She

It wasn't even dawn yet and you could already smell the sun starting to come up yet she was already awake running through her house, trying to occupy herself, trying to distract her from the reality that has become her life. The reality that has haunted her for the past few months, the bags under her eyes haven't gone away for weeks, the sleeping pills no longer work. Closing her eyes for more than a few minutes already makes the horrible memories surface. She drinks herself into a comatose state just for 4 hours of sleep every night, 4 hours of sleep haven't been enough for her to function right at her shitty job. She goes to work, she gets home, searches for the bottles before sulking on the alcohol until her body finally gives up and collapses. The days flashed by yet dragged along leaving her with the torturous memories and permanent scars on her once smooth skin. The horrible burn marks that stretch across her thighs and ankles, a daily reminder of how she couldn't save them, a permanent reminder of how her wife and princess died in the horrible house fire while they managed to get her out. They pulled her screaming out of the house, not because her flesh was being burned open no but because of the screams of her little girl and her wife. The screams for her to help them yet she was too late, the fire fighters couldn't do anything, they were too late. She spend many nights after that reliving that night, she could still hear their screams, struggles, their pleads and lastly nothing, they had suffocated and after that burned to ashes, beyond recognition. On their first death anniversary she decided to join them in a special place. She loved them so much she gave up her life to be with them again.

diary entry

It's almost 11pm which is usually not my breaking down hour but I guess today is different. She didn't acknowledge my existence, she hasn't really in a while now. I guess you can say we got really close really fast. Letting her into my personal space wasn't hard at all, she has this aura which made me feel at home. Feeling at home is something I haven't felt in a while. We shared what I think was all our deepest darkest secrets if you can call them that. She hasn't bolted to the door yet which is what I usually expect when I share my story with new people and after what she has trusted me with I don't plan on leaving either. I want to help her feel better yet there is always this wall when we get a bit too cozy with each other. I guess this whole entry is about how I'm starting to like this amazing girl who I started talking to again only two weeks ago. We used to go to school together 5 to 6 years ago, she used to scare me back then. I know I shouldn't get attached because it usually backfires the person leaves but she promised me she's not like everyone else who has left, she promised me she'll stay with me. I hope that if she reads this she won't shut me out nor think I've absolutely lost my senses. She's almost the only person who can make me cry of laughter after we were just screaming at each other a few minutes before, she intrigues me but most of all she makes me want to become a better person. 

undecided masochist lover

she was always around taunting me, teasing me, out shining me. She would never give me a chance to be the bright one in the relationship until I snapped. I smacked that crooked smile right of her face but it didn't feel like she hated me for it. Her eyes shined with an emotion I hadn't seen before, it looked like she enjoyed me using her as my punching bag. Slaps soon turned into punches and shoves yet she never left. She loved me and I loved her yet I couldn't help but resent her, that grin she shoots me, lovey doves eyes. I hate attachment and she stuck to me like plaster, we started out as just hook ups which turned into actually falling for her. I yelled and yelled until I found her journal which explained why she never left. She loved the pain, she was a masochist. She never told me this, it seems like the strokes, caresses and gentleness only caused her pain yet the smacks, stomps and shoves caused her pleasure. Her once pale skin was battered, tainted with purple and blue bruises which my love left on her. Why do I hurt this women who I care so much about? Why do I hurt the only women I've ever loved besides my mom? Have you ever seen that movie with Logan Lerman in which he plays a fucked up kid? I remember him saying 'we accept the love we think we deserve' maybe that's why she hasn't left yet or maybe it's her masochistic self stopping her. I want to change, I want to be better I want to be someone she deserves.
slap.
heartache.
punch.
heartache.
shove.
heartache.
i love you.
undecided.
smile jealousy, achievement jealousy, happiness jealousy.

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.