I don't care.
I don't fucking care.
I don't care.
I don't fucking care.
I don't care.
I don't fucking care.

I DON'T FUCKING CARE.

Watch dog

I'm laying in bed and all I can think of is how to find someone.

Why? Why am I thinking about this?

Why does it feel as painful as lighting my self on fire? Because of all the times I've failed?

I don't know how anyone should act.

Everyone I've ever tried to love makes me feel like I'm just doing it wrong. Made me feel like I'm a fucking alien. Some kind of inhuman monster who wants to wear someone's skin.

I'm not.

I'm a fucking human being who just wants love.

So why don't you like being around your friends?

I do.. But its just not enough for me. I'm not contempt. I'm not fulfilled. I feel like I need more than them. I feel they can't make me feel the way I need to.

Drinking coffee at five in the after noon apparently keeps me up until two in the morning. Great.

When I meet people, I know I'm flawless. I know I'm charismatic and funny. I know I'm charming and attractive. I guess some where along the line people just find out they can't connect with me. We don't have the same humor and values. The only people I can connect with are emotionally unstable it seems.

Breaking at the seams.

I feel like I need a drink.

A rip of a bong.

A line of coke.

It's different

  -knowing you read. I actually believed for quite sometime that you had stopped. A part of me really hoped you took the time to read what I wrote since you emailed me. That you may see my thoughts and maybe one day, you'd favor me once more.
.
  But I really felt different writing. I felt I couldn't make a mistake. Knowing that I didn't have to be wary of my emotions out on a platter for you to pry and become upset about. There was a sense of freedom and a new found motivation to put behind checking the words I wrote. It was insightful finding pleasure in seeing how I could convey images and emotion. Actually enjoying something I haven't in such a long time. It's nothing to be upset about. I know I could write well if I achieved what I strive for.

  I noticed that when I have you in my life, I set out a whole part of me to pursue you. A whole part to think of ways to make you happy, to make you fall in love with me, to make you feel okay with showing me you. Letting me see you with my own two eyes. But it's something I cannot control. I cannot stop the feeling that makes me anxious when I don't hear from you. I can't take the direction of my life and put it towards other things aside from you. I'm a fucking fool and you already know it. I always put love ahead of all else in my life. For better or worse that's who I've become, I just hope things end in a place where we are both happy.

  From this devotion, I lose a sense of creativity as if my mind is greatly preoccupied. I believe subconsciously I set love as my highest priority; Above making friends, finding success, or creating something beautiful. I mean it sucks I can't write well, but it comforts me in such a way; knowing you can conclude how much you mean to me if your actions affect me so greatly.

Missed work today.

I lost a sense of time due to my lack of wanting to stare my responsibilities straight in the face. I knew I had work but put off checking when for the last few days.

Tuesday you know how I feel.

Why did you ask me if i'm talking to anyone else?
I wish you would just be on more often.
I hate waiting on your words.
The earth stops spinning and the wind stops blowing.

Fallow

  I woke up around two p.m. today. Throughout the morning my cell was blaring alarms from messages, emails, everything and everyone that I didn't want to hear nor see. The alarm always sends a shot of deep anxiety and despair directly into my heart. In that noise is every memory of every person I've loved and lost. Pure ecstasy would surface at the short reading of a name. Ajee`. Nikki. I don't think I'll get over that noise any time soon.
  I re-read an email I sent to a previous lover over and over as I sat in my well-wrinkled chair.

" I know It wasn't your intention, but it's insulting sending someone a valentine who has feelings for you, telling them you wish they were family. Don't respond "sorry" or "okay." I'd prefer no response in lieu of that. I'm far more deserving than single word responses. If you have nothing to say otherwise, then don't."

  I was harsh. I was angry when I wrote it. I felt bad reading it. Probably because I still feel for her. Once upon a time I knew how to handle situations like this. Whether writing the letter was a good idea or not. But now? Hah, fuck. I couldn't tell you if feeding myself was a good idea.

  So I was harsh, was I right to be? I mean she lied to me, telling me she loved me and that she wouldn't leave me only moments before she did. But how foolish of a promise is that? How could I honestly believe that she'd keep those words. I had to beg her to show affection. No one should ever put themselves through that. If she didn't feel it, she didn't feel it. I guess I just didn't want to let her go.

--To be continued.

Leave

Abandon your heart

Stop.

Me and Tuesday should have split paths a long time ago.
It just wouldn't have worked.
I kept holding onto the thought that if she loved me, she would change herself.
But who was I kidding? Having her adapt to a whole new way of life with me?
She barely has a handle on her own, and I'm about to throw her into mine where I don't even have any true friends who know me.
I don't think it would be enough for her.
It's why I always wanted to come out there instead of stay here.

But all that thought is innate now. There's no point in dwelling. Apart of me knows she'll read this one day and throw it back in my face somehow.

So where am I now? Shit it's been a long fucking time, eh? It's a weird feeling starting to address myself. I mean, I always have been. But now that I'm not concerned with anyone else? It's.. Different. Different in a way that I haven't felt in a long time.

I need to figure out my priorities. And i'm sure as shit going to need to take my time on that one.

It's hard

Seeing high cheekbones
dark hair
Knowing lykke li
chelsea wolfe
m nadler.
going to work seeing
san francisco every where i look
knowing I have a twitter
realizing the way I say hello
repeating the word gurl
watching scary movies
seeing tiger lily's
hearing someone giggle.
but at least,
no one has your dumb beautiful fucking name.
that rolled off my lips with more
pleasure than food and water.

Leave me

What is it you yearn for?

As I'm sitting in my room searching for purpose,
I find I'm afraid of laying in bed. Knowing what I'll be thinking easily brings me to a place I don't want to be. If I don't preoccupy my mind it will fall.

Instincts

Were right.

You were never honest.
Its only what I deserve.

Next time, don't "protect" me.
Save that for someone you hate.
Because it hurts erasing
The words "I adore you",
"I'm not going to leave you for someone else."
from a place where my security used to lie.
And know for every letter of every word that you misguided me with were moments
Where I'd spend hours, days, weeks,
Fantasizing of
Holding you, meeting you,
Learning your smile,
Feeling safe, but now,
I no longer have to watch my back,
To make sure,
That you're right behind as before.
Because now you'll never be there in the first place.

I want to cry.
I want to forget.

I want to rip my heart out of my chest and burn out my eyes.

I want to stop feeling for love.

Barking

I feel a distance from my lover.
She holds her words behind her lips.
Am I overwhelming?
Why can't you say so?
Silence drives wounds deep.

Sorethroat

Clung like a hook in flesh
I dig deep in my throat
Sucking blood and pressure
Bringing pain
Thick saliva constantly threatens
To choke me in my sleep
I am being tortured
Mentally, physically,
I want to abandon hope.