hello it's me again, i would put a name if i had one, i used to have a name, and i used to have a face too. i remember my old name:
associated with nothing but bad memories-
associated with what used to be happy memories but became black, overloomed by the darkness of what is my present and what was my past.
important to no one, abused by everyone
i belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone who had nothing: who wanted everything. with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom.
traveling alone, thats never any fun
party of zero, table for one
sister to no one, mother to one: not a real child however, this one's purely just for the fun.
"do you know how bad i feel?"
no i don't, but do you know how bad i feel? all the little things that i don't tell you? all the things that eat away me, the things that i ever so desperately wish to control but can't. all of the times i felt that nothing i ever did, and ever will do would be good enough.. not for me, but for you
not to please myself, but to please you and you alone
all of those self inflicted wounds on your behalf.
all of those overdoses on ativan and valium as well as lexapro
three different medicines used to overall treat the same thing: anxiety, seizures, epilepsy, and muscles spasms
but for me, anxiety.
the one thing all of these medicines have in common, the one thing you give me the most of
"that's the last thing i want to hear right now. now, i need your help"
of course that was the last thing you wanted to hear at that moment in time.
you never want to hear anything i have to say unless it pertains to or directly involves you but sure,
"what do you need help with? that's what im asking."
you always tried to make it seem as if i was always asking for things that were unnecessary. things that wouldn't be put to good use: things that wouldn't be used for the purpose they were meant for
you were a manipulator
*not were, you ARE a manipulator and you always have been
at least, for all of my life and i'll be turning 18 soon
which says enough within itself
you always try to make it seem as if i ask you to run to japan and back as many times as you can in 10 minutes:
or more like, things that are so said 'impossible'
but that's all okay, i promise it is
one day you'll regret everything that you've ever done to me, and in that day i will rejoice like there's no tomorrow
bohdi and i used to always made jokes about dancing on your grave
now the question is would i ever do that? and the very obvious answer to that is no, of course not
there'd be no need to, not now and not ever
"you know what, get the fuck out of my face."
and with that, i proceeded to cry
cry like i've never cried before
not because what she said was mean to me, but cry because for some odd reason: at that exact moment my heart was shattered
for what reason, i don't know.
but all i can be left to assume is that Camila was right when she said "Loving you had Consequences"