Just Breathe.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Just breathe and the moment will pass. Breathe in all the light, exhale all the dark. I am watching everyone see right through me. Looking through my insides and making me feel small. Because small is what makes everyone feel grand and larger than life. I watch the people surround me, turn into giant monsters of their former selves. Piercing my skin that hides my insides. I can’t take it anymore. Pushing the feelings away and save them for another day. Any other day but today. My chest feels heavier than normal. My heart feels more than it should. The more I breathe in, the faster I see myself exhale. It will all be okay, I am going to be okay.

Breathe.

No matter how many times I tell myself this will pass, it just intensifies even more. I feel it in my bones and straight to my soul. In these moments, I want to say everything I feel inside. Tell everyone, I am not the crazy one. I am not crazy, I feel a little out of it, but I am okay. I sit in silence and wait for this all to pass. A wave of emotions just washes over me. This tsunami of emotions that suffocates my breathing. I am afraid and the fear paralyzes me. Afraid of the risk of bursting out every single one of my feelings that I keep bottled up inside myself. Everyone can see right through me. My demeanor is crystal clear and everyone is looking inside of me. Maybe they are right. I should give up all these ghosts and make myself feel fine. Yet the good days turn to bad days and I can’t help but see smoke. I’m burning up on the inside. Everyone sees it. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep myself together. I am slowly falling apart with every thought I get. My lungs are closing in and I can’t breathe.

It happens to the best of us. Even people that you’d never expect it to happen to. I’ll smile real big and pretty, if it will make you feel better. I’ll tell you what you want to hear. Because breathing never gets easier. Even I know that.

7/4/2015

Cigarettes & Coffee.

I miss smoking and I know I shouldn’t.

Before I get a million lectures on the subject, let me say it out in the open, I miss it. I miss the ritual of it. The lighting, the inhaling and the slow exhaling. I miss the solidarity of the moment. How you could be surrounded by hundreds of people, but when you needed an escape the cigarette was your alibi. It relaxed you and calmed the shakes that trembled from your chest to your fingertips. The moment you tapped your first pack and took off its wrapper, it opened something inside of you. The smells of tobacco and the memories a smell holds with it. This familiarity that something so bad could make the worries of the moments disappear.

Inhale, exhale.

I disappeared in every smokey haze. Hiding from the world without a moments notice. The countless conversations I reasoned with myself with every puff I gave. Its something I never got with breathing. A sensation that never felt obtainable with just the air in my lungs. I loved it, then hated it. I denied it, then craved it. Something to take the edge of life, off of my hands. I could disappear in this cloudy, smokey, haze. Disappear into the smoke, where no one would find me. Have a moment with myself that I could never get with the open air and clear views.

I miss cigarettes like I miss conversations. Because all the meaningful conversations happen outside at night around 1 am, with the street lights illuminating your smoke. Your mouth slowly forming words and phrases. I miss that. This smell that stuck to every inch of your skin and lingered over all your overcoats. Breathing in the cold air and flowing inside every inch of your lungs. I felt it like a breaking heart, like a sad song with an upsetting melody. My body craves it on the dark days when I have nothing left to say. But it’s bad. It’s all bad for me. The ash, the smoke and the light that burns until I have nothing left.

I feel stuck. Finding something to take away the craving. Locating the thing I can sit with to find a single word of conversation. I could stare into the bottom of every cup of coffee. I could sit and stare for hours at the water that dyes every inside of every cup. I feel nothing, I crave something more. After ever last drop of coffee, nothing gives you satisfaction as that last drag of a cigarette.

God, I miss it. I miss it.

1/3/2015

Closer.

Don’t come any closer.

Don’t treat me like the others. I know all the things you only tell girls in the dark. I know every single one of your deep dark secrets and everything you want us to believe. You’ll deny it. Tell me, I am the crazy one. I know you never mean it. Everything you say is just actions from your reactions. You never mean all the nasty things you say. A sorry from you are just words wasting space in my memory. “I’m sorry” sounds like a tragic song that has no ending. I want to believe you, believe me I do, because deep down you mean it. Its what you tell all the other girls. All the other girls that believe you when you cry and mean every word you say.

Don’t say another word.

I could recite your lines, word for word. These never ending monologues of right and wrong, saint and savior. Every single thing you tell girls in the dark. It would only be fair if I told everyone how you felt. Told them all your secrets and spilled out all your lies. All those things you only tell girls in the dark. Hurting you would show that maybe for once you could feel something other than nothing.  Something other than the hatred that you bring out of everyone.

Don’t touch me.

