Don't show weakness. Don't show pain. Hold it in.

FREAK-THE-FUCK-OUT-EXPLODE

You can do this. Take it all in stride. You're ok. You're fine. You've got this.

OMG-I'M-A-FUCKING-MESS

That's my pattern. I'm ok, until I'm not... And then at that point, I'm good at faking it, until I'm not... and then everything explodes. And it's ugly and messy. I go from zero to HOLY-FUCK-I'M-LOSING-IT in an instant. "Someone" recently called it an exploding volcano. Yup.

i don't like that I am like this, but in the past, I wasn't allowed to show weakness or break. There was no time for that. I had to be in charge and I learned to stuff everything down, grin and bare it. It was necessary, but obviously unhealthy.

Learning to open up and share this part of me, has been extremely challenging and one that must be painful to witness. I try to reassure that I'm fine and that I'm handling everything... But then I explode. With the explosion comes a multitude of emotions...

Shame.
Embarrassment.
Guilt.
Fear.

Who wouldn't feel those emotions after behaving like a perfectly self-respecting adult and then breaking down into an exploding ball of emotions?

I don't know how to change after so many years of living one way. I am encouraged to be honest and my emotional state is never used against me. I know this... But old habits die hard, and for the past 15 years my emotions were rarely the concern of others. But that's not the case now, and tqhere are pieces built into my dynamics so that I share my emotional state regularly.

I know that when I now try to play down my emotional state, it does more damage than good. I imagine it appears like I don't trust, or in trying to prepared or that I'm trying to hide for reasons that are not honourable. But it's none of those. I'm simply bad at it. Horrible. And I often don't even realize I was holding back until I explode.

I think I am getting better. I'm think I'm better able to observe my emotions and relay them honestly without worry of how it can affect the other person. But I have a long way to go. The shame I feel after an outburst is all encompassing and it motivates me to do better...

Hopefully I get to the point where the outburst can be prevented because I was able to relay my emotions accurately leading up or at least the outburst will be predictable because there were indicators leading up. And when they had that information, they can potentially guide or advise or at least have a head's up.

But that day wasn't yesterday...

It will take more than a year to undo what has been done but I'm self aware and not afraid of hard work. Someday I hope to be better. Someday I will be.

i dont belong to anyone

The myth is they are sad lonely women, just waiting to prey on poor unsuspecting faithful men. Can't get their own, have to steal, homewrecking harlot. Trollop, hussy, bad girl.

Like these men are innocent. As long as there is a roamer with a hard on, we will exist. We dont want happily ever after. We don't want the kind of love yall have, that long term warts and all. No, thank you.

We want the best parts, the juicy parts. Parts you see but have to temper with the smelly shoes and shitty attitudes. You get those because obligation. We are choice.

Slam on the easy side piece. We don't give two shits. Not like we are gonna stop. Not like it means anything to whatever your man says to me.

I probably never watched the same cartoons and never heard the same jokes. We had different drinks, different nights spent in ecstasy, different monsters to be scared of, different breakfasts. People don't believe me but even the same belief systems work different in other places, places you don't even know they exist. The way you made certain things a joke, it's still on its baby steps for me, it still matters, don't ruin it for everyone...

We don't have shared histories, they aren't even similar. You'd be surprised if you found one thing similar. And yes I know, *this is what makes the world great.* Well, it's not entirely true. It also makes things difficult but I've never been into people who aren't up for a challenge.

I didn't do the things you did, didn't learn the things you learned but I haven't lived in a glass box. I'm not vain enough to tell them constantly, you'll have to trust that I did. And maybe I can't even tell, sometimes words fail me, you have no idea how it feels. There are a lot of things that are lost in translation, a whole life. Lots of bits that don't fit in, pushing them is useless and I refuse to push.

You have to focus on intentions.

You have to trust their silence.

You lied.  

You told me you weren't made like others. You told me you needed your walls. That it kept you safe. That it was best for everyone. I liked that.

But it was a lie. Did you not know that you could let people in? Or was it a lie that you felt safe telling yourself?

Did you not understand that sometimes, despite our pasts, we can't predict our path. We can't always protect our hearts. We can't always shield others from our pain.

Were you that jaded that it blinded you from seeing what was happening? 


That not only can you let someone in, that you did. I know you put your back against the wall and assured yourself that no one could get in...

But somehow, I slipped in.  

But why did you allow me? I didn't ask to. Why did you do it? Why did you do this to me?  

Because I don't think the problem isn't that you won't let people in. The problem is that once in, they can't get out.

