to be frank, i'm scared of getting into my next relationship.

with my last relationship, my mental health was distraught because of it and my feelings faded towards the end and it was hard to speak my mind.

i'm scared bc the way i reacted towards my first relationship i knew i would 100% say yes if this guy (now my ex) asked to be my bf.

but the guy I'm talking with right now, that I like, has a lot of the qualities i like and i feel easy to talk to and i like hanging out with him on ft and gaming etc. I feel unsure and scared if he were to ask me.

Idk if it's bc i'm scarred from my last one and scared I have rose tinted glasses on so now I wear pessimistic glasses?

There's so many doubts I have.

I think I just need to go on actual dates/hangouts with this guy and then I'll be able to know.

I hope?

It's just scary bc while I'm trying to figure out my feelings, he's flirting and giving obvious signs.

I'm just more scared he'll ask me before I have a clear answer in my head, I don't want to rush into a relationship like my last one that ended poorly

Anywho.. I'm going on a hangout (we never called it a date) tomorrow with him to see Dr. Strange.

tbh I'm very excited cause I've never hung out one-on-one with him before

o i pray its not awkward

this is such a cringe confession.

i miss kissing people.

Dating,

I think I'm scarred for the most part

Even if you hate them

you still think it's your fault

although you tell yourself

you needed that "life lesson"

you somehow wish you

could protect yourself from the past

Dating,

you quickly realize happily-ever-after

doesn't come often

and fate seems to hide in the shadows

Dating,

how i want to go back to those days

that i thought everything would work out

where i wanted to scream from the rooftops my love

but no

you question whether love exists

or if what you see online and in books

is all just fake

make-believe

what do you gain from whispering in my ear and tugging at the back of my mind?

i want to be free of you. i want to break up.

we're breaking up.

i'm saying it now before summer ends and you come chasing after me when i go to college. i'm sure we'll meet again, although our reunion won't be filled with laughter but of tears and phone calls home.

please let me be the first one to speak and not to listen, for if i hear your words, i'm not sure if i'll be able to speak a sound.

you laughed and pointed at me when i presented, you whispered whenever i sat alone at lunch, you mimicked anytime i stuttered.

we've been together all our lives, but now it is time to part ways.

goodbye social anxiety

Mrs. Duncan always gives Emma extra brownie points. Mrs. Duncan always gives Emma extra brownie points because she doesn’t have a dad. I wish I didn’t have a dad. Who wants a dad anyways? I told Mrs. Duncan that Emma could have my dad and I could take her brownie points instead. Mrs. Duncan told me that was a horrible thing to say and that she wasn’t giving Emma extra brownies points because she didn’t have a dad. She must have realized I had the better part of the deal.

I wish I didn’t have a dad.

I wish I had a dad like Emma did. One that was dead and couldn’t hit me when mom went out at night.

A new room

ready to be filled,

remains empty

gifts returned unused

furniture sold untouched

a name lingers unspoken

a heartbeat now silent

memories stay

our expected visitor

never arrived

she changes everyday

sometimes a lot

sometimes little

her eyes,

they know more

than they did before.

the shadows

beneath them, weigh

her down with

"growing up"

a disease that has yet

to find its cure

she changes everyday

sometimes i don't remember

what she looked like

the day before

her eyes,

red and puffy.

the shadows

over her head

have darker.

she changes everyday

sometimes she doesn't appear,

that little girl in the mirror.

though she's not really

little anymore.

disease groans in her veins

and in vain she resists,

that little girl in the mirror.

she changed everyday

until one day she was gone

My eyes are tight shut. My arms wrapped tightly around my 2nd grade teacher. I can hear their wings beating the air as they rush past us.

I swallow.

I walk blind through the course. Mrs. Hughes as my stick. We inch forward, slower than the other kids my age, laughing as they run up ahead.

My muscles are tight as I feel their small bursts of wind as they fly by. My knees nearly locked.

"Who wants a butterfly kiss?"

I open my eyes just a little to see a tour guide with a butterfly on the top of her hand. The other kids put their hand out as she lets the butterfly touch each hand.

I don't move. My muscles are frozen as I see the enclosing around me. Flying like driverless cars are hundreds of butterflies.

My brain went on overload. My ears popped. I could barely hear in one ear, and the other rang with a electrifying pain. Crying, my teacher rushed me out of the butterfly exhibit of Butterfly World.

I don't know why my mom sent me on that field trip. I wasn't joking when I told her I was afraid of butterflies.

i think sometimes the hardest can be the hello after you've said goodbye for the last time.

when you walk up to them but there's no recognition of you in their face. They say nothing and barely care to look up at you, if they could look up at you. After all, you were only talking to a stone in hopes that what lay beneath your feet would listen.

i hide in a shell

of small expectations

it protects me

from the reality

that surrounds

when i feel brave

i peek out

just to let people know i'm there

but once i'm seen

i sneak back in

i hide in a broken shell

of small expectations

light seeps through

its cracks

my eyes memorized

by what lies beyond

unbearable truth

a burden i don't want to bear

the fear of disappointment

of failure

of not living up

to great expectations

so

i hide in my transparent shell

of small expectations

we're all going to die in the end

don't be a sore loser

when I get to the finish line faster

you've never even tried to understand how i feel

i'm not ill, or mentally unstable

i'm completely alive

but

i'm slowly

dying

the finish line wraps about my neck

a tear trailing to the corner of my mouth

i'm smiling

i let go of it all

the finish line tightens

and i've won