I really fucked it up this time didn't I, my dear?: Archive

I really fucked it up this time didn't I, my dear?

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February 2012

27 posts

goodbye, my love - Charles Bukowski

deadly ash of everything we’ve mauled it to pieces ripped the head off the arms the legs cut away the sexual organs pissed on the heart deadly ash of everything everywhere the sidewalks are now harder the eyes of the populace crueler the must more tasteless ash I’m left with pure ash first we pissed on the heart now we piss on the ash.

I may not do sadness, but I certainly do confusion and hurt. I am mad that we never took pictures, because maybe the memories would be trapped in them instead of in my head. I miss you everyday of my life and there is not one thing I can do about it. You have turned me into a stereotypical, heart-broken, angsty teen. And I hate it. Could you please pretend that I am still here, for my sake? How...

I hope you’re smiling cause I might be naked and lonely shaking branches for bones but I’m still time zones away from who I was the day before we met you were the first mile where my heart broke a sweat and I wish you were here I wish you’d never left but mostly I wish you well I wish you my very very best - “Photograph” by Andrea Gibson I do, I wish you my...

Being alone, is probably the worst. Actually, it is most certainly the worst. When I am with my friends I can laugh, and smile, and pretend I’m not broken. When I am. I think about a lot of things, about our memories and our talks of the future. I think about the time we tried to fall asleep kissing, and you told me it wouldn’t work. But it did. And we woke up perfectly locked...

You have left me. With two zits and a broken heart. And man does it hurt. But I have support. Like a sequoia tree trunk. And I have strength. Like steel sheets. And I am going to be ok. Like Ingrid Michaelson. But don’t think I don’t still love you. Because I do.

Dear unnamed sir, Fuck you. I am too good for you, or so they tell me. I give you everything you don’t deserve. I shower you with love and support. And for what? For you to think you have control over me. Well you do not. I may love you, and I may stick with you though everyone tells me I should not. But I will not let you walk all over me. You know I will not give you up that easily,but...

Online Health is, by personal definition, important life skills that every living, breathing, social-interacting person should already know before they take this class. But today, I learned a skill, I’m going to give some examples below. They go like this, “I feel _____ when you _____ because _____.” Pretty basic, right? You can try them with me, if you’d like. I feel...

A friend said some wise words today, I think us youngsters are the only thing love has. Middle-aged married couples, most of the time, don’t love each other because they lose track of how we feel because they stop trying. Love at this age is very possible, you just have to know it when you see it.

Paul McCartney said it best, Maybe I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you. A smart and kind “bro” once said to me, real love doesn’t happen in high school. I do believe I am too young for this, but if i am too young, then what is it?

I read a quote on a coffee cup today, and it really hit me. Never look back, unless it makes you smile. The problem with my sick mind is, he still makes me smile.

Two simple letters, that bring back every memory… I don’t need memories, they suck.

living in a horror film

Life is scary, agree? Fuck it, I don’t need your opinion. It is. Especially when the one you love is not all right, and you cannot do anything to help. You just have to sit and wait.

i am gonna make it, through this year, if it kills...

The book is closed. The chapter is finished. The poem has been completed. And I am in pain. I feel small. But I will heal. Everyone always heals.

Instead of linking you, I shall post some of my favorites. 2 years old and so much has changed, yet so little. Enjoy! (hopefully..)

One day, I feel old. Independent. I should be living on my own, paying for my own, motivating my own. I do that anyway. The next day, I feel 10. So dependent on my parents and my luxuries. Living young and without worries. but that’s not often.

I feel bad that I have not posted in a while. Things are all right, I mostly just want to sleep. To be honest. oh! I found my old blog, from freshman year of high school! I may link you too it. We shall see..

A couple things have happened since I last spoke to you. Ben came home, texted me at 4 in the morning and said unless you’re awake now, I probably won’t see you this time around. He then said, “Sorry for being a dick ‘nd stuff.” Good job, coward, you apologized. So I didn’t see him. Which is for the better. I have been avoiding stalking him on facebook or...

There’s no way you don’t scroll through and see my name and stop. And think about when you loved me. And when we last kissed. And how I grabbed onto your hair. And how I savored every touch. And how we were perfect and young and happy and loved and fucked up. There’s no fucking way.

Said: Well, I’m sorry I didn’t respond on facebook. Life has been hard, but rewarding. Sometimes. I’ll see you in a few weeks. What the fuck am I supposed to gather from that? Fuck.

I messaged him.

