letter to you (I)

Basorexia

Defined as an overwhelming desire to kiss

The first time I read that word, you popped into my mind like an unhealthy addiction. That's what you were to me, another unhealthy addiction instead of the burning amber liquor and smokes. I needed a dose of that raspy voice and those plain dark orbs. The withdrawals I've been suffering after not having you for the last three weeks have been intense, insomnia nostalgia bulimia but most importantly basorexia.

My overwhelming desire to kiss you, feel every inch of your body pressed tightly against mine. I need to breath you in, memorize all the bumps on your skin, burn them into my memory so I'll never forget them. Oh baby the way you make me feel. How you got me from not wanting to fall in love again to head over heels for you. I never got the chance to properly tell you how much I loved you in person but instead I blurted it out via voice note after you left while high on that damn drink. I felt like you needed to know so with tears falling from my red swollen eyes I finally confessed my thoughts to you, even heavily intoxicated all I could think about were those magnificent plain brown eyes that used to hold so much passion yet are now clouded with disappointment.

I never meant to disappoint you my love but I did and I hate myself everyday a bit more for it. I'm almost giving in to the temptation to tear myself open to feel physical pain but I can't because you'd be even more disappointed in me and maybe even yourself. Remember how you told me you'd beat up the person that led me to self destruction? Well if you find out it's you right now you'd feel guilty. Amber liquor and smokes every time I have the chance, slowly killing my insides but not giving a single damn.

I was told that putting my 'happiness' in your hands was wrong but they don't understand that I never did that. With you I always felt like myself and relieved I didn't have to hide anything from you my love.

But now as the clock ticks and I'm writing this in the comfort of my bedroom I want to apologize for being such a disappointment and letting you down. Elise wrote in my favorite poem ever 'this is anything but self-pity, this is self-hatred' and that is what this is my love. Trust me when I say you did the right thing by hurting me and pushing me away because you deserve so much better then I can offer to give. You my love deserve someone who can bring you the damn milky way while I can't even get you the chocolate. So my love, are you ready to leave me for good? This is the last you'll hear from this plain ol jane, good bye my beautiful beach bombshell, my tomboy playing basketball player, my torch who guided me to the end of the tunnel.

Thank you for the short journey my love,

Goodbye

the sadness struggle

'what is it like? being sad all the time' they asked me, this is me letting you into a part of my head. Voices putting me down all the time, me putting myself down. Not being able to cope with death, abandonment, perfection, depression, emotions. What does death have to do with me? My uncle killed himself last year, he had to courage to do which I never had, he took his own life like I wanted to. Abandonment? the fear of being left, constantly waiting for everyone to distance themselves from me which is what usually happens, promises left and right yet no followthrough. Perfection? The constant need to be what others want from me but also the pull to be who I want to be, seeing people all around me with their lives intact, always smiling and looking genuinely happy. Depression? Living with the constant voices in my head putting me down, being trapped in a mind full of negative thoughts and at times even slicing my skin open just to able to deal with the heartache I'm dealing with. The soothing feeling of ripping my skin open just to feel physical pain for once. Pinching, bruising and hitting myself just to feel alive. Emotions? How do I deal with all the emotions that come with death, abandonment, perfection and depression? I crack a smile and hide the monster that lives inside of me, the monster that is me, smiling so no one know what pain I feel. Behind closed doors I let the tears flow, the tears that are filled with so many emotions I can't tell which one I'm feeling at the moment. As I write this I feel like I exposed myself way too much but I think you deserve an explanation of why I killed myself, of why you couldn't save me, of why I never asked for you help. So what is it like being sad? It's like being a burden to everyone.

undecided masochist

The wind whispers all around me, the cold ignites goosebumps on my sensitive shell. The skin that has been tainted with purple and blue, bruised so often, battered by the idea of love. The hard stare he had been shooting me for a dozen. It started with a simple smack across the appreciation which quickly turned into a hard punch to the adoration. The first few weeks I cried a bunch but after a while I got used to the yelling, bruising and insults. He loved me but also resented me. What stopped me from leaving was my masochistic ways. Self inflicted pain for pleasure, any kind of pain was received with open thoughts.smack.pleasure.stomp.pleasure.shove.pleasure.i love you.undecided.stroke pain, caress pain, gentle pain.