11/28/2011

Dear Jerk Who Tore Me Apart Boy,

I wanted to let you know that it's almost been a year since I left you. I ran as far away from you as I could and I've never made a better decision. Yes, I still think of you, but all the good memories are tainted with my new perspective of you. You had your arms around my throat so tight and all I did was smile and kiss you as I slowly suffocated. I want you to know that I don't miss you. I'm not thinking of your kiss or the way you looked at me because that would be poison to my brain and I'm working so hard to get it out of my bloodstream.

I also wanted to let you know that I'm in love right now and I think he's the man I want to be with forever. One of the things I love about him is he's not you in any way. He treats me the way I deserve and he doesn't make me want to slit my wrists and burn like you did. He makes me feel safe and the things that move are kept as bay when he's near. I'm so safe with him, he doesn't make me fall into the darkness alone. I want you to know that he succeeded where you failed.

Boy, you aren't in my head anymore. I just wanted to say "goodbye".

Regards,
Persona

1/21/11

Pool Particles
  There are leaves at the bottom of the pool like silver sand sharks. They only move with the rippling water, poised in fake action, looking for unsuspecting pool particles.
  I want to know what it would feel like to lay at the bottom of a pool, or a lake or the ocean, and look up into the distorted sun. Motionless except for the wave of my hair billowing around me. Frozen in time, listening to the profound silence, nothing on the brain. Nothing on the brain.

2/17/11

Self Evaluation
Now that I've moved to my new place of residence, I feel like I have a better understanding of myself, or rather, I'm more okay with myself. Self evaluation at the moment, I'd say my hair and face are less of an issue. Body wise I'm pretty confident, although there are things I'd like to change. I'm on the path of repentance and I think I can continue to get better and progress. I'd like to get into school but also focus a lot on my writing. I'm tired right now.

1/20/11

Fire
The journey changes, first she's earth, then water, now fire. Full of burning Passion and desire. She's red and cold and smoldering down. But now like a phoenix, she burns down to nothing to start over again. She's alone for now, but that's fine, because its hard to notice when you're on fire.

1/03/11

Clean Chalk Board
  So I believe that I'm making progress. The urge seems faint, the fire not so big, I wish I could extinguish it altogether, but then life would suck later.
  This is the time when things start to change, to move, because I'm moving. It's a new year, I'm going to a new place, its time for me to start over. Fresh, hopefully clean. It's so hard to tell when I feel like the line has been disconnected. Just that hollow beeping tone, I can't feel it anymore. Please, make my heart soft, let me hear You again.
    I feel so scared but sometimes you've got to jump into something for your own good and hopefully you'll be too distracted by what's happening that you won't think about later, about the past.
  I'm a chalk board wiped clean, I hope thing next thing written is a beautiful word, no obscenities, no melancholy phrases. Let it be good. Let me be good.

12/05/10

Eight Legged Freaks
Looking back at what I've said earlier I think, "who is this person who writes these? How come she keeps changing every time. I'm different tonight then I was last time I wrote.
  Is anyone going to read this? Will I ever be brave enough? Maybe its not bravery, maybe its apathy. I don't care if you read into my soul, just don't tell my parents.
  It's funny how parents spend so much of there time taking care of us and protecting us and now I feel like I should protect them from what's bad out there. No, you shouldn't read that, its not appropriate, it might even make you sad.
  The reason I won't talk to them about any of my problems or worries is not because I don't love them. It's because they're so busy and so stressed out that I don't want to make them have to worry about more things. I'll try to be as low matinence as I can.
  I just lost my train of thought. Not that these are following any kind of flow anyway. What was I going to say? I can't remember now. Time to go to bed because my eyeballs are burning and I'm afraid a spider is going crawl on me. I'm sorry, you have eight legs and are gross, so you deserve to die.

12/04/10

We Won't Burn
I'll make you stop, look, and listen this time. There's nothing more pronounced than red. It sure makes a statement, especially when its dripping off my body. Next time, you think, because it takes two to tango and I really need some help stopping.
  When you start a fire, it really catches fast, and it's hard to stop. Burning to the core that leaves a smoldering passion in the center. Deeper and deeper you go and I can't but help falling with you. Untie me and let me climb back up because by the light is where I want to be when it all ends. Until then I'll light a candle and sit by myself, because if I sit next to you I burn.
  Time to recreate again, tear it down, just like I sang before. Now it starts, the constant worry, sick twisting feeling that makes me spin inside. You don't have to worry because only I get the consequence.
  Self, sleep tonight and don't dream. Don't feel, don't move, and don't burn. We have to wake up tomorrow, there's no doubt because we don't want to be stuck in the dark alone. Not tonight, not ever. So sleep, then wake. Smile and fake till its time to sleep again. No one wants to sympathize, empathize, realize that you're alone for now. Close your eyes so you can be closer to your next chance.
  Tomorrow, my dear Self, will be better. We'll be better. We won't burn.

11/25/10

Turkey Day Basking
  I see all these effing colors on the screen that make up this white page that looks at me. Blues, reds, a barf orange color. I wonder if people ever have orange barf and its all super bright.
  It doesn't matter, I haven't barfed in a while. I have feelings tonight, tomorrow being thanksgiving. I am thankful for the good things that I have. I like to say thank you for my problems too.
  Thank you that I have something to fix, something to worry about, something to figure out. Something to make me feel so sad that I feel like dying. Thank you, because if I had never had any of those kinds of experiences and felt that kind of pain, what would we have to compare our joys too?
  If we were happy all the time, if nothing went wrong, then we wouldn't be as thankful for our happiness. We wouldn't be able to feel the happy side of the spectrum if there is no opposite side.
  Thank you for letting me hurt and cry, bleed and scream, burn with rage and hold myself and beg for the end. Because now I can smile, and bask in the simple joy of it. Smile and say thank you.

11/09/10

White-Knuckled Driving
Ooh its rage, baby, that lights me up inside, makes me burn. Jaw set tight and fingers grip the wheel. White knuckles like back when I was starting to drive. Stare straight forward, don't you say a word. I can handle an awkward silence, can you?
  When you're placed there with the decision, to do or not to do? You usually do. Or at least I. I, with my passion, my lust, my fire that seems unquenchable, untameable. I hope those are real words.
  Creativity likes to dance around me. Through my head, sparking an idea then back out my fingertips before I have time to trap it into media. It teases and agitates me. Body, don't you disobey me, don't be temperamental."I don't feel like it today". Well too bad, I'm picking up the pencil so you better get started.
  I'm feeling that restlessness again. That creeping sensation that starts in the back of my head and works its way down over my body. Something new to explore? A mouth to taste? A road to walk, or drive, in my case. I'm not allowed to walk by myself.
  So now when you're holding on to wrist, no, my ankle. Dragging me with you, I want to fly, to keep walking somewhere new. This is not where I'm supposed to end up, I know that, so don't you dare glue me to my spot.
  Don't you dare.

11/04/10

Shortest In The Room
Pretty tired tonight so I won't write very long. I can hardly even concentrate. I don't like being lied to. Just fess up. Seriously.