I’ll lay my body next to yours, see if you notice the necessity of your warmth.
I’ll hold still while you wrap your arms around my waist, hold my breath.
I’ll bite my tongue just to let you spill honey filled words of love.
I’ll kill of, for a moment, the scared little girl who’s afraid to love you back.
I will lay bare for you.
You can have my laughs as you make another silly joke.
You can have my silence as you unleash your frustration to me.
You can have my mouth, whenever you want to taste full devotion.
You can have my body as we learn the feeling of loyalty.
You can have my heart and watch me seek trust.
I am bare for you.
I’ll cry alone just to feel you holding me to put back my pieces together.
I’ll quite down the crazy thoughts with your daily affirmations of me.
I’ll fight you when I am wrong as you teach me to laugh it off.
I’ll say sarcastic remarks to push you away only to find that you and I are just the same.
I stand bare in front of you.
Today I lost my future to the past
Many days go by me now, very unnoticed, very somber. I’ve come to the point of just accepting what is and allowing it to unfold how it was supposed to do naturally. Which makes me wonder were is the old me? The one that fought tooth and nail to make it do otherwise when it was no longer pleasant or right? What happened to saying “no”.
I lay in bed many nights, feeling restless and unsettled. Feeling life pass me by with new notions of right and wrong, with new ways to hurt, and with many evidences of life. I am still stuck on a moment, on a word, on a song that you had dedicated to me. You and many more that have impacted my life as I have traveled by leaving remnants of my existence alongside your path.
I have been in touch with my past life, the one were I felt alive and I felt joy. The one without a care in the world, the one that I pictured more magical than it actually was. I tend to make it seem better, make it more convincing to myself that I was just fine. I have never been fine and will I ever be is a constant reminder of what is not. My soul has become aged and it has reversed and grown young again. My mind over matter is refined and I don’t know how to deal with adult consequences or responsibilities.
I yearn for nothingness. I hope for losses of innocence so that you to can dwell with the reality of our realm. I dream of letting go and swimming into a dark abyss. I pray for light to spark my bottomless mind and ignite the flame that links with happiness and dear lord, I beg of you, let me in. Let me in again.
Hypocrite, because how can you defend someone who has left you out on the dirt yet claim you don’t associate or care for people of the sorts.
Hypocrite, because you’ve talked horrible hateful word against my family but you can’t bear the word of truth against yours.
Hypocrite, because you defend someone who is fake but you claim to hate fakeness.
Hypocrite, because you let one person dictate the very starts of your contradicting statements.
Hypocrite, we all are but yet, you defend yourself so highly but don’t realize that your mouth says otherwise and I continue to question you because you put yourself in that position. So blinded by the manipulation of one person, its upsetting and disappointing and I can feel it in my bones, this will be our very end.
Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again
Thursday morning we received word that my grandmother had passed away in El Salvador. I don’t think I could be any more hurt, I saw my father cry in frustration. He never said goodbye, he never saw her again for years, he never called her.
Later that morning, I was driving back home and on the radio the man speaking cracks, he’s crying and stuttering and he announces that Chester Bennington has committed suicide, he hung himself in his home in Palos Verdes, Ca.
The singer of Linkin Park has left this world and somehow, this caused more angst. I cried for my grandmother and I cried for Chester. Both suffered battles that we couldn’t begin to understand. Both died and left such an impact in my world. I felt such a void, like things were changing and things would never be the same.
Expectation : a belief that someone will or should achieve something
I am expected to be a certain way.
I am expected to act like a trophy wife.
I am expected to be a house maid.
I am expected to be classy at all times.
I am expected to be discreet.
I am expected to say yes all the time.
I am expected to change for the sake of someone else’s comfort.
I am expected to always be on time.
I am expected to bite my tongue.
I am expected to bow down to the all mightiest of the house.
I am expected to be someone who I am not just because you are not happy.
What about my expectations? What about my feelings, my requirements, my standards and morals?
What about the fact that I feel suffocated and trapped everytime I have to just pretend that didn’t hurt or that the simple truth is that you are wrong?
What about the fact that everyone expects and apology from I and never gives one in return to all the pain and mental suffering you cause?
What about the fact that I pull myself apart to run around doing everything they ask of me every single one of you and no one helps me out or considers how they make me feel about all these things that are just plain selfish of all of you to expect?
What about the fact that your expectations had led me to cry quietly in the shower and day dream about hurting me just to feel something other than anguish…
Many hello’s to all near and far. I’ve got to admit that writing has been a distant friend of mine for a couple of months now and I do not know if it is the lack of inspiration or the lack of will that has kept me so quiet. Then again, I’ve been pretty quiet in a lot of situations lately. I know my post are always so up and down, from one extreme to the other. In reality that’s not even how I am, but, the situations in real life tend to make me react this way.
Lately, I feel voiceless. Like no matter how carefully I choose my words, no matter how much thought I put into them, they never come out because they won’t be heard nor understood. I feel like the things I need to say to save my soul are not allowed. I feel unhappy. Lately, depression has hit me so harshly and not in the I cry myself to sleep kind or every song makes me sorrowful, but just in the way that it leaves you tired and the endless questions your mind has for the people involved are just always there.
No I have not cried. I have not sang. And this is my first writing in such a long time and even reading this back to myself I feel chaotic and confused. The constant unhappiness I feel about a lot of things and situations that feel unresolved plague me and the sad thing is that I do not feel safe in speaking of them to anyone because the people I love do not understand how I feel or how to react and I am scared of another fight.
I am unhappy.