Lost and Searching

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Maladaptive

When I wake up in the morning,
I lie in bed for an hour,
Our maybe just a half
I close my eyes
And let my mind wander
I think
And I dream
Of you,
Or you,
Or maybe even you.
And in this time,
I am not alone
As long as my eyes are closed
I am not alone.

It hurts when I must
My eyes open
And reality seeps in
No longer can I hide
No longer am I loved
For you are not here
And my life,
Just as my bed,
Is empty
But for me

I would give
What little I have
For my dreams
To come real
If even for just an hour

I Wanted Something Pretty: An Almost Love Poem

Knee socks
And auburn locks,
A smile that gently mocks

A beautiful body,
Demure but naughty,
She shares it humbly

The beautiful nerd,
She knows every word,
To every movie I’ve heard

I would hold her close,
Kiss her on the nose,
And listen to her woes

Perfection in my eyes,
Believing all the lies,
Ignoring all it implies

When reality must invade,
All those thoughts I forbade
She is nothing like what I made

For in all reality,
Her and I would never be,
As there is no one left for me.

I just wanted something pretty,
Unadulterated and full of beauty,
But everything for me was broken and shitty.

 

 

I think that this is as close to a love song as I can get for now. No matter how I start it, it always comes back to being hurt. It shouldn’t be surprising, really. Every almost relationship I’ve ever had has ended in pain. I can’t seem to stop it unless I never start it, but the loneliness of that is worse than any hurt I have ever felt at the leaving of someone I cared for.

Although, starting is just as difficult. I have trouble going up to anyone. When I try to, I feel that I am offending them by even showing an interest, which says a lot about my self-esteem and how I view myself.

Blood and Doubt

Always on the outside,
Forever looking in.
Withholding who I am,
And holding it within.

Words press against my lips,
Like an insect in its shell.
Rotting in my mouth,
And condemning me to hell.

I cut myself open,
Hoping to let them out.
But all that comes forth,
Is blood and doubt.

I do not know my fate,
But I know it’s not with you.
So I search and dig for hope
Through my jaded world view.

Wondering, is pain all I have,
Or is there something more?
If this is all there is,
What do I hold onto it for?

I have to find the strength,
To overcome my fears,
To slay these demons,
To step past these tears.

For the hope of something more
Is greater than the pain of nothing left
So I struggle on
Heartbroken and bereft.

Dust in My Throat; Barbs in My Heart

Tendril heart

I know that I could love you
With the passion of a thousand poets
But I keep it all to myself

I would paint you a thousand pictures
Perfect and beautiful
To capture every part of you

I would write you a thousand love songs
Romantic and pure
To let you know you are loved

But all of my words turn to dust
Catching in my throat
And keeping the words from you

So I hold it all in,
Knowing that the joy of your presence
Is better than the pain of your denial

But my love is unrequited
Misplaced and hurting
Poisoning everything between us

Because you cannot do the same
I will always love you more
Than you will ever like me

One thing I have realized lately is that while I do not bond easily with people, the bonds I do develop are very deep. I don’t get into friendships (or more) easily, but when I do I go all the way in. So when I develop a crush, it is very strong. Thus, if it has to end, it is very painful. I have to dig out a very deep and sensitive tendril that burrowed deep into my heart and there is nothing but pain in it. After a while, the majority of it is out and I’m just left trying to excise the little bits that shot off from the main tendril and dug in deeper than the rest. Sometimes they’ll wriggle and painfully let me know they’re still there. Other times, I’ll come across one and see its atrophy and remove it painlessly.

But, no matter how hard I try, each and every one of them left at least a single barb in there that I can’t get at. It’s in the deepest parts of my heart. The section I can’t cut into without destroying intrinsic parts of myself. So, they’ll always be there; occasionally reminding me of each of your faces, your smiles, and your names. Because no matter how much I hurt afterwards, I did love you for a time and I cannot forget that.

 

My Maleficent Protector

I torture myself with every word
Those said and those unspoken
Looking for the meaning behind them
Laying myself open to their truth

I bathe myself in it
Seeking those things that hurt
Just so that I can feel
Just to avoid the emptiness

Numb for years and years
Looking for solace in anything
I cut myself upon the words
Seeking respite in the pain

I hold it close to my heart
Seething and burning
Worn like a cursed saint
My maleficent protector

When there is nothing but pain
The violence escalates
Feeding on itself
And breeding its filth

Corroding and consuming
Eradicating and extirpating
Destroying everything it touches
Until I am empty again

Where once I found perverted solace
There is abject nothingness
And the cycle ends
Waiting to begin again

 

I would give it all to you
If I thought you could handle it
If I thought you could survive
But you are not my salvation

 

 

I never asked for any of this
I just wanted to be normal
Instead I found comfort in pain
And gave it everything I was

 

 

 

I do not seek your ruin
The way you seek mine
I’ll destroy myself soon enough
With your help or without

 

 

 

 

Do I go on
Or does it end here
Where do I find the will
To choose one or the other