Illusory Newness

Imagine, life as you know it suddenly changes, for the better, and you are left wondering why?

Sometimes I ask myself why certain people walk into my life, why God even put them in my life.

“I don’t deserve them”- at least that is what I used to think.

I stopped asking myself why someone would even give me the time of day. Why they would entertain my emotions? I figured they would eventually leave my emotions to flicker away like the sun does at dusk. But I realize, I was wrong all along.

I used to think that I deserved everything that came to me, the horrid and the good. But I don’t, in fact, sometimes pretentious bastards of people hurt you for no reason. It made me develop a tough skin and an intolerance for things I did not want.

But then there are the good parts. The parts that make me so utterly happy that I have to pinch myself to make sure it isn’t all an illusion, but actually reality. There is this flicker in my eyes, a glimmer of flame that I swear won’t be extinguished easily. I am so, complete. But not because of the normal reasons, but because there is this feeling of connection, of an equal.

I don’t even have to utter a name for you to think about him, do I?

I am feeling a high I don’t want to end, one I don’t want to come down from.

Sometimes it’s the goodbyes that get ya

Abandonment, it’s like this deeply rooted fear nestled within my soul.  All I fear in relationships,  with my life, is this abandonment.

For some, this is intentional, malicious and so cynical that not even satan himself would engrave his name upon it.

Others strictly unintended,  meant only to follow walks of life.

Why am I so afraid of being abandoned, not finding anything because I either push it away,  or it pushes itself far away from me, and quickly.

It’s almost as if,  well,  it’s me who causes this.

“I have too much caring for my own good” they say. That I am too much and should dial it back.

Maybe to avoid being abandoned by anyone, I just keep to myself and have no one.

Even though I have everyone, someone always leaves, and never looks back.


Deeply Rooted

There was pity laced within your words as I sat listening intently to a conversation I knew would only make my heart beat faster with each passing minute.

I wanted to let it go, never say hello or let the jokes come back, but something in me still sees it all. I see…everything.

But I am not one to be pitiable, not even for another minute. My words are my weapons, frankly, my heart is the reason my body has something to protect.

The beatings, the hurt, I always feel it, the existence needs to cease, while somehow I still need to find a way to make that deeply rooted feeling die.


My Monster

I was okay, until I realized that my monster was not longer locked behind her iron clad bars of a cell.

I was always afraid of her, terrified she would consume me from the inside out, that eventually.. I wouldn’t be able to contain the thoughts running rampant in my head, that she would find her way to take me down to the deepest pits of hell, where I would never return.

But then if I let her consume me, the person on the outside my change into a girl the inside would recognize. The body would no longer be just a host, the real girl would slink out from the shadows and present herself.

She is a demon though, snarling about and supplied a type of feeling that made my insides twist and turn in the most distorted fashion. Wanting desperately to shed the skin of a ghost, a wraith, but I couldn’t.

I’m craving it, needed it to be just one step closer to better and a few steps farther from breaking.

Each day seems like a daze to the rest, and all I can do is muster up enough gumption to get myself out of bed and change into something besides the over baggy sweats that hide my small curves, and the over sized sweatshirts that hide the small of my chest and the bones beneath my skin..all I can do is hide beneath my own skin.

My Monster, before I knew her my life was just fine, I was innocent, after I met her, I realized that I had experiences and life to live, but in a way that I was a ghost in a body of a girl I used to know.

Maybe now if she just consumes the ghost, I won’t have to worry anymore.

She took a Sabbatical…momentarily

My Monster left me, suddenly, then all at once, let me feel a shred of happiness and less on the verge of lacing my veins with ink and watching the red pool beneath me.

Then she pounced, let me feel like I might just be okay, slightly, she knew I would get comfortable with her gone, but then that’s what she wanted.

The medicine seemed to suppress her, but then sometimes I forget to take it…maybe on purpose, maybe because I miss her.

Desperately I want to expunge her nagging claws, but I can’t seem to bring myself to. She used to be so quiet, so different, now her vengeance runs thick through my veins, pumps each time like blood.

She knows all my deepest secrets, my deepest fears and now she can’t stop, my monster was gone..



my veins run thick with this poisonous liquid, one final drop might send me into a tailspin of intoxication.

this madness flows beneath, threatening to break the surface of my skin, the bottom of the bottle is close at hand.

at this point in my life, I shouldn’t know you as well as I do. One bottle and the memories come flooding back, the hurt agonizing, new pain cascades down my spine, causing pain wherever it pauses.

I feel at a disadvantage, a loss, defeat runs through my body, I’m almost at my breaking point.

tears prick my eyes, but they only sting, never cusp over the barrier, never grace my cheeks.

sometimes, I wish it was all a lie, a false accusation, deceit.

but your liquid is my drug, and my restraint. I am trapped, and the only thing to release me from this is a painful memory of what I used to be, and what I will never become again.


sobriety laced with hints of poison, tantalizing bits of liquid flow down my throat, felt deep within the confines of my chest.

they say drunk words are sober thoughts. how might something occur in a reserved, guarded woman?

words are hard to believe when actions fail to back them up. you are see through and when you were finally silent, I felt the pit grow.

cloaked under a veil of promise, everything slowly cracks under the pressure. and with each passing day, another crack is chipped at, making new ones over and over.

there isn’t a way out of inebriation, even praying that sobriety takes over, it’s impossible, for it was laced with something so intoxicating, it makes it impossible to ever refuse, let alone let go.