Category Archives: Thoughts

Psych Ward Poesies: P2

I miss your kisses
Your soft lips on my neck
Your teeth on my ear lobe
I can still feel you
When I close my eyes
I still see you
I’m scared, I’ll never get over you
I wish so bad that I could
I wish so bad that my mind was free
Why can’t you just come back
Why can’t you love me too
I fear, my heart can’t take much more
The longing is unbearable
The sadness it burns
I’m desperate
I’m in chains
Please

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My heart is screaming for you
Constant exertion
I can’t make it stop
I’m weak
But I can’t make it stop
Please, I beg
Please stop
You’re not coming back
Still my heart keeps screaming for you
It won’t give up
It wont give in
Not until I’m dead

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Hope is lost
I lost it when you walked out the door
Life has no meaning
I have no purpose
Just another piece of shit
Taking up space


Psych Ward Poesies: P1

My heart aches every time I see your face
But still I stare
You’re smiling
Fuck, that smile
I can’t catch my air
I want to be the one to brighten your day
I want to feel your light
And bask in your warm embrace
Someone else enjoys your sweet taste now
How many times can my heart break
Over and over and over again
A piece of me dies, every time
How long must I perish
How long till the rest of me crumbles
My existence is torture.
I welcome my decease.

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I’m on fire
Burning alive
Suffocating
It’s all my fault
You never wanted me
But I told myself you did
The fantasy absorbed me
Now look
I’m on fire
Burning to death
Meanwhile, you’re fine

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Why did you leave me
What did I do
Just kidding
I know the answers
I don’t deserve your love
I don’t deserve anyone’s love
BPD


I Wish I Were Gettin’ High with Early-1980s Christopher Walken

I know it sounds random, but I just watched The Dead Zone the other day, and oh my goodness, how dorky looking was Christopher in that movie?! His goofy smile and those big, silly glasses – I just wanted to teleport into the movie and ravish him. Never in a million years did I think I would be sexually attracted to Christopher Walken, but man, he was so adorable in that movie! Of course, there are other reasons I wish I could toke up with Christopher right now, but first, I had to clarify why I chose him in the early 1980s. …And, now I need to change my panties.

AHEM, moving on – it’s no secret Christopher Walken is freaking hilarious. Everyone is aware of his brilliance on the big screen, but do the younger folks out there know just how incredible Christopher is on the dance floor?! If not, please refer to Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice” music video.

Now, I imagine my smoke session with Christopher to be nothing short of awkward bliss. He’d sit there with a serious face while I ramble on about butt hair, flaccid penises, crack houses or whatever else comes to mind. Then, about a half hour in, he’d start acting weird as shit, but still with that serious look on his face. Like, maybe he’d just randomly stand up, stare me straight in the eyes and balance a flower pot on his head. You never know.

After a while, we’d definitely have an epic dance-off to De La Soul’s “Keepin’ the Faith.” My brother and I used to love dancing to that song – there is so much potential with it. And not to brag or anything, but I am a pretty rockin’ dancer myself, so Christopher had better watch out!

Of course then, we would be hungry as hell after all that dancing, so we’d make some chicken and pears, one of Christopher’s specialties. And, once we were done eating, we’d fall asleep, cuddled up on a blanket under the stars… It’d be the most perfect smoke session EVER.


Forgotten

I just don’t belong, I am the forgotten one.
You may try to convince me otherwise.
But your actions speak louder than your words.
This happens all too often.
They say they like me, they consider me a friend.
Every time, I fall for it. Every single time.
But you can’t call someone a friend, and not make plans with them.
You can’t call someone a friend, and never reach out.
And I know they have the time, they can put forth the effort.
I see them making plans with other friends, I see them reaching out.
People. They treat me differently.
They say one thing, but do another.
And why?
Why even call me their friend? Why even feed me those lies?
If they really do consider me a friend, why don’t they show me they care?
Why don’t they hang out with me? Why don’t they reach out?
I try hard not to make a big deal of it, I try hard to shrug it off.
I’m an adult, I don’t need friends. I tell myself.
But it hurts.
It hurts to see them hang out with other friends. It hurts to see them reach out.
…The way they said they would with me.
So what is wrong with me?
Do I not deserve their attention? Their effort? Their time?
My life feels empty without friends.
But no one seems to care. No one cares at all.
I just don’t belong, I am the forgotten one.


Ugly

Ugly…
The first word that pops in my head when I look in the mirror.
Is that not normal? Is that not the same for you?
If it is, how do you hide your self-hatred so well?
How do you feel so comfortable showing off your body?

I wish I could be like you.
I wish I could feel comfortable getting dolled up, taking photos of myself.
But I don’t.
Instead I hide my womanly features, I hide from the camera.
Why?
If I put effort into my appearance, people will think I think I look good, and then judge me for still being ugly.
Sounds silly, right?
I know, but I can’t even look in the mirror in a public restroom out of fear that other women will see me freshening up my look, and then judge me for even trying when there is nothing I can do to look pretty.
Same goes for photos.

Don’t get me wrong. I take selfies, but I feel weird sharing them.
I feel weird looking at them.
I just don’t feel special enough, I don’t feel worthy.
All I see is flaw after flaw after flaw.
And I dread when my friends want to take photos with me.
I always look so ugly compared to them.
It depresses me.
But still I take photos with them, to make them happy.

I hate that I feel this way. I wish I could get past it.
I always try to convince myself that I am beautiful, but it’s hard.
How can I believe such a thing when there is no proof?
Rarely do I receive compliments on my looks.
My mom always told me that’s because no one compliments the pretty girl.
I know that’s not true.

And so what if I am really ugly?
What’s wrong with that?
Why can’t I accept it and own it?
Why can’t I just be comfortable in my own skin?

My biggest regret so far is that I’ve never learned to love myself.
I took my youth for granted, I wasted it feeling insecure and ashamed.
And now that chapter in my life is over.
It sucks.
But I guess all I can do now is pick up the pieces and try.
Try to see beauty through my doubt.
I just don’t know if it’s possible.
No matter what I do, when I look in the mirror, all I see is ugly.
…Ugly.