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fallen angel
Jan. 22nd, 2025 11:44 pmi used to be. so much.
i used to be interesting,
so much so that people would want to hear updates about my daily life
my opinions on things because i had the odd point of view
my presence a saving grace to some
so much so that they'd take me back despite my own conflicts
my caring demeanor and listening ear
so that they would come back for more
i was loved.
i was popular.
i was surrounded by people i truly cared about and vice versa.
to even think about how they are makes me sick.
sick because i know i might never know.
im just an empty husk now
a shell of the girl i once was
a dead woman.
i used to be interesting,
so much so that people would want to hear updates about my daily life
my opinions on things because i had the odd point of view
my presence a saving grace to some
so much so that they'd take me back despite my own conflicts
my caring demeanor and listening ear
so that they would come back for more
i was loved.
i was popular.
i was surrounded by people i truly cared about and vice versa.
to even think about how they are makes me sick.
sick because i know i might never know.
im just an empty husk now
a shell of the girl i once was
a dead woman.
Hopeless.
I scream out for help, but no one hears me.
The crowd is too loud and I get drowned out.
All of my pleas end up as silent shouts.
It's so hard to tell what's real and what's fake.
That place.
That seems like hell for everyone else until they leave.
Only got much worse after I left.
I keep seeing those people.
Who I could've been.
Short-lived, but real friendships.
Yet I might never see them again.
My old friends turning into me, but sadder.
Then I'm taken back into the real world.
And none of those realities even mattered.
No one wants to hear a dream.
A dream that makes no sense, but means so much to me.
Then I think about how crazy I am.
How crazy I would sound to them.
How I got here.
That not even I know.
How I got stuck in this constant loop of numbness.
How sometimes I'm so good at pretending.
But sometimes the facade slips.
And I have to glue the pieces back together before everything falls apart.
How can I stop being self aware?
How can I get myself to believe my old delusions?
How can I be happy again?
It'll never work.
Because no matter what, I keep being pulled back into reality.
So many people just like me, yet I feel so alone.
So isolated from them.
I can't talk to them because I'm not allowed into the crowd.
Instead I stare off into space, because all hope is lost.
I'm hopeless now.
I scream out for help, but no one hears me.
The crowd is too loud and I get drowned out.
All of my pleas end up as silent shouts.
It's so hard to tell what's real and what's fake.
That place.
That seems like hell for everyone else until they leave.
Only got much worse after I left.
I keep seeing those people.
Who I could've been.
Short-lived, but real friendships.
Yet I might never see them again.
My old friends turning into me, but sadder.
Then I'm taken back into the real world.
And none of those realities even mattered.
No one wants to hear a dream.
A dream that makes no sense, but means so much to me.
Then I think about how crazy I am.
How crazy I would sound to them.
How I got here.
That not even I know.
How I got stuck in this constant loop of numbness.
How sometimes I'm so good at pretending.
But sometimes the facade slips.
And I have to glue the pieces back together before everything falls apart.
How can I stop being self aware?
How can I get myself to believe my old delusions?
How can I be happy again?
It'll never work.
Because no matter what, I keep being pulled back into reality.
So many people just like me, yet I feel so alone.
So isolated from them.
I can't talk to them because I'm not allowed into the crowd.
Instead I stare off into space, because all hope is lost.
I'm hopeless now.
thank you to myself and no one else.
Jan. 8th, 2025 12:04 amthank you kiwu. thank you for always being there for me. thank you for never being too busy to ask me about how I'm really feeling. thank you for never causing problems for me. and when you do cause problems, thank you for apologizing and doing the best you can to fix it. thank you for not killing yourself even though you could and we'd never see our future. thank you for making an effort to know me and understand my reasoning for things. thank you for treating me like a person and not a web experiment or ai chatbot. thank you for actually listening to me. thank you for always loving me. i'll always love you too. you're my best friend because no one else wants me as one. and we'll always be best friends.
I can't breathe
Dec. 20th, 2024 08:13 pmI can't breathe
I've fallen off the ship before I could learn how to swim
Every time I try to get back up for air, keep my composure
Realize i'm okay for that moment and relax enough to float
I'm pulled right back under
And every gasp for air gets less satisfactory as my lungs slowly fill up with water
As I cough and wince from the salty, unsanitary water
Stinging my eyes and burning my nostrils
So exhausted that I've lost all the energy to panic
I've tried to give up, let the sea of despair consume me
Fill my lungs up all by myself, but it won't work
It won't work
It won't work because I didn't make the rules of the sea
I can't control whether I live or die or not
I can't leave this misery because i'm not in control
The sea doesn't want to eat me
It claims to love me, that water is good for me
So it keeps waterboarding me, pulling me under
Knowing I can't swim, I hate water
It knows I can't swim, but it wants me to swim anyway
It thinks swimming will help me, so it pulls me under
It's my fault
The water tells me
I'm tired
I sleep all day, there's nothing else to do
I have a chance at life, but only if I change myself
Everyone else's world didn't stop
They get to move on and keep up with everything going on
I'm missing out
I've missed so many important things, but I'm not allowed to be frustrated
Not allowed to have mental breakdowns
Not allowed to throw things
To throw things so I don't hurt me instead
Not allowed to hurt anyone or anything
Not allowed to make too much noise
Not allowed to be hurt by anyone else because then they would be sad
I would have to tell them sorry, but it's ok if they hurt me?