That was stupid. I deleted his number from my phone so I wouldn’t have to deal with the temptation. Then I signed online facebook for the first time in forever. I said this: Hope all is well, you’re probably drunk seeing as it’s superbowl night. Perhaps not. I miss you. I shouldn’t be messaging you, but I deleted your number and I’ve been thinking about you a lot...

Do you ever feel?

As though you will never be pretty enough or clever enough for a person? You can say that the one who truly loves you will think you are beautiful or clever or wonderful, but can a person love you without you being those things first? I don’t care what people say, we are humans and we are programmed to be with people we find beautiful and other things. I look in the mirror, and I don’t...

I’m missing him a lot more today than I have in the last week. For many reasons, I know, because I listened to my voicemail box last night and there were 3 from him, calling me babycakes and telling me he missed me. Because I slept alone and cold and sad. Because he doesn’t care. Because I was reading Looking for Alaska again and it got to the part when Miles makes out with Lara on top...

I lay awake, hoping that he’s missing me. But I need to be okay with the fact that he’s probably not. Then I will finally be okay.

January 2012

43 posts

All I’ve ever wanted, is a boy to hold my hand as we lay outside on the outskirts of some city and watch the stars.

You can follow my "un-personal" blog if you'd... →

I am home from school today. To read and watch Skins and just forget everything. I have so much work to do so much homework to make up but I really don’t give a shit. I just want to lay in bed. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

If you guys were wondering, he’s an asshole. And I’m done. Back to square one, back to lonely, back to the beginning. I’m quite tired of this all.

That was written for the same 2-year ex-boyfriend. We don’t speak anymore, and I’m sure it’s for the best. It’s strange to go back and look at where I was, how broken I felt. I promise I am done with the personal poetry spam, for now. I hope you enjoy a peek into my running mind.

The First "Him"

A big fuck you for He who left his memories sprinkled like Ashes Tossed into the ocean on a brisk, fall day Throughout my life Under my covers, On my skin, In my scent, On my doorstep, On every person that meant something to you, when I meant something to you I do not hate you I couldn’t possibly I simply hate the power you have to possess me to whine after all this time Time TIME Like...

That last poem I wrote after my boyfriend for a dysfunctional amount of 2 years broke up with me for the last time. So it’s whiney teenage girl bullshit. But everyone’s felt it.

You used to Love Me But now you’re Gone You have left me with A journal, some Memories, An empty bed, And a couple of heart pieces I have since Closed the journal Blocked out the memories And Glued back the heart As for the bed? I will fill with desperation with empty feelings And boys that try to do me right None of them can do me like You did.

I wrote that poem lying in bed on New Year’s Eve at 10 o’clock in 2011. I was alone and had been invited to one shitty party. My residence is near our city’s downtown, so I sat up and observed the excited passerbys. And wrote. And cried.

A Year Near Satisfaction

Lost In seas of age and self-doubt As I watch newcomers drink to a new year of Love Work Play Knowing tonight will be one not remembered by morning As I watch middle-aged couples drunkenly spill over Each Other Slur words like “Iloveyou” Slop kisses onto Breasts Cheeks Lips Not knowing which is which but knowing that lips belong on such places As I watch old folks taking their...

“Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to...”

– Charles Bukowski

Listen to Graffiti. Rather good laugh, and... →

That poem I wrote after my last ex-boyfriend and I had broken up. I had had a very unhealthy, psychologically abusive previous relationship that left me broken. This boyfriend opened me up, got me to trust and love again. Even though we are broken up, I will always know and love him. He taught me to live.

This poem is for You You who spoke in words that sprouted flowers of hope And I picked each one Like a disrespectful little girl walking through the gardens of her various neighbors on the way home from school And I inhaled that sent perfumes only dream of producing You didn’t stop So neither did I And then you did. This poem is for You You who I thought would never be a poem But you...

I’m going to post more of my poetry, because last time I lost the journal I was poeting in and it was rather devastating when I lost all of my words. So here goes.

I think too much, and love too often. I need to just go. School finish soon..please..

The Sunset Tree - The Mountain Goats

This album helped me figure everything out Sophomore year of High School. Wow. Listening to it is like looking through a photo album. So many memories.

“Thomas Edison’s last words were: “It’s very beautiful over there.” I don’t know...”

– Miles (Looking for Alaska by John Green) (via shutupgloria) Isn’t it strange, how coincidental life can be sometimes. I was told to read this today.

DailyCandy: 21 Most Anticipated Films on Tap at... →

dailycandy: Sorting through more than 100 indie films can be a daunting task. But it’s one we enthusiastically took on. Read on for picks we can’t wait to see and let us know what we left off. Black Rock Katie Asselton’s thriller about a girls’ weekend getaway will hopefully be more Deliverance than …