You crave the warmth of a body to lay beside you. It doesn’t matter who it is. Someone to fill the void of being alone with your thoughts and your cold black heart. You can never be alone. It paralyzes you to think of spending all these waking days alone. Keeping us under lock and key and heavy retainer. Break in case of emergency. Have I said too much? Or should I just keep going.

Telling all these secrets to people that think they know you. They’ll be next and what follows is someone after. There’s always someone else. Brighter, better, and stronger. Always someone else. A line of pretty girls that you only like in the dark. I won’t be one of them. Not tonight, not ever.

2/11/2007

 

Mean.

Anger has a way of eating away at your insides when you’ve been hurt. It cuts away at every positive vibe you’re feeling. Taking away every civilized thought you could possibly think of. The more it boils inside of you, the more upset you become. You start picking up your ammo, ready to fire your shots with every possible thought you could ever think of. Because I know all your secrets and I see through all your lies. I know everything about you to use everything against you.

I could cut you down to size, if I wanted to. I could spew out every ill will feeling, if I wanted to. I could hurt you with just 4 words that would spin your whole head around, if I wanted to. Because I know every deep dark secret. I know everything that nobody else knows. I could hurt you and watch your world crumble to the ground, if I wanted too. You’ve lead me no choice but to hurt you as you have done to me. Point out all your flaws and break your heart into two. Words can be just words, but even words can cut you to the core. Words can find a way to hurt you without drawing out your fists. Hurting you would show your weakness and pain, and trust me I want to hurt you. Hurting you would show you how it feels to be me.

None of that would make me feel better, it would only make everything feel worse. I once believed that to defend yourself, you had to hurt somebody. Hurt somebody that they felt it deep down to the core. All I’ve ever wanted was to show people how much they have hurt me. To show them that words aren’t always just words. Words are the ammo that they shoot out to their targets and rip them apart. When people hurt they do everything in their power to harness that hurt onto anyone they come across. Everyone is the enemy when you’re hurt. To justify the pain, you hurt everyone that you come in contact with. Innocent bystanders have no chance against you in your quest to express your pain. Its the pain your want to get rid of, the pain thats eating away at your soul.

I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to hurt. As much as it pains me to be this hurt, I can’t push this emotion on someone else. I know all your secrets. I know all your lies. I know everything that can hurt you and make you stop in your tracks. But I won’t use that against you. I won’t allow myself to stoop down at your level. Because eventually your pain will be your downfall. Eventually everything that you spew out to hurt people, will one day come back to haunt you. No one deserves this pain, not even you. But I won’t use this hurt as ammo to shoot at you. I won’t use this pain as a blueprint to destroy you. Instead I will overcome all this pain and manifest it into something else. You can’t hurt me anymore and one day you will give up the ghost of all this pain. Being mean doesn’t solve anything, it only makes you into a monster of yourself. You’re better than that.

I won’t hurt you with words. I won’t hurt you at all. Instead I’ll live inside this hurt and find a way to love. Because love is bigger than any mean ill feeling you could ever think of. I am bigger than this, just wish you could be too.

8/23/2010

In the lonely hour.

I lie awake between when the hours turn from PM to AM, thinking, wondering, pondering, inviting. All these thoughts in all their splendored glory. These images of reality mixed in with make believe. Heroes, saints, villains and sinners, everywhere and in-between. When you feel that hope has lost, you reach out for a connection. Reach out to feel something, anything from this wretched feeling that you have consumed yourself with. It aches in your soul straight through to your heart. From the moment you tap your fingertips against your chest, waiting for something to revive you from this feeling.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, That we all go through

There are things you do when you’re lonely that you would never do with a sane mind. Your mind and judgement turn off, you roam the world as an insane person would. You enclose yourself to all this loneliness. Believing the wrong people, trusting the sinners, and knowing very well that every last bit of this is wrong. Its this hurt that is eating up your insides. This sickening pain that you want to drown out to feel whole again. You trust these people because you have nothing left to give. At any given moment, someone will come save your from yourself. Save you from these feelings that you’ve become so clouded with. These illusions that letting the right one in would be your salvation. Bring forth the one person that will save me from this loneliness. Bring forth the person that will in turn save me from myself.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, I need you

All it takes is one person to save us from ourselves. One person to turn all the dark clouds into sunlight that illuminates our path to salvation. We all need a little help sometimes. One person to dry the tears and sweep us off our feet. We believe in words before we believe in actions. All it takes is 3 words and 8 letters to bring you back to life. 3 words and 8 letters to show that you mean something to someone. You could take everything away from my life. Take away all the material things. Take away all the glamour of this life. The only thing that I want in this life is someone to take away all this loneliness. All I need is you, not someone like you.

