Despite all my rage...
The anger just won't go away. There are questions here, because there's definitely more to this than meets the eye:
- Am I mad at him for caring in a way that makes me feel small and unsteady?
- Am I mad at myself for caring about what other people think?
- Is it the complete loss of control that's given me a massive headache?
- Is my unhappiness pervading every single aspect of my life right now?
- Is every single aspect of my life raiding my happy place like a crew of pirates hitting a coastal town?
- Why can't I rise above my circumstances and be a proper adult?
- Why can't I quit my job?
- Why do I care and how do I make it stop?
Stop. Stop thinking and start living. Start being yourself.
Stop. Breathe. Remember.
Lather, rinse, repeat. I am so full of shit.
Advice is something I give without taking. Advice does not help me find the answers I am looking for. I don't know how to turn it off, the fear that drives me to all the wrong choices and places. Nothing I tell myself makes me less afraid of failure. It drives me up the wall, that I'm such a coward. In books, I am a hero on a noble quest; in real life I'm a bit of a character, but nothing about me screams "brave" - I've purposefully misplaced my megaphone.
I stand on a soapbox, but I whisper and mumble to myself. I am not anyone's voice, not even mine. I had bigger dreams of a bigger me. Then he yells and I crumble and do the walk of shame without reason. Because nothing I did today warrants guilt or takes away from every moment of every day that I have shown myself to be a responsible person.
Time and again I prove I am boring. Sometimes, I want to be the one in charge, because fuck fate! If I let go, I worry constantly. Something inside - something both childlike and ugly - dreads the prospect that I would dare to defy authority. I know rules were made to be broken, but I can never let myself be the one to go full-on punk rock chorus on my punk-ass schedule. I am such a fraud to the teenage skin I used to walk around in. I couldn't wait to shed it, what with the extra weight and the infinite sadness... So, now what?
I'm hungry for more. I want to be more, be better. I want nicer clothes, cooler hair and a life of my own. I want to move out. I want to dive in. I want to forgive and go forward and be unafraid. I want to be in charge and the fact that I'm not makes me see red. Everyone has dibs, wants a piece of me, but I'll be damned if I don't steal the pie away sooner or later. Hopefully sooner, because later isn't now and "now"isn't working anymore. The present is broken and I'm looking for a quick fix. The future can't get here fast enough for me to regret it.
I'm angry and I have questions. God never calls me back. Worst. Date. Ever.
My First Time [tw: rape]
[this is an acrostic poem, so the first letters of every line make a word/words]
I wanted it.
Saved it for long enough!
Anyway, virginity's just an idea;
It wasn't a big deal.
Didn't even really know the guy.
No idea why I had been so nervous,
Only regret not doing it sooner!
The Shadow People
We swallow unspoken words
Like moldy bread,
The secrets eat us from the inside
Until parts of our bodies dislodge and
Blow into the wind.
I'll never tell you that I don't love you.
You'll never tell me that you lost yourself
Somewhere along Highway One,
Your heart hanging from the tree limbs
Overlooking the Pacific.
We used to feel so invincible
That phrases tumbled from our tongues,
Overt and pregnant with promises.
Now we have to look for
Ourselves in the cracks
And crevices of crumbling landmarks.
We used to feel so significant
That our shadows could have
Been painted on postage stamps.
Now we have to press
Our fingers to our faces
Just to be certain We still exist.