It's not okay.
Nothing is okay.
This isn't normal.
Everything was fine.
We were doing better.
So many things to look forward to.
But it all left in the blink of an eye.
False hope that I could fly, only to fall 1000 feet down on the pavement.
I just want my life back.
I want my life back so bad.
I would do anything to be myself again.
Am I being selfish? Unrealistic? Disrespectful, Ungrateful?
Am I asking for too much?
Should I just make them happy instead?
Is what I want for myself too much for everyone else?
no. No. NO. I'M RIGHT. I'm right. I know I'm right because I've seen it before. I'm surrounded by people who all see through the same eye prescription. They're blind to a lot, and they won't acknowledge it. They blame me when I take off their glasses and everything's blurry. So I have to keep maneuvering in their vision. Or else they'll take my eyes out. With a fountain pen. A fountain pen. It'll hurt even worse than the fresh, open wounds I already have. It'll never heal. They tell me I'm being dramatic. That they aren't that bad and I'm painting them in a bad light. That it's my fault for seeing them as so horrible for no reason, because they haven't done anything? That's not true. What is true, is that I am dramatic. It's who I am. It's the only way people will acknowledge me. The only way i'll be taken seriously. And I've come to love it. I love who I am. And because I love who I am, I'm going to protect that. I've saved up almost enough to buy my own pair of glasses. To resume my world's orbit. To call a ship to rescue me from the sea. I'll keep the fountain pen for myself, as decoration because it's pretty. I'm almost there, so I'll keep enduring. Even if I so desperately want to stop. I can see the happy ending, so i'll sit through this traumatic production.
Mark my words. I'll be back. And i'll be better than ever. And then i'll never touch water again.
I've fallen off the ship before I could learn how to swim
Every time I try to get back up for air, keep my composure
Realize i'm okay for that moment and relax enough to float
I'm pulled right back under
And every gasp for air gets less satisfactory as my lungs slowly fill up with water
As I cough and wince from the salty, unsanitary water
Stinging my eyes and burning my nostrils
So exhausted that I've lost all the energy to panic
I've tried to give up, let the sea of despair consume me
Fill my lungs up all by myself, but it won't work
It won't work
It won't work because I didn't make the rules of the sea
I can't control whether I live or die or not
I can't leave this misery because i'm not in control
The sea doesn't want to eat me
It claims to love me, that water is good for me
So it keeps waterboarding me, pulling me under
Knowing I can't swim, I hate water
It knows I can't swim, but it wants me to swim anyway
It thinks swimming will help me, so it pulls me under
It's my fault
The water tells me
I'm tired
I sleep all day, there's nothing else to do
I have a chance at life, but only if I change myself
Everyone else's world didn't stop
They get to move on and keep up with everything going on
I'm missing out
I've missed so many important things, but I'm not allowed to be frustrated
Not allowed to have mental breakdowns
Not allowed to throw things
To throw things so I don't hurt me instead
Not allowed to hurt anyone or anything
Not allowed to make too much noise
Not allowed to be hurt by anyone else because then they would be sad
I would have to tell them sorry, but it's ok if they hurt me?
It's not okay.
Nothing is okay.
This isn't normal.
Everything was fine.
We were doing better.
So many things to look forward to.
But it all left in the blink of an eye.
False hope that I could fly, only to fall 1000 feet down on the pavement.
I just want my life back.
I want my life back so bad.
I would do anything to be myself again.
Am I being selfish? Unrealistic? Disrespectful, Ungrateful?
Am I asking for too much?
Should I just make them happy instead?
Is what I want for myself too much for everyone else?
no. No. NO. I'M RIGHT. I'm right. I know I'm right because I've seen it before. I'm surrounded by people who all see through the same eye prescription. They're blind to a lot, and they won't acknowledge it. They blame me when I take off their glasses and everything's blurry. So I have to keep maneuvering in their vision. Or else they'll take my eyes out. With a fountain pen. A fountain pen. It'll hurt even worse than the fresh, open wounds I already have. It'll never heal. They tell me I'm being dramatic. That they aren't that bad and I'm painting them in a bad light. That it's my fault for seeing them as so horrible for no reason, because they haven't done anything? That's not true. What is true, is that I am dramatic. It's who I am. It's the only way people will acknowledge me. The only way i'll be taken seriously. And I've come to love it. I love who I am. And because I love who I am, I'm going to protect that. I've saved up almost enough to buy my own pair of glasses. To resume my world's orbit. To call a ship to rescue me from the sea. I'll keep the fountain pen for myself, as decoration because it's pretty. I'm almost there, so I'll keep enduring. Even if I so desperately want to stop. I can see the happy ending, so i'll sit through this traumatic production.
Mark my words. I'll be back. And i'll be better than ever. And then i'll never touch water again.
