Worthy Worry Weary Waiting.

I'm not a prize to be won. Neither of you are better than the other. Do you think that you are? Do you think that you could be? Once you've won, what then? I'll be yours? I've never been any ones. I don't trust and am not to be trusted. I don't even love myself, how can I love you?

You are suffocating me. You are destroying me. You are repulsing me. Your need is devastating. Willing to put up with my behaviour regardless of my choices.

I made a choice.

I MADE A BIG FUCKING MISTAKE.

I am so full of mistakes and my nose keeps bleeding. I'm lying down in these sheets where you both have lain.
I am awash with guilt. I am awash with pleasure.

It's not enough and it's too much all at once.
I am forcing this too much that it's going to break.

I have you both crying in my arms in a single night.
What the fuck can I do?

You still think that I am something worth winning?

How wrong you are.

Hate is a four letter word.

I know that you're reading this and I want you to know that I hate you.

I hate you for loving me. I hate you for letting me use you, hurt you, fuck you. I hate you for letting me control you, own you, destroy you. I hate you for letting me in again and again and again. I hate you for blurring the lines. I hate you for constantly complaining, whining, whinging. I hate you for letting me fall, for letting me suck you in. I hate you for falling in love with me. I hate you for the fact that I fell in love with you, however brief and blind that was. I hate you for your self-depreciation, victimisation and grief. I hate you for your height, the moth ball of your breath and the clothes you wear. I hate you for having the friends that you have. I hate them, too. I hate your ex - she's a fucking cunt, just like you. Just like me she fucked you over. I hate you for your loyalty to me, the pressure you put on me to have sex with you. I hate your mouth, your eyes, your hands on me. I hate your smell, your car, your stupid fucking shoes [kicks], your materialistic life. I hate your Matryrdom. I hate your father, as I hate mine.

I hate you _______.

I fucking hate you.

Relief Bleeds Remorse

You know, I don't feel any relief at all. I thought, well hoped, that I would. I thought I would feel it rush through me like venom in a snake's mouth. Anaesthetising me. Coating the words with numbness. No such luck. I feel remorse, sadness, but no relief. I still feel torn, as though I have made a mistake. Either way - I didn't want to give up either of them. I didn't want to turn my back on either of them. Oh Uh Huh Her Hurting.

I look into her blue blue blue eyes and see the hardness forming behind them, that will develop more and more over the years. The cynicism that I now carry within me. Her heart is so pure and untainted, I sit across from her, watching her face fall as she realises why I have come to meet her, why I look so tired, worn, beaten down, weary. Ahhhh she says, the word escaping her mouth as a sigh. I've been fucking exhausting myself trying to make this end in a way where no one gets hurt. She looks me in the face and says oh well - I can put this down as experience, I groan outwardly and cast my eyes down, ashamed that that is what I have become to her. I don't want to walk away.

[In my mind I tell her I don't mean it, I want to be with her, and then I kiss her on the mouth.] In reality, I get up, put my hand on her arm and say quietly, I'm sorry, ______. She walks me to the door, I place a kiss on her cheek, aiming for her mouth, she turns her face. Ahhh - that hurt.

I walk down the hill, away from her, looking back twice. But she's gone.

The Crust Of Mourning.

Draw lines over my body. Separate + segregate. Highlight the best parts of me, not the sickness, not the disease. Only the good, whole, strong pieces. The parts that will make me feel whole, good, true. The goodness that I can't see. Colour the bad in black, so that it disappears and I can't see it anymore. Erase it. Erase that part of me. Syphon away, grate the edges, the crust of me. Find the warmth and nestle it to the safe, healthy sun to grow and expand and take over. Make the goodness consume me. Make me whole. Sharpen Desires Gradually.


The streets cast shadows on the street lights. Darkening their halogen bloom. I trip over tree roots, cracking through the pavement. It's not so dark that I can't see but I am rushing home, to an empty house, exhilarated with all that I have achieved tonight. I beat the monster that is my own mind and managed to escape. Rushing back to bite the hands that feeds me, an abused dog, forever loyal to it's master. She says that I am a sucker for punishment, I respond coolly "Perhaps then, that is why I fell in love with you, after all?" Evermore Chasing Blind Dreams.


Now there is someone else here, sharing my laughs with me. Sharing my bed, my dreams, fears and best of all - my HOPES. When I woke up next to her, for a moment I was shocked, anxious, for she is beautiful even with a face full of lines, imprints from my pillow. Her hair fanned beside her, Wide doe eyes. There is an innocence there that repels me, makes me want to protect her from myself and the darkness that is inside of me. The things that I have seen, the things I have experienced, have all become the very things that I wish to protect her from. She touches my arm and smiles. I feel dry and still want to sleep. But she is pulling me back to reality with her mouth, her eyes, the smell of her. Knowing that she was here, with me, ME, made me want to shout. Her burnt pink skin, expelling heat that I can feel from the other side of the bed, escaping from her arm that wraps me close to her. A heat that I find neither oppressive or uncomfortable. A heat that I feel both externally and internally. A heat that consumes. Mouthing Peace.


This city is dripping in memories of you.They are inescapable. It's been more than two years. Since I touched you, since I kissed you or mouthed you name with any kind of ownership. It's been so long, but I remember everything. Your smell, eyes, mannerisms. Your body, your breathe, your bravery. I've forgotten nothing. The angst, the abuse, the accusations. The love, the hate, the blood that was shed and the bruises hidden. The fucking teeth marks that remain on both you and I to this day. The things, utterances that came from my own mouth, to push you to the edge, to make you cry. To HURT you with. I remember them all. It sickens me, and I wish that I could forget. Close my eyes to it all. I wish that I could see you one more time, touch you with what love I have left for you. You are inescapable, in my blood, the very oxygen that I breath, you are the cancer in my lungs and the nightmares in my head. You are the one, the one, the one. I wander the streets, wondering if it could ever be OK between you and I, if one day, I will be happy that you are even alive. Your cold gaze tells me otherwise. I am yet to go a single day without thinking about you. It has been over four years and there you are, familiar and foreign. Justifying My Compulsions.

Liquid Heat.

I like to hear things that remind you of me.
Inanimate objects that make you think about me.
I like that you think of me at all.
I wonder, often - what is it that goes through your head?
I wonder, wandering past your street, what is the reason behind it all?
The kisses and heat and phone calls.
The day long silences. The ex factor.
Everything spins when I am with you,
Time flashes past and there is always somewhere else we have to be.
I'm working on, working up to telling you it's over.
I'm working on being strong, being forward.
Confessions spill from your mouth aided by your one true love.
Red red red wine, that stains your lips - my throat burns with Vodka.
You tell of your broken heart, how you know mine is in the same condition, perhaps worse.
I blink in the dark, starring at the ceiling, "perhaps" I reply. Your body moves, rustling the sheets.
You body heat melts my strong resolve. Your mere presence, weakens me.
Loneliness is the silent killer.
You tell me laughingly that you think I am your favourite.
The smile travels all the way to my finger tips and I touch your face, "ache"
And I don't believe a fucking word of it.


I am not a sole traveller, journeying through the YOUniverse.

Left.

LEFT

I've been and it's what you do with your hands.

LEFT

I've been and it's what you are - handed handed.

And it's what I've been.

Without you, within me.

My first New Years without you and you couldn't even find it within you not to contact me.

So I was in the arms of another. From another life, another time. I know this one. I can control this situation. No feelings. No care. Nothing. Because I found it within me to be the cold bitch that you are to me. Now I win, you lose.