What if.

What if I never sleep?  What if my days are forever filled with writings of sad poems and heart break? Getting emotions out on paper to be shared secretly. If I never sleep I will never see the sun burn my eyes as they try to stay shut. Never wanting to open because seeing can hurt too much. Stuck in the same mind frame as yesterday. If I sleep forever, I will dream of flying. I would fly so high, that stars would become my skin tone. That the milky way would be my bed and the planets would be my forever form of entertainment. If I sleep and never wake I will never hear the I can't or I won't. The I'm not good enoughs or I'm not as good as. Pillows as soft as clouds and blankets caressing every curve. To keep my eyes close and be blind to my own pain and falsely believe in future hope.

If I never sleep I would become a walking zombie feeding on tears and soft blankets. If I never wake I will be free.

P.A.T.

Happy ending

There is no such thing as a happy ending just an ending with no beginning only lost in the middle. There is no such thing as a happy ending only broken promises and false claims of love and trust. There is no such things as a happy ending only tears soaking in white pillows leaving stains for you to see when you wake. Reminders of broken hearts and ruined dreams. Faint touches of warm embraces and soft kisses never to be felt again. The moon  falls and the sun rises to remind you that the happy ending you dreamt of was a memory of hope. A memory only to erase once eyes open and tears fall seeing the truth of what lays ahead. Wishing. Hoping. Praying. Yet and still the lingering pain is burned in your skin so you may never forget that there is no such things as a happy ending.

P.A.T.

Make up

To say that I am thankful for make up would be insane but see I'm so self conscience without it.  Look in the mirror everyday and pray to see a different face.. I conceal my crying lines and powder my nose to hide the scars.. Fill my brows then lighten my cheeks so my frown seems so distant even to me. I look for the second time and I'm someone else. Someone beautiful but truly a complete mess. The make up hides who I truly am. The make up helps me become a person with no fear. A person who may actually become someone important. Then the night comes. My heart is heavy and my mind is cloudy. All I can think about is the ugly reflection I will soon by staring at. What happen to the lighten cheeks and bright eyes from the day? Wiping away the mascara and foundation. The light is so bright when pointing out each and every flaw. Making sure I never forget how truly ugly my scars really are. I close my eyes wishing to see someone else when I open them. Wishing to see beauty instead of what has become. Buying new make up to hid imperfections and highlight golden beauty. Though golden beauty seems to never reign. Maybe if I try this technique or maybe this product.. The end result never change. I wipe it off and still I remain, with no peace of mind of a changing game. The next day I still hid my imperfections. 

P.A.T. 

I have more bad days than good.. They seem to come more frequently now. I thought I found the cure. Something to rid me of all the tears. I was wrong. I'll wake in the morning and I'll be better.. I pray. 

Riddle me this.

Am I enough? I am terrified that I am not. I am not enough. I am not the wanted or needed. I am the filler of only a second. When my second is up it will take yet a life time to fill another. Up and down battles with self and others. Heartbreak and headaches for years that seem to never end. Why when I wake I feel like I'm dying? Why when I sleep I feel like I am alive? I am not me. I am not myself. How can I find myself when I have been lost for so many years? Days, weeks, months have past and yet I am in the same phase I was last year. The same tears burn my cheeks as they reach my neck. The same alcohol touches my lips to soothe my mind. I hear how can you expect different result when you continue to do the same things. Well I tried something new once. I threw away every old piece of me and decided to become someone.. Only to find out I was becoming someone that wasn't me. I was more depressed at that time then I've ever been in the past. Alone and broken in half still not repaired. Funny how everyone loves to tell you to stay the same but then you must change in order to evolve. Here I am, asking you which is it? Must I change.. Or am I enough? 

Tiny seeds

Im writing to you in my hour of need. This is my minute of comfort in a second of regret. Explain to me the error of my ways. Help me to see what damage I have done. I can not see through these rose colored glasses of mine. The light pink and soft reds paint a subtle yet daring picture of lust and pain. Leaving ripped edges and burnt corners on the canvas. Pain can be poisonous yet enticingly sweet like a strawberry once bitten. The small seeds build in your throat unknowingly trying to suffocate you but leave your lips tingling. Take another bite and slowly taste the deep red and sweet bliss of this new obsession. The touch of hands to backs to lips to thighs all seemed like a good idea at the time. But see that's when the damage started. Now I don't know if it was you or me but soon after we allowed our lust to take over. In that time, that short period of lust, pain gently caressed our necks with passionate holds so tight that we just thought this was bold and intriguing. A new form of excitement that needed to be explored. I didn't realize at the time that this new journey would have me bleeding from my eyes and unable to catch my breath. I was drowning in this new excitement that was going way to fast for me. As days continue, I try to see the error of my ways. The damage I had done. Only to realize it was the sweet tiny berry seeds that took us out. 

Second.

I forget where I am for half a second. I feel free and warm then cold and alone. I have this dream where I'm falling. I never hit the ground, I wake up confused and unsure. Being unsure is a very familiar feeling I have. Ideas swaying one way to another never really making sense or connecting to an ultimate point. Just swaying. I myself have been swaying for years never connecting with my true being. Never connecting with my heart. I lean towards what's comfortable for other people and how to stay under the radar. Never wanting to be the spotlight or the closing curtain. Staring at the ceiling is nauseating. Maybe because my eyes glance in many directions or many because my mind is racing with thoughts of the day. What happens when all you have is the silence? The deafening silence. Hearing your own breath. Hearing your own heartbeat. Sometimes I forget where I am and it's terrifying. Lost in my own mind and the only way out is to wake up but my fear of falling is too great so I sleep and never touch the ground. 

P.A.T. 

Petals.

What happens when you allow the need for love change how you view yourself? What happens when you allow someone to hurt you continuously because you think they love you and in the end it will get better? How is it that in the beginning it's horrible. I know that storm comes before the rainbow but I feel like this is a month long hurricane and in the end there will be nothing but reckage to clean. Reckage that you will be cleaning on your own. How is it that your vision of how your life should be is over shadowed by the vision of how your life is forced to be? Forced by a person who in the beginning wasn't suppose to be there. A person who for this whole time hasn't shown you one reason as to why your life should change and alter to fit them. My life is mine. Shouldn't it fit me? Shouldn't it make me feel good to wake up? I never want to wake because I will be alarmed with not a clock but continuous words of fuck ups. Words telling me that I am not doing anything right. I shouldn't put my personal dreams, wants and wishes ahead of this person. I should stop everything I am doing to make sure this person can fullfill their obligations. Only to leave mine to dust.  Never growing within myself. I am under the ground only brought to the surface to make you look good. I am the flower that only gets watered when it's raining. Too bad I'm a house plant. I never feel the sun touch my petals because you want me closed in. What happens when I lose all my bright petals? Will you still want me or will the thought of me only being a green stem not as pleasing? I am in a corner only to bloom when you say it's okay. Only to be watered by you but you seem to be missing a few days. I wasn't as bright the day before last and well you plucked a petal off to show who was still in charge. I guess you showed this little small house plant. But what happens when I allow my weeds to grow? What happens when my weeds become thick and thorns are all around, how will you pluck my petals then?  When my thorns pierce your finger tips and blood begins to drip, you will then feel the sting of resentment . The very thing you are trying to keep hidden for yourself, is fighting for it's soul. Those gorgeous orange petals.