A lot of people don’t know. Yet they think they do. I fake a smile almost everyday just to please others. But I’m dying inside. I’m dying. Not because I’m afraid to live but because… that I don’t know. I always tell others you must love yourself but yet I fail to love myself. I’ve lost myself to a storm. I’ve been at my lowest peak for as long as I can remember. And It is depression. I’ve realized not many people want to hear me mooping and sobbing about how I feel but they rather hear me speak on false hopes that I have for myself. This is depression. Another victim. Another scar. Another person whose voice doesn’t get heard. You would think a asylum would help. But to Lock me up and put me in a stray jacket. Isn’t what I want. “But Isn’t that best way to solve depression? To lock you away and make sure you’re safe?” This is depression. Not wanting to do anything because you fear the wrong thing may happen. Or that people are intentionally doing things to hurt you. And no one wants to die alone trust me. I’m at my happiest when I’m not surrounded by my thoughts.
I want to say I’m relaxing and enjoying life but that’s not the case. Anixety is not the only thing that I deal with. I won’t say I suffer from anxiety because I know I can control how I feel only if I take control of my emotions. But at times I find myself to be weak. Drifting away. Like why do I live this life if all I feel is myself suffering? But then my inner voice speaks to me and tells me there is much greater out there for me. I know that we all go through trials and tribulations but why must I wake up to a fight? But not a fight with another being. But fight with myself. Like if things are supoose to get better why haven’t they already? You ever wonder what if this happen? …. nah that can’t happen that’s been done.. then paranoid thoughts start to follow. People wonder if I’m okay. “Oh yes I am.” Thats the lie I tell them and myself.. while thinking the same old shit what if I… thats not good to think like that… someone once told me I was crazy I was unstable I was insane. But then I asked myself years later was I ever insane crazy or unstable till I met them? And the answer was No. Hell no at that. I’m not crazy I’m nothing more than a human whose been hurt. But you know what if I’m crazy because how I feel. Then so fucking be it.
I should have known it was over but lack of self-love kept me thinking we had potential.
You said we were better off as friends, but how could I be friends with someone I’m in love with?
I’m still waiting on that call when you say “I’m just checking up on you to know that you’re doing well.”
But I guess it’s my fault for expecting too much. Right? Or is it my fault for giving you too much of me?
Shit they say if you love someone and they come back to you then they’re yours but you didn’t come back so I guess you were never mine to begin with. Huh?
You love that stupid girl and you don’t even give me the time of day anymore I find it funny I’m not going to be upset or anything because you never failed to amaze me.
I questioned myself for months upon months were did I go wrong? But shit I had to remind myself that it is a dog eat dog world.
You use to love to screw those women and then tell me that you’d never do it again? You had to be fucking kidding.
I took you back many many times and now you settled down with another chick?
I sound like a jealous bitter female but this what happens when you give someone you’re all and they leave you with nothing but baggage.
Why is it that you’re still a thought in my mind though? If you really did call me I would say fuck you…
They ask me ” You love her right.” I blush as if you were the one asking me if I loved you. The answer has always been yes even when it could’ve been no. You were worth keeping, you’re worth it all. How about that smile that use to grin from corner to corner. Or those soft lips that use to sing sweet lullabies to me at night to help me sleep. I wonder do you still think of me or is the feeling you feel faded? How I can love someone so far away? (I chuckle to myself.) How do you love someone who’s moved on? Do you not care that your irreverent to them and that it could never be? These are the questions I ask myself daily. But shot i still find myself thinking Hey maybe one day she’ll call or send a text. *thinking* What I would I say? Would it be to late? Would I be the one who’s finally moved on in life? We were young. Yes. Did I love her? The question has already been answered. If i didn’t love her I wouldn’t be still hurting over someone that left so long ago….
Why is this so complicated.
I’m trying I really am but it’s just uhh
I literally left for reason and it’s like I keep coming back to this spot where I’m fucked up. .
They don’t understand.
They rather question how I feel
but it’s okay it’s whatever.
I’m going to act like im covering this up with tattoo just so y’all can assume it was an ex’s name.
In reality I’m having my tea scrolling through the bullshit laughing here & there.
Closing my bedroom door thinking “Why keep pushing?”