaningless things, cars, bikes, games, sex... whatever fills me for that moment. It doesn’t even seem real till I read these words before me. But it’s okay because I’ll never see these words again... Till my void has gotten big enough to engulf me.
Why am I back here... on this blog? I tend to find myself here when I’m searching in melancholy. Clawing at a breath of purpose. Some days I float just above the water, feeling a sense of enjoyment and meaning in life. Only to be reminded by days end all that I’ve done has been for nothing. I try, I swear I do to see the upside. I’m trying to follow my dreams... but I seem to smoke away all the pain that follows. I want to do what makes me happy, but at what cost? Why do I put myself through such shitty paces? Why don’t I just do right? Won’t that be so much easier? But instead I live day by day... hoping that tomorrow doesn’t come as fast as I know it will. I doubt myself when I should be my biggest motivator. I morn to find someone to love, but only attract what’s worse for me. Who can I blame, who shall I blame, why shall I blame? I’m waiting for the day when I open my eyes and realize what I’m worth and I stop falling prey to my own ridiculous bullshit. I want to need someone... someone to make me want to be a better person for them. I don’t have to do better for me.... I want to do better for her... one day... one fucking day.
I am at a point in life where I question everything that I thought I wanted. Whether or not I am good enough to achieve them. Whether or not I am able to achieve them. Whether or not I even deserve to achieve them. I wake up questioning if it is even worth getting out of bed. I wake up questioning what could the day possibly bring me. I wake up questioning if this what depression feels like. Some people don’t understand what I mean. And I hope you never do. I am at a point in life where I question... everything.
My mind reminds me of what I want to forget. I thought I lost you as time went on. But just a smell, sound, or taste brings you back. Back to me. Back in my arms. Surrounded by our love. But I know it is fake. It is all my imagination. The highs were the best but the lows were devastating. I wish my love for you was on a timeline. As if you were a Queen to my dynasty. Eventually your reign should end and be replaced by someone else. Yet you are still there. In the back of my mind. In a rampage of thoughts you somehow manage to spring forward and evoke such emotions that I feel nowhere else. I wish I could rip out the memories of you. Erase you from my mind. But I am afraid of what would become of me.
There are levels to me no one will understand. Not even me.
I want to love. But why? Why must I? I love myself, I know I do. I think. But I love the feeling of being loved. But isn’t it all temporary? After trust has been broken you wonder... is it possible. To love and be loved unconditionally seems so rare now. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve tried and tried. And came up empty. We give people our all who don’t deserve it. We withhold feelings to preserve friendships. When we truly love and lose. We lose ourselves. A piece of us breaks off and leaves with that person when they exit our lives. But how can I speak as a generalization? I’m just one person who’s lost a lot of faith. But I can love. I want to love. I want to trust. I want someone to love me as I do them. But I don’t know if I’m ready to lose a piece of myself again...
My loneliness breeds sadness, and my sadness breeds depression. I mask depression with anger. And I mask anger with fake smiles. I am a facade within myself. Constantly trying to find me. But where does me exist? Where does me become me? My facade has become so strong that I don’t even know me. How can someone say they know me... when I only know of me.
Why are we, as humans, so afraid to take risks? We are so afraid of making mistakes. We are so afraid of screwing up. We are so afraid that our dream could be the end of us. We sacrifice our passions for reality. ‘I want to be a painter’ turns into ‘I work a 9-5 I hate with absolution because I’m afraid of my dreams’. But how can I talk? I compromise everything I do with my emotions. I feel, as most do, as if I’m not good enough to reach my dreams. Which ends with me giving up. Me settling. Me not following...me. Me being a shell of who I want to be. A me that myself won’t recognize. I turn ‘me’ into ‘who’.
I don’t know what I want in life. And it strikes me ever so often.... I don’t now if I’m the only one. You go through life living in the moment till the moment catches up to you. Till you find yourself encompassed in all your thoughts. Till you find yourself alone. Till you find yourself questioning your existence, why you live, what drives you, what makes you.. you. Till you realize, surrounded by the people that you ‘love’ your living your life that you don’t know why your living. As I type this, my only hope is to feel some of my tension go. So I can continue with hope. Hope to finally find something...someone...it worth my life.
I don’t know if I’m alone in this thought. But if anyone else understands. You are not alone.
I think the scariest thing in life. Is not knowing what makes you happy.
Faded
The world begins vibrant
colors, shapes, and imagination
loom forever. Till age begins
and so does the end.
Red becomes black, blue
turns to gray, and green
turns white. Fruitful
trees begin to die
We live in a world
where our dreams die
young. And our
responsibilities grow old.
There comes an end to an era. As does they all. An era is never forever, hence why it’s called an era. I’m arguing within myself whether it was lust or sincere care. I wanted to like for her, but I wanted to like for me. I confuse myself, and she confuses me. It wasn’t the right time for anything, but does that mean I see her again? To excommunicate would bring forth dire consequences from others. Maybe I should speak in plain English. I fucked, I’m damn sure I liked, and now it has become nothing. I really don’t mean to overreact. But I’m not sure how to assimilate back into normal ways. Eh, maybe backing away is the best option. Maybe she may ask about me. Or maybe I done fucked everything up. Only time will tell. What’s the point of life if you have all the answers?
I go back and forth in my mind. Every time I see her, I know I want her to be mine. When I’m with her I get to be me. The oddish, stranger, and annoying me. I don’t know if she hasn't gotten tired of me yet or if she genuinely likes me. I sometimes catch myself staring, when she is close to me. Wondering how she can smell so good, be so smart, be so beautiful, and still seem to like me. It’s surreal, but at times I feel like I’m messing up. Does she want this? Am I moving too fast? Why does she not text back? I do not want to have communication issues, that’s what destroys people.I have questions, yes, but she’s so amazing when I get around her that they all melt away.
M.
Do you feel it while asleep?
the look I give you,
or how I listen to your heartbeat
Truly, I never want to wake you
but I long for that breath,
the breath that awakes you
How do you do it?
leave me with such envy,
when all you do is lay there
encompass me in such beauty
The hours pass and the time ticks
I feel you move, I see you kick
Your eyes open and I begin to see
You and I just turned into we
I don’t title my poems. I guess the idea never truly struck me. I just put pen/pencil/marker/rock/etc to a surface and begin writing. My inner me cultivates the tragic reasoning I tend to not say aloud and produces words. Those words are all my thoughts. Thoughts without names, titles, or spellcheck. My poetry is the me inside me escaping out. And I haven’t ever felt the need to title them. That isn’t the purpose of me writing.
Is she next? I don’t know. For the first time in a long time I’ve had to sit down and uncover my feelings. In between the dark sorrows of a soul that is me lies a decent person. You know the type of person you only are around certain people? I want to be that person with her. But will my ambitions fall short of her expectations? I do not know. I don’t want to pretend as if I’m perfect, I will be setting an obnoxious bar I shall only break with due time. It’s a glum reality to view, but I guess I shall see with time. Do I even deserve to be given a true chance..... I referred to her as ‘next’ as if she’s an object. I’m not going to change the wording though. It’ll only skim over the true meaning of my thoughts.