its so crazy. I’m surrounded by people but I’m so lonely. I’m so alone. none of them actually know me and know my thoughts and habits. they just know what i choose to show and let peek out. this loneliness is my own fault tho. i can’t and won’t let myself show. i won’t let people see the whole me. the broken sad me. the girl with the issues and hang ups. i don’t want to have to face the judgement, the way they’ll all treat me different just because of it all. i can’t stand the thought of scaring them away.
so i bottle it down. hold it in. smile and pretend I’m fine for as long as i can. then i quietly self destruct. i curl into a ball of blue feelings and let my heart pour from my eyes in an attempt to feel alright. i sit alone in the dark and face it all on my own because the fear of help is too overwhelming and crippling, that id rather face this alone than risk losing the people i love…
i miss the comfort i found in your voice
the understanding in your eyes
as you watched me break down and cry
the love in your touch when you held me
as i buried my head in your chest
and never wanted to move
i miss how you held me
deep into the night
softly stroking my back
until my sobs and gasps grew quiet
and my body got slack
how you still held me tight
even as i toss and turned all night
how i woke up in your embrace
and the first thing i saw was that smile on your face
i miss how we talked
into the night and early day
you listened to my voice, told me id be alright
but then it changed
more became less
all the time became rarely
the distance grew larger and understanding grew smaller
instead of drying my eyes
you became the reason i cried..
my secret addiction
my most favorite affliction
i cant sm to keep you away
but…i cant seem to make you stay
i have a sick addiction to learning the hard way. i like the pain of having my heart broken. why? because it reminds me that I’m still alive. that I’m not some empty shell walking through a misty world pretending to be some happy girl. that I’m actually here, i actually have some kind of substance left.
see I’m so broken that I’ve forgotten how it feels to be whole. to be a normal person full of joy. to wake up with a smile, feeling light and carefree. I’m so used to the heavy weight, the suffocating darkness that i crave it now. any break from it scares me. sends me back running to it. the comfort of the pain. its familiar.
I’m accustomed to people using and abusing me. id rather be hurt by the person i expect it rom than by the person i least expect it from. id rather give pieces of myself to people than give my whole self to one person and be left alone…because i can handle the small pain. i can handle my addiction in small doses. but the pain of being hurt by someone id never expect it from is just too much for my mind to handle. too much for me to carry on my shoulders…but at the same time i find myself wanting it. wanting to see if i can handle it. wanting to see if i can take the soul crushing heartbreak. in fact a sick part of me looks forward to it. to the terms, the sobs, the shaking in my limbs and the sleepless nights. because in those small broken moments ill know one thing for certain I’m alive.
Hey granny. It’s been ten years since you took your place amongst the Angels. I’m writing this letter around free flowing tears and soft sobs. This weeks has been so hard for me. I’ve been quietly holding it in. I want to visit your grave. I want to sit and talk to you. Catch you up on all the things you missed. I miss you. You were the backbone to this family, the glue. When you left it all fell apart so hard. You left us and we lost ourselves. We fought and argued, unraveled and disappeared. Mommy moved us to the other side of the country, away from everything we’ve ever known. But you know that already. I can feel you watching over us daily.
Are you proud of me? I know I made some mistakes but I’m trying to change, I promise I am. I know I was off my path but I’m back. I just want to make you and everyone proud. Are you proud? Proud of the women I grew up to become? Proud of who I’ll still become?
I miss you so much granny. You’ve missed so much. Prom. Graduation. College. Milestones of my life that I wish I had you by my side for. I wish you were here, close. Wish I could just pop up at your house, sit on your couch and talk to you about life. Wish you could hear my problems and help me grow. We had such a short time together granny. Three short years that I’ll always cherish. Three years I spent thinking we had all the time in the world left.
I wish it wasn’t you. I wish the cancer would have left, at least gave you more time. It was so short. So painful. So long. I lost you and felt like I lost a big piece of myself. But….I still feel you granny. I still feel you when the family gets together. Still feel you when I listen to Christmas soul music. Still feel you when I look at my aunties. I know you’re gone but you’re here. I love you granny.
See the last nigga I loved was the only nigga I loved. But then I wonder did I really love him? And I realize yes. Yes I did. With every emotional and mental fiber in my body. I craved the sound of his voice, his laugh, hearing him call me baby girl sent chills down my spine and warmed my heart. The last nigga I loved made me feel more alive than I’ve ever been. See I’m damaged and broken. I rarely let people in. I push and I push and I finally opened for him and it was the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. I felt accepted. Whole. Like I meant something. He saw in me what I never could. He fed my ego and mended my soul. Talking to him was like a drug that couldn’t get enough of. I wanted him all the time. His drive and ambition drove me crazy. Hearing speak on his dreams and goals. Listening to him talk business. Tell me about his plans and achievements. And it wasn’t in a bragging way. It was in a I want you to be apart of every part of my life. And I drank it up like it was water and I was dehydrated.
My ex changed me. Molded me and shaped me. Made me better. More secure and confident. With him I felt amazing. I could call him at anytime for any reason. I ran to him for everything and he was there to catch me and listen. He made my problems his problems and it was greater than anything I’ve ever had. Instead of running from the hell I called my life he stayed. He held me down like no nigga had before.
I wanted him forever. All I saw was him. Nobody else. I was so wrapped up in him I couldn’t see clearly. I was drunk on his affection and love and I never wanted to sober up…
in love with the idea of love
so I’m constantly rushing into love
giving up my body
letting every man wear me
fitting inside me so nicely
i almost forget why I’m so lonely
feeling a body beside me
even if its temporary
pleases me and boosts me
ignoring the fact that he don’t belong to me
i pretend to be happy
with these stolen moments
and hidden secrets
letting myself get treated like an option
and not a priority
i convince myself this is right
even as i cry to myself at night
I’m so in love with the idea of love
that I’m rushing into love
ignoring the proper route
signs and guidance
giving the world
and then some
to someone who cant do the same
but that’s what comes with the part i play
the hopeless romantic
who’s so lonely
she’ll do anything to make a man stay