I can see you from here

Sometimes I wonder if our love ever existed
I thought you were the missing piece of my soul
But maybe you were the chaos

I used to bend my mind into thinking I’d be satisfied
Logically you were the smartest, cultured love I’ve always wanted
And with a past, and all the problems that came with it, just like mine
Our scars matched and the empty in our hearts some how filled the others
But maybe your soul just matched mine
A male version of my hell
You weren’t made to fulfill me at all
You were on another plane, in a different universe in the same story
An alternate view of my eternity
which is to be forever filled with voided love.

sunset beach night reflection
Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

Watch Your Step

I don’t talk to you because I don’t want to.

I didn’t stop caring, if anything I care more, you’re in my phone accessible.


I stopped because it wasn’t our time. I don’t know if we will ever have a “time”

So I wait, for the day I forget about all the possibilities I would’ve had with you. Or the day you say something my soul can’t ignore and I have to break hearts to be with you, or my own to never respond to you again.


“Welcome to the Jungle” these posts are about you.

All scattered throughout the time we’ve talked.

Nights we poured our hearts out. Nights we fought. Nights we were lonely and full of lust.


Read them all and if you feel the same let me know. If not, then disappear and leave me to heal.

When you miss me go back reread. If you never go back… then I’ll be happy knowing this thing we’ve created it’s complete.


A flawless plan never to take flight, filed away as an accomplishment to our hearts.

Notion

I miss you some times

When I need a reality check. Hopped up on happiness

When I feel alone.

When I have the feeling you’re feeling alone, or sad.


I wonder if I’m your longest spanning friendship or whatever we are, or am I one of the multitudes. I better at least have the best music taste.

You’re such a tool sometimes, one from Pandora’s box. Infinite wisdom sprouts out along with a slap in the face.


person hugging brown ukelele
Photo by Edward Castro on Pexels.com

Pending Biopsy

There was a time when I thought I had cancer. I felt alone and scared. I thought I was going to die.


E would spend more time without me than with me. Raised beyond my perception

I was mad, I didn’t try things or move from my stagnant place.

I was mad I was selfish and didn’t appreciate K for all that he did for me. Even though he didn’t know how to comfort me, it wasn’t his fault he had never had that role or stress.

I was mad at my mother, she had a lifetime to raise me, fuck me up and never say sorry. I barely had a third of that with E.

I was mad I did it all to myself, never eating right or trying, too stupid and lazy.

After anger came alienation


 

I cheated, throwing away love for lust. Rebranding myself as a object, disposable and cherished when used for a specific reason. It fulfilled my “never tried it” aspect I so wanted before I died.

Useless waste of time.

Broken men, with me as their cure. Pointless and addicting. They didn’t care I was sick, so long as I could press the send button.

I like to think K worried himself into a hole over me, and that’s why he was so distant.  But even if he ignored me and slept like a baby at night, it still wasn’t enough to deserve what I did to him.

Even whilst dying I’m a bitch…


After blowing up on my family over their delayed concern and suffocating empathy, cheating on the one man who truly loved me, and not even bothering to communicate with long time friends.

I just accepted it.

I made this note in my phone.

A game plan.

3 weeks later.. stage 0 and a indefinite 6 month check up tab on my chart.

img_20180105_163552.jpg