TRIGGER WARNING.
There is always something that eats away at me when I think of you. Feelings flood into me like a summer rain. Is this enough? What am I supposed to say? Is this going to be right? What if I say the wrong things? I am inadequate, to you and others. As I used to preach self-love, confidence. I thought it didn't matter what people said or thought because I was living for me. Pushing the reactions of words lurching from stranger's throats down to the very pit of my stomach. The pit was never deep enough. Filled with chips and dips, sweet cakes, sodas. C'MON, I'M THIRSTY OVER HERE. There was no more room for feelings.
Comforts are not a
strength I have within me. I spit out words of hatred and violence, because as
before- I do not practice what I preach.
"Problematic" humor and silence hiding everything that may
lurk inside of me. I do not know myself. How am I supposed to be ready to love
if I am not ready to break the barrier within me?
I am so sorry. I am
disappointing you. That emptiness in your own stomach matches your self esteem,
I'm sure of it. Scientifically, that emptiness in your stomach will not mean an
emptiness in your waist line. How am I supposed to help? Someone who eats like
there's no limit to their stomach, and someone who refuses to intake the
smallest drop of carbs. Or calories. If they aren't low numbers they are bad
numbers.
Low numbers….if my
numbers are high, what does that say? Does that mean you are lower human than
me? Or am I lower than you? Undeserving and unworthy of a balanced meal and a
full stomach? Of a healthy life, mind, and body. It brings me to tears if I try
to think too much. I think I'm going to have to go soon.
With no experiences-
how will I ever have a chance to speak? I do not know what it is like. There
are thoughts, though. Thoughts that run past day and night. Do I not get a
goodnight? Is there no happy ending within this?
My love for you
reigns true, I can feel it flowing within me- like a shitty chick-flick. Silly
things I will refuse to write. Not just yet, it isn't quite time. It's 1AM.
And for this was
supposed to be a love poem, something to fuel you with positive momentos,
something that would stick to the back of your brain all day- no matter what
your parents may say. Parent. Parents to keep this writing flowing, I'm
thinking too much again. I care SO MUCH of your thoughts and feelings. It is
still 1AM and I am thinking of you.
The curls that go on
forever in my mind, incoherent daydreams that occur when I take too much Niquil
and I make myself bleed. Silly little things that make that all go away- that
time my phone lit up my blank bedroom with just a smiley emoticon and in that
moment I thought you were going to save my life.
There are so many
fears. I don't know what this is and what it wants to do with me. Is this love?
Does love do this to you? I thought it was silly when I saw people fussing on
and on about how insecure or clingy or any tiny "negative" flaw they could think of. What
if I'm not enough? Not comforting enough? Not caring enough? Not soft enough?
Not dominant enough? Not submissive enough, even? I'm not sure who I am right
now.
What I do know is that I love you. I love you so much that I cannot write shitty love poems. Not in-love. But it's something. You deserve all the happiness I can create. So, this is me
putting all of my tiny negative flaws onto a platter, I hope it isn't too much
for you to stomach.
I MIGHT JUST REGRET THIS.