i should just face the truth with practicality– that some people are going to like you and some people won’t– but instead, i mourn over humans who hate me both for things i deserve and things i do not not even because i miss them but for the simple reason that i now know i … More Betrayals
i walked in the kitchen to a bouquet of yellow roses from my father to my mother and for a moment my heart was sad that i have no one to bring me flowers– but then i remembered you used to and i made you leave them at the door.
you were the one thing i did right– and somehow, i still ended up getting us wrong.
i regret my mistakes– but the trouble is that i do not know if i regret them enough to change.
i haven’t spoken to anyone in days and they think i am in danger of isolating myself but truthfully, i am just tired of the mental toll it takes while trying to fight the voices that haunt me– so much talking all at once and i just need a little bit of quiet.
i certainly write a lot of romantic poetry for someone who has never been in love– and i’ve heard it said that ‘we are our desires’ so i wonder if, maybe, i am not quite as content as i say that i am to be on my own.
i worry sometimes that i am just a stereotypical beatnik of a teenage girl whose poetry is meaningless and full of overused metaphors and there is nothing to separate me from the millions of other wannabe tumblr poets who post pictures of themselves on the internet smoking, and wearing mustard yellow– but screw that, for … More Clichés