When there’s a wistful silence, In an empty room,
These other voice’s, They don’t cut through,
In the lonely hour, I need you

I’ve spent nights believing in this knight that would come and save me from myself. That would wipe away the tears from the lovers prior and erase all the scars from my own self destruction. I’ve waited and in return let these legions of broken people consume my time and affection. It’s not love because love wouldn’t hurt this much. Love wouldn’t allow this feeling to continue to last. I just need this pain to stop this hurt inside my heart. Stop this ache that I feel in my chest, deep down to my soul. I can’t keep reaching out to a person that doesn’t exist. Realizing that I don’t need anyone to save me from myself. I just need to rely on me. In this lonely hour, I can’t help myself. In the lonely hour, I need you.

I need you.

6/14/2011

Me without You.

There’s no me without you.

I thought about you today for the first time in years. Distance doesn’t make up the years. Silence doesn’t forgive the tears. Still I thought about you for the first time in years. Endings are never sweet and I still feel something missing. Some things were left unsaid in the mess of here and there. All I want to do is reach out  and talk to you. Say everything I’ve always wanted to say. Even when I am hurting, I still want you around. Because you understood me better than I ever understood myself.

For the first time in years, I thought about the past. Thought about us and the memories that rang louder than any sound. When you miss someone, you imagine them trapped in a time where everything was beautiful. Even the years don’t make up for everything that came after. If things had been different, would it have mattered anyway? Here and now, everything in-between. Days have been passing, everything has been changing and I still wonder about you. Remembering you is looking back to the past, when I should be looking forward toward the future. Some days I still want you around, and I can’t help but think of all the mistakes that sunk this ship.

Everything happens for a reason. Even memories pinpoint the moments where everything went wrong. I can’t lie when I say I don’t miss you. I miss believing that at one point there was no me without you, but even people change. Every day we are growing farther and farther away from the past. What held us together for so long, eventually broke us apart. I am afraid of what comes after. Afraid of losing the thread that held these memories together. But I need this happen. To let you go and the memories that come with you. We can’t hurt, what we don’t see anymore. We can’t believe in people, if they no longer exist to us. The memories are all we have left that connect us to each other. Even memories lie and I can’t lie any longer.

There was no me without you. Slowly I am learning that without you, I can just be me. It hurts to miss you and even on the darkest days, I still want you around. I had to grow up to live without you. I had to grow up to see what I could be without you. I had to disappear to show that I could be me without you. Even on the darkest days, I still want you around but I don’t need you. I need the memories to keep me together, but as days go on, I don’t need you. In the end I only needed myself to get out of this pain, I needed to find myself and grow up from this. I do miss you but I missed who I was before you. Now I can finally be who I want to be.

There was no me without you. Now I know I can be just fine.

2/19/2014

 

Shark in the Water.

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I have a dent in my armor. It allows me to put all my emotions out in the open and wear my heart on my sleeve. Sometimes being so strong, doesn’t make me feel strength. When life happens around me, sometimes I am afraid to break. But breaking doesn’t constitute into weakness, no sir. Every now and then, we need a little meltdown to feel human again.  Saying everything we feel inside helps us deal with the emotions we keep so heavily guarded in our heart.

People don’t believe me when I say I hurting. After a while people start thinking it’s a call for attention, instead of cry for help. We could all stand tall but feel delicate, that at any given moment we could break. My heart breaks a million times a day, for a million different reasons but I keep that from everyone. Because saying how I really feel, no one would believe me. Telling all my secrets to people will only allow myself to feel judged instead of vindicated. Everything hurts inside. Everything can trigger a moment of weakness and out come the waterworks. I am suppose to stay strong. I am suppose to stay composed and not allow the world to worry. Saying how I feel sounds like I am complaining, but reality is I can’t keep things in my heart no more. Keeping things inside only adds to the fire of sadness that only breaks my heart. Things happen to everyone, some worse than others but I can’t help if my mind feels that this is the worst that could happen. I can’t explain to you how it feels on the inside without coming off as powerless and weak. I am suppose to let the light in and pay no attention to the dark. I am suppose to go into life without fears or sadness.

This sickness consumes me and turns me into someone I can’t remember. It pierces through my bloodstream and takes away all the things I have worked for. It only takes a minute to fall back to zero. It only takes a minute to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. Don’t you think I hate myself for feeling this way? Don’t you think that I want to be happy, instead of on the brink of a mental breakdown? Who are we to judge a person for their feelings, when we haven’t walked a mile in their shoes? No matter how much you think you know a person, there are things they keep from everyone. Truth is sometimes I want to die. There are days I feel as I am not good enough for this world. That my past finds a way to haunt me. It takes me longer to wake up, because waking up means I haven’t left this life. And I hurt, and I hurt, and I can’t explain where all this hurt comes from. But I sit and watch people look toward me and believe I have failed them. When reality is I have failed myself countless times. Because I hurt when I’m suppose to feel joy. I cry when I am suppose to be happy. I claw at my skin trapped in this body that I desperately want to get out of.

