#feelings

the more you try to make sense of it
the more it slips away
feelings are a fickle thing
they barely go your way

Skinny Love

she liked her
that much she knew
the extent of it, well…
it’s like leaves with dew

she liked her too
but of course, she wouldn’t say
she’s afraid she’d reject her
or worse, far worse than she would dare say

it’s painfully obvious
their strings entangled by fate
it’s just, they’re too scared
and maybe, it’s too late

for she’d been forced to leave
as nature would have it
and she, forced to stay back
quarantined in her haven

oh such skinny love
of two pure, innocent souls
if things only were different,
two could have become one

Self-destruction

I owe it to myself to heal from my past. But, the sad thing is I don’t know if I want to.

It’s stupid, I know. No one wants to live with a fucked up brain full of fucked up memories of fucked up shit. But, I’m afraid I’d lose who I am if I get better. Is that crazy? Maybe.

So, I resort to hiding it away, acting like it’s not there; up until it’s relevant to bring up again. It being all the trauma and pain I’ve experienced all these years. And the demons? They never left. They’re still there, lurking in the shadows of my already dark and twisted mind, waiting for a time I slip up and accidentally let them wreak havoc again.

“Let them? What do you mean, let them?”

Isn’t it clear that I’m deranged? Isn’t it clear that I want to punish myself and destroy what’s left of my sanity? Isn’t it clear I’m not helping myself?

If not, well then. After reading this, I’m pretty sure it’s perfectly clear: I am the cause of my own destruction.