

To be Frank
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
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
to social anxiety,
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
Brownie Points
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.
an expecting visitor
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
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
i don’t know why my mom sent me on that field trip
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.
stone-faced glances
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.
small expectations
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
finish lines
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