My heart beats just the same as yours. My dreams are just as big as yours. Sometimes things hurt when they’re not suppose to. Sometimes people say things and it weights heavily in my heart. Sometimes I alienate myself from people, so they won’t know how terrible I feel about myself. I breathe in deep to suffocate the madness I feel inside me. I breathe out all the darkness I keep inside of me. I can’t run away from sadness. I can’t pretend that sadness doesn’t exist or that it doesn’t fit in with my life. Because sadness is there and to most of us it will always be there. We just know how to hide it behind a smile, a joke, and a laugh. I will feel better eventually, even bad days have a silver lining. If I can’t be okay for you, at least I’ll be okay for me.

But everyone circles around me like sharks in the water. Asking me why I swam so far from shore. Truth is I am hurting, if you could just lead me back to shore.

11/9/2010

Someone else.

We all want what we can’t have. People that don’t deserve us. People that we don’t deserve. Anyone, anything, and all of the above. If I could be anyone else, I would. Anyone then what you see before you. Even good people want to be bad. Good people want all the characteristics of a good time. Tracing our fingertips on the brink of madness. Wanting to take away all our sadness. Anything with anyone different then what we are used too.

I hear music when I should be hearing you. Listening to the sounds take over the words that come out of your mouth. Even if I see you, I always want someone else. Even if you give me everything I want, I want something more. And I don’t deserve any of it. I am pretending to be what you want me to be, because even you want something you can’t forget. I don’t want you, for I am always pretending you’re someone else. Someone that can take me away from this lonely sense of feeling. Become the music that drags me out of my body and beats into my soul. You’ll always be someone else, someone that I would rather see. Someone that I could spend all these lonely nights and take away this aching pain.

You’re the distraction that gives me what I want, when I want it. Even in the nights when I am reaching out to you, its someone else I am reaching out to touch. We all want what we can’t have. We all pretend to be people we want to who ever will see us. If you want me to pretend to be someone else, I will. Because being someone else is easier than being who I really am. Because deep down I am rotten, deep down I am broken but with you, I can be who ever you want me to be. You don’t see me, you only see what I want you to see. Someone else that makes you feel free. Someone that fills the space until you get everything you want, from everyone you want.

You don’t really want me. You want this illusion of me. This belief that one day you could learn to love me. Hear my words and fall in love all over again. It’s never me you want. That is never who I am. What you want and what you have, are never the same thing. Because I want someone and settle for you. I want something and pretend with you. But even I can play that game too. Everybody wants everybody else. You want me as much as I think I need you. I never need you. I’ll always be wanting someone else.

4/11/2011

 

Goodnight, Bad Morning.

Goodnight, another bad morning. 

There was something peaceful about watching you sleep. Knowing that for once you would have nothing to say. Keeping everything inside, when in turn you would die to tell everyone. Inside where no one not even I would hear. Moments like these don’t last forever. Eventually that moment between night and day, we are bound to wake up from. At this point I didn’t care about anything. Not this time, not at this moment. Not the feelings, not the honesty about these reactions. I don’t think I ever slept for fear of waking up and knowing you’d be gone. Gone to reality. Gone to someone else. Gone to the person you were in the daylight.

For those moments when you slept, I loved you so much that my body ached. I loved you so much that it hurt my head. I knew this couldn’t last forever. Doing all these wrongs, never made a right. The morning would wake us and back to the carriages that were already turned into pumpkins. Back to the terrible reality that awaits us. Back to the doors to our souls we close so tightly behind our hearts. But when the night skies fight with the daylight thats when I loved you best. Thats when I felt everything and in turn said nothing. Maybe I was always dreaming. Waking up never felt as good as this moment. I could love you forever if I wanted to. I just don’t think I can. I don’t ever want to wake up.

Doing all these bad things, never made me feel good. Wanting you now, never changed who you were when we woke up. Even good nights have bad mornings. Even you will wake up to be as rotten as the rest. But that moment where the night fights with the daylight, is when I always loved you best. When my body ached from my head to my toes. When no matter how many times I cried out to you, you stayed right where you were. The only times I could have you is when the night would fight with the light. I know I have to wake up from this. I know I have to wake up to who you really are. We are the most terrible people in the most perfect lighting. But at this moment, this current state, even terrible people can sometimes be beautiful too.

What a beautiful state we’re in. 

3/16/2007