And now you're hurting the one you love... You should never have allowed. I liked your walls. They made me feel safe... But now I feel trapped inside and I just don't know.

I see you.

I don't see all your pieces.  

I don't need to. I know your character and your heart.  

No, I won't try to save you. Nor rescue. Nor peek inside.

But see this place right here? Where you are at?

That's where I'll meet you.

By your feet. Kneeling. Waiting. Allowing myself to take root.

Because someday, your hand will reach out... searching... And I will be there.  

Welcoming my reward.

I will never ask. My language is silence. 

Observing only with my eyes and heart.

My body willing and available. Aching to be useful, but knowing that the time is not now.

So please don't deny me my place.  

Because while I was waiting here, at your feet, your roots grew too.

And I don't know how to undo what has been done. I don't know how to separate myself from you. 

So please don't ask me to walk. Just let me rest here, for awhile longer.

For it is where I belong and all I ever remember knowing.

Responding to my private confession,

She whispered through tears,

“There exists no greater lie

Than for you to say that you love me.

You may feel your heart aching

Within a weaker moment,

But come the stronger light of day,

The world bearing upon your shoulders,

You will deny that you ever

Enfolded my hand in yours.

I know truth to be bolder than this,

Harder and more frustrating.

Its concealment is difficult and flawed;

You hide the flame beneath a basket

And it burns the whole damn house.

But this, this is an easy lie

You turn affection on like a switch,

Illuminating a dark room.

Once you find what you are seeking

You turn it off again.”

I spoke nothing more to her

And cast my eyes upon the ground

The house was already burned,

My clothes and hair smelled

Strongly of smoke and gasoline.

And still I remained a coward.

For the fire I had set burned all night,

But come morning was ashes and pitch.

I'm ashamed of how i act, how i give in, how i say things i don't want to say.

Words that make me clench my thighs while i hold in my sighs, merely an exercise in the act of denies.

I deny i love it, i deny that i want it, i deny that it makes me wet and ashamed that i can't deny the reprise, reprieve, wanting to receive bit twisting so madly when i don't.

Slowly but surely as if i'm binding myself, i spin the lies, i spin the truth, i spin myself into the mental state i want.

Low is where i go, when the hand won't go, i put my neck to it, bend to it, reach at it.

No hands to reach out, it holds itself open, wanton and waiting and just out of reach, too open for hunt, too hidden to prey

Can't make me, can't force, can't mitigate what i do to destruct and destroy myself, hold myself open to retaliate none and not one.

I dont need much, i dont seek much, a psychological straight man, an emotional blank, a point where i imagine and manipulate what i need from nothing.

I extrapolate, deisgnate and terminate. No one can get too much too close too far because i detonate before i designate

We claim sisterhood

As if a prize, allegiance

to a known idea

forgetting that said

Is so unsaid

so low below iceberg deep

Cold as ice, janus smile

We can't borrow clothes

so we borrow of each other

osmosis of sorts

pathology chosen

Digs, screenshots, jabs

She said she said she said

Ten rounds, not a mark

that one can see

but man, those bitches can

Land a spar, hit a hook

throw in the towel

She was on the balcony, sunset behind her. Sitting on the edge of the chair, like she'll leave in a minute. She had nowhere to go, at least for tonight. She took a sip and put the glass on the floor next to her feet. Her hair looked shiny resting delicately on her shoulders.

The weight of her breasts, the way they sat in her dress... And how they touch his chest when she's on top of him. How her nipples brush against his skin. While her red, needy lips reach for his mouth, kissing surrounded by her hair. Grabbing her waist, tangled in her hair, breathless.

Her hands, the same hands that explored his body countless times. One reaching down to pick up the glass and other rested on her knee. The way she touched her knee... Just like how she touches his leg when she's on her knees in front of him. Her soft touch and his rough handling, her delicate hair in his fist, forcing her head down, more, more.. While her hand still touches his leg softly. The way she stared into the glass.. She wasn't aware of the emptiness she could cause if she just left now.

She softly pushed her legs together to fit the glass between them. Her legs. When he sees her legs, he could only think of how she wraps them around him. Pulling him deeper, pulling him desperately because she wants more of him. She'd whimper and beg, push and pull, scream "no" and whisper "yes". Because she desperately wants more of him. He finds happiness in her fragile desperation.

She put the glass on her lip, took a last big sip of her drink closing her eyes. She opened her eyes like a different person. He could see her feet were cold from the way she put them on top of each other. You could tell a whole story between her bare shoulders and cold little toes. His favourite book.