this is how we move along

with a gasp and a swallow
and enough stress to kill a mouse
i tip toe towards your arms
away from his puppeteer strings
and then i'm lost, but in the meantime
all i want are your arms now
and this is how we move along

happies

You know how
To make me smile
The things to do
That make me happy
But you don’t do
These things
No more
Apparently
It’s just
Too hard

The dahlia
Or opened door
It doesn’t matter
Anymore
You don’t feel
Like this will do
It must be me
That isn’t working

Oh my romance
Oh my sweet love
You chose goodbye
Over trying
Now twice as sad
I bid farewell
I fear I’ll always
Be unhappy

hardly, moving

at least i know now
we just didn't work
at least it wasn't
another heavy blow
but i'm hardly moving anyways
cus you weren't my lover
but you were my companion
and i always feel like
i'll end up forgotten

experimentation

i am a guarded person. i am afraid of people knowing me, and put up a hard exterior.

i woke up this morning and told myself i wasn't going to do this, see if it affected the way people responded to me. test subject: someone who had experienced the full throes of my guardedness.

aside from the heatstroke, it went well. i think i'm going to try to keep this up for a while. maybe the consequences will be someone that doesn't have to wait a year to get to know me.

I don’t have an addictive personality.

(I mean, I definitely hovered dangerously on the alcoholic line, but I feel like I got over it before it got me too hard.)

What I have is a history of poor decisions, and weak decisions, and retracted decisions. It’s my dark underbelly, under the intimidating façade I wear. It’s the reason my sister can call me and talk about a hippy ceremony of burning sage to let things go and make me cry at work in my office at 12:40 in the afternoon. It’s the reason why I can’t get out of bed, and the reason why I’ve been hiding from my friends and my potential friends for so long.

The fact that I’m intimidating kindof blows my mind. I can’t figure out how it started, though it’s probably some residual leftover of trying to not care that people made fun of me growing up. It seems like a cruel turn of events that the guard I built up to make it so I could handle people making fun of me is why people hate me. Not because I do mean things, or act out against them, but because I don’t react, or react too logically, or whatever. And people do hate me. They “unfriend” me on Facebook. They threaten me with hammers or contact my boyfriend’s exes to form an allegiance against me. They accuse me of making excuses all the time or of ruining people they know. They tell me they’d rather be with their other friends, because I’ll always be there, or because I’m not fun enough.

(Note: sometimes I am mean, and push people’s buttons, or lie, or tease. I’m not pretending I’m perfect here, but I don’t think it explains the hating phenomenon.)

I do make excuses all the time, though. I’ve burned a lot of bridges with my passivity. I’ve wasted a lot of time by not being honest with myself and others. I’ve wasted a lot of time avoiding the things I am honest with myself and others about.

Worse, most people don’t even bother hating me. I’m just an obstacle in their way of getting to what they want. What I have to say is what they have to listen to before they can talk. So I don’t talk to many people.

My sister says that my image of myself is awful, that my low self esteem and poor confidence is unfounded and bordering on dismorphism. But I do feel fat, and I do feel unattractive, and like people don’t like me and couldn’t like me and wouldn’t like me, and I am tired, and many people do make me feel awful about myself.

I just always end up alone in my dreams. Alone, on a stormy seaside, with a large bright kitchen and a cat. But at least in my dreams I’m content.

i was vulnerable once.

if i'd known you then, maybe things would be different. i could say things like, "i love the way you make me laugh," or admit that i'd try to remember what your lips feel like through the day--i still do, even though now i'm not supposed to.

a woman told me yesterday not to fall in love with someone you don't know, because even though adrenaline is amazing, it wears you down and leaves you bruised.

i don't feel particularly eloquent right now. i'm sad, i'm stuck, i'm not sure if i'm in love, but i'm really not sure what i'm doing. i need a nap.

once again

i felt your hand, familiar
as it slid around my waist
i recognized the lines that i helped
paint across your face
i let you treat me badly
i let you misbehave
i kissed your lips as if the pressing
kissed the hurt away

i loved and i love
but i want to grow up
i don't want to live in
this never never land
my love deserves
conditions
the longer i see you
the more i want to go

we've reaped what we've sown, we've stumbled home
we've seen some wondrous days
i held your hand through some stormy storms
but i must be on my way
you let me treat you badly
you let me misbehave
you kissed my lips as if the pressing
kissed the hurt away

i loved and i love
but i can’t fix this up
i don’t want to live in
this endless feedback loop
my love deserves
conditions
and there will be
other people to love