Praying for love

Talking about sensitive subjects is tricky and I honestly have gotten good at hiding stuff and I’d rather not talk about it but writing seems to be easier and like I mentioned in the description of this blog, I write to heal and if this will help one person see that as much as it feels like we are alone in our silently on going battles, we are not.
This took about a week to complete because I kept getting emotional during writing and could not continue because, I have to beg myself to get up but I’m determined to.
I’m doing this one though, if not for me then for you; something truthful and real, pretty much a one go thing based on my current mood and head space.

No need for a compilation and list of characters. This story is about me, and (Spoiler alert) I die in it.

I’ll be honest; I am a sad, pretty morbid writer. It gets too much at times I know, but this is where my head is right now and in my head it’s not so bad

Here take a look;

I have been praying for love, trying to cast the shadows away.

Most days I am just a girl crumbling to her knees with a bruised heart, broken ribs shaken from the muffled screams ,scarred from the dried tears, wasted blood. Tainted by the world. I’m the pill popping girl no one seems to notice I’m the wrist cutting and dark poem writing girl who relates only to the made up stories of the dark those told to keep kids out of trouble.
Some days I dream of calm nights, and I don’t think I am strong enough to keep my head held high enough to find the peace in the sky and fall inlove with the beauty of the moon.
I wish I could stand in the shadow and not feel it’s shadows.
Been praying for love, wondering if I’ll know when it’s time to be strong and love me, maybe it won’t hurt.
I saw myself in those very shadows, cold and shuttered. Didn’t know it showed until I tried to let go and go.
What kind of love am I praying and waiting for?
The kind that will shine through the shadows and the kind that only comes from within.
See I am praying for inner peace, The type of love that will let me grow make it easier for me to thank you for showering me with your love.
But now, I keep asking myself why does my love keep hurting me only in the mornings? And I did the one loving thing, in my head I, held myself tight, loved myself right. Freed myself from the shame and doubt, was taking so long to get there. I have been praying for love, wondering if I knew how to do it right and in my head I finally figured it out.
I finally got it right, in my head I loved myself right. It took a few cuts and a bottle of wine and a few pills and I can’t thank you enough for setting me free, my love won’t end it. Never thought that in my head I’d get it right.


Mending the Sadness.

We get sad occasionally, we let stress beat us up and batter us down. We ignore the signs, fake smiling is easier. Drowning ourselves in caffeine makes more sense but before we get to the point where everything feels and is bad again we always feel ourselves drifting, you can always feel yourself getting bad again. You don’t have to give in to those morbid thoughts, it doesn’t have to be “your thing”
Personally I have never believed that talking helps, I would rather just ignore it all. The dizzy spells, the constant crying, the cups of coffee I keep needing to drink, the out of the blue agitation and anger burst outs, by now it’s easier to tell what triggers what but who do I talk to? What am I supposed to talk about? Openly disscus how crazy I feel on a daily? That would be admitting to actually being crazy, one of the things I cannot handle is not being in control especially of my own thoughts; so talking about my feelings and constant pain will only worsen things and heighten the problem.
WAIT… “The Problem”? I don’t have a problem. I just see myself clearly. There are certain thoughts and ideas that go far beyond just being ideas and thoughts. There are hidden but known truths, like for instances:
I think I cannot allow myself to be fully happy
because being sad and depressed is my way of
punishing me.
I failed myself for years on end,
I feel like I killed the little girl, her happiness,
her hopes and dreams.
She had no real happiness;
I can’t deserve any kind of happiness.
I grew up to forget about her,
her pain
and was quick to pretend that I don’t know what happened;
I didn’t feel what broke her.
I do all these things because
it brings back part of the pain and reminds me.
But I don’t want to be the broken little girl anymore,
I don’t want to be a victim of my life
for the rest of my life.
There has to be some kind of help out there, for the first time this is me reaching out or atleast trying to.

Scraps of Love

You give me little bits of insignificant nothing that you call love,I have seen people live off scraps of love and as petty as that may sound they survived and no one wants to just to survive.

I barely get the cast out bits but you expect me to be fine and well enough to glide passed those who beg for the scraps of love they are thrown with.

Scraps of love – dirty pieces of nothing that mean nothing to you,you decide to shower me with that and look at me like I’m ungrateful when I decide to rather live off my own love and not just survive the day but actually live it and feel it.

I gave you all of my good love and you claimed to have loved me back yet I watched you rip me apart and feed me my broken pieces. You made me belive that I deserve all the hatred and shallow love you gave me. You disrespected and insulted my love. You tore me down like a fragile insignificant sand castle.

Fears that consume me.

I fear you will see the hate I have for myself and start loving me less because,I walk around like a queen when in reality I think of myself less than a trampled flower petal.

I fear,all this wonderful love we are basking in won’t be enough to heal every part of me and I’ll slip away into death-sucide- and leave you here to feel nothing but all the hurt I am now feeling and wish you never in yur life feel.

I fear you will never see you through my eyes,you won’t know how much I truly and deeply love you because sometimes my eyes blur up from all the tears.

I fear I’ll never be enough for me and that will make you leave and break the tiny bit we were able to mend together into tinier- meaningless no one will ever find- pieces .

My biggest fear is losing you,to the world,to the darkness,to someone else,losing you as a whole. Losing us,the essence of love,losing our love ,your happiness,your smile,your warmth. Lossing your forever :(.

The Wall

Meet the ideal character of me

She has been created because that’s easier than admitting that I have a problem.

I am afraid of the world;all the questions and judgemental eyes.

I had to build a wall.

She -is that perfectly fitting wall that let’s the pain within me float around and eat me up without the distraction of the world.

In black and white my life is perfect,I have a wonderful family ,friends and my academics are extremely good too. My body is the envy of most girls,my size zero jeans make me the girl to talk to.

That painted smile on my face is what connects them to me.

A lie I’ve mastered.

If I’ve got it all why do I need a fake wall that demands so much energy to keep up?

Because the pain is inside

I don’t wear it pinned to my chest and flared on my face

It is not a one day felt emotion that I can just splurge out and hope not to catch again.

No, it does not come and go like a diease

I have succumbed to its flames

It does not feed off me anymore

I have become it .

This wall is for them,my family and friends… the rest of the world.

If I can’t understand my sadness,can’t calm the voices in my head and firgure out how I’m always so sad without a problem at hand they won’t understand the tear marks on my pillow,the bloody wrists I dream of.

They won’t be able to make out the foamy words of my slugged speech-

Pills never seem to work.

The real me comes out late at night ,

Between the cries and the dark thoughts, Mornings are left for last minute break downs as I prepare my wall for another “reality”

I am sad and weakened by it,

My sadness is pain

I am this pain

My heart beats a morbid tune.

My wall is built high and strong

My wall is beautiful

An enchanting lie-my gift to the world.

Broken wall.

I lost my will to live in love

Because love is the reason I stand here broken.

I was once strong

I believed in love, its warmth, forever lasting happiness and all I was waiting for the stranger I was taught to fear and stay away from

I was ready for him to show up and try to rip my heart out while thrusting my innocence away Little did I know that he would emerge within the very walls of love.

The walls of love that were built to keep such out-

You turned on me,my armour of love,used the very love I was born into as a tool to your satisfaction You taught me that there is no such thing as selflessly loving someone else

Because, as a person you will always want to put yourself first even if it means robbing your beloved little girl off her flower,light and all. I once felt secure in your arms,love and all

Today, I am afraid of love

My heart is cold, it beats a tune of hatred

I feel robbed of my light,smile and all

I hate the fact that I am yours

Your blood runs through my veins, keeping this flowerless life i’m living going on and on and on.

Parts of me

I have ugly parts that are governed by dirt.

Dirty parts that feel ugly all day everyday.

There are parts of me I only feel when they beg to be torn apart from the rest of me.

Most parts of my life I feel are blurred by the burning tears of hopelessness.

A heavyness that breaks the poorly mended me.

But a huge part of me is loved effortlessly and graciously.

And that I know because he came into my life when it seemed I was beyond broken and dark days and thoughts twisted one on top of the other.

He saw the mess and felt the bitterly cold wall that I was so determined to keep up between us but with his warmth and sunshine he loved me and I know every part of me deserves to shine.

The butterflies that tickle me each moment I am with him reminds me that I am alive and made up of good parts as much as my mind tricks me into thinking otherwise.

He loves me truly and I love myself,more for opening myself up to all his love which woke my own love.

I have ugly parts that are governed by dirt but loved regardless.

I love you Austin,you are truly a blessing for choosing to share so much of your love with me and for me,for us.

I love the way your eyes sparkle when you look at me,I love how freely and openly you have allowed me to love.

I love you forever and always.

Your love


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