Undreamt

The lump in my throat swells so much that I can barely stand it. I bite back hot tears and it hurts to know that I am still failing at something that seemed so simple to do. My tongue flickers in my mouth curling the smoke around my mouth. And even the taste of it is sweet compared to the bitterness of my mouth. The breath flies in and out of me like traffic on the highway. Fast and angry, in quick swoops of time. I think back to my childhood. To my younger years. To my complete failure then. I want to be better than her. But I can't be. Her blood courses through these veins of mine and infects my blood with her anger and most of all her disappointment.

How did I get like this? I never wanted this life of invisible chains. This life of immense responsibility. To feel like a mess every waking day of my life. Always spewing anger from my mouth. To feel time slowing ticking away from me. I live my life for you. And you take it all for granted. You take me for granted. Easily discarded. You spit lies in my face and set off rages in my heart. You spark off a fire of abuse within me. You make me her. my worst, Never my best. I want freedom to do as I please. Freedom to soar to new heights. I secretly blame you for all my mistakes. For all my failure.

Who knew this is how this woud be? That lump is still there. And those hot tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I can't cry. It is weakness. It is failure. It is acceptance. It is surrender. I can't. I constantly defend you, but to no avail. You continue to make me a liar. Promising untrue expecatations. Maybe they are right. This too shall pass. But I only see it getting worse. I live for you. But is it the right choice? This guilt is killing me. I can't continue on. I want to give up. I am but a lost ship in the night. Help me. Find me. Cast me back onto the docks of safety. I feel so weak for letting this get to me. Will I ever tell you how I feel? Will this guilt ever subside? Will you ever ask?

I am nothing but a younger version of the one thing I loathe the most in this world. I am a failure. A fake. A phony. I am lost. I am insecure. It kills me to know this. I am finally in the dark place I never wanted to go. I can't escape who I was meant to be. Am I to become her copy? Her very duplicate? But with anger and rage the size of the moon? The guilt sucks me in. It feels like a blow to my chest. It is deep and painful. And all I can do, is let it. I am not better for it. I am worse off. How can I continue? I fail you everyday. I ignore you. I put you off for another day. Not now. Not now. Not now. Always not now. I put you off like a lazy summer day. And this is all my own consequence. For this is all of my own doing. By my own stern hand.

Sola en mis miserias

There was one time when I belived that I could possibly marry you. And the more I recall that time, the more naive I see myself. I wish I could have just been better. For me. Not for you. Because I began to depend on you. Enraptured by what was you. And I was left feeling filthy and as empty as you are. I was nothing but a prize to you. And that hurt more than loving you. I was never the one you talked to, you pushed me away. Always twisting my words or actions to look unfavorably upon me. I was nothing but a child. You left me. Remember that. Because I will never forget.

Eventually, I began to hurt others as you did to me. I was cold and dead. Just like you were. And I began to like the games. The manipulation. The lies. The tears that fell from their eyes for me. I was powerful like you. But I was still empty. Only filled with heart break and memories of our addictions. I filled myself with drugs to forget you. But I only filled my glass with the esscense of you. Not for your sake but for mine. I was dreading the day I would have to repent my sins. For I had been what I began to hate. I became you.

For years of causing pain, I was lingering on thoughts of finding something good. Something substantial and worthwhile. I could no longer keep on trekking on this thin ice of hate towards you. I began to heal. I moved on. I found something mediocre in that time. I was unhappy. But I continued on for my sake. And the sake of the only man I vowed to actually love. I never spoke the words to anyone, just to him. As he lay in my arms at night, and would smile up at me at dawn. I cursed myself for being so putrid. I wasn't good enough for him. I didn't deserve him. I had learned to let love in. Unconditionally. He still loves me. And I am thankful for that.

I found my equal. And it was, is, will be good. I was happier in ways I have not been in my life. I was a constant reminder to her of how much she had missed in her life. And I was a mistake to her. But with him, I was incredibly happy. I couldn't believe my luck. I had thought that I would never be able to find a good person for me. But I did.

I make mistakes. I push him away at times, but I never want him gone. And he may push me away harder than I have been pushed or have tolerated. But I will always be here. No matter how hard he pushes me away, I will be there every night. I will be there every morning.

Don't talk to me. Fine. Don't say anything to me. Fine. Push me away. Fine.

No matter what You do. I'll still be here. Even if You don't want me. Please know that I will always want to be a part of Your life. Whether You want me there or not is up to You. I can't undo the damage that has been done, and whether it is anything at all. All I can do is apologize and hope things don't change for the worse. I am the weakest person when it comes to giving up. I am stubborn mostly, but I know what battles to choose and which to let go. I will give up. My fight. But I will never give up on You.

Just know that You are the only thing that has been of any actual value to me. I am finally happy. But if You aren't then I guess I should give up hope.

Beautiful

From time to time, I tend to inadvertedly keep my emotions in check.

It's not something I like about myself. But it's my nature. I protect myself from being too exposed. Too vulnerable. I don't want to hurt too much in the end.

As time passes by, I think more and more about my mistakes. Where I could have tried harder, where I could have given up. The beauty in all this is that hindsight is always 20/20. I can't correct things. Nor, do I honestly believe I want to.

This post isn't about just one thing. It's an overall view of where my life is headed. I am surrounded with possibilities, but I always place this wall up between the world and me. For fear of being let down, of getting my hopes up and them amounting to nothing.

I wish I were different. Less stubborn. Less jealous. Less...

Well, I can't. And I am not.

Those aspect of my personality balance me out to be who I am. I am not perfect. Nor do I know of anyone who is. And I don't want to be perfect. Anymore. I want to be just me. The real girl trapped inside for all those years.

I don't want to be seen as this pretty adorned eggshell of a person without an ounce of substance, or of spunk. I am obnoxious, sarcastic, and I am me. That is who I have been since I got away. I wanted to let all those things inside of me go. As I put more miles between home and me, I let go of the chains. I dropped them, threw them out. They are scattered between here and Texas.

I guess I fear that if I return so soon, I will fall back into that idiot I was. I am scared. I catch myself doing those things, and feeling that same emptiness. But I quickly bounce back and the emotions flood my very being. They push out from the insides of my skin, bursting through me. And I am no longer that shell I once was.

So many things change. It is the only constancy in my life. Or anyone's. I want to protect the ones I love from that. I want love, affection, and a joyous life. I don't care to be rich. I have survived off of nothing. Money doesn't buy the smile on my son's face, or the twinkle in his eyes. Money can't touch how is feels to be in a secure and warm embrace of a loved one. Money can't buy health or even sustain it.

I have so many regrets. And pent up emotions. But that is the beauty of being alive. Is that I still have the capacity to feel. I am not dead inside. I am alive. I laugh until I cry. I cry until I laugh. I get so angry that I feel like I will explode. I get so happy that I could burst. I dream, I hope, I have been let down. I have suffered, I have experienced joy. I bleed, I sweat, I have pushed myself too far. And mostly not far enough.

That is life.

And it is beautiful.

Behind this mask....

I know I am confused about my future, my life, myself. I don't know a lot of things. I feel like I can't express them directly. I don't want anyone to worry about me. I am not well. I am trying to figure out who I am, where I am. I am lost. Inside. Of myself. I put on this mask and I hide how I feel about things. I bottle them up. Tuck them away. Not because I want to. But because that is the only substitute I have for anything in my life. I put things off. And then like a bomb everything hits at one point. My bottle gets full. My tears get angry. My emotions spew out of me like jagged knives. I can't control the brushfire within myself. I want what is best. I put myself last. But no one thinks about what I might want. No one tries to comfort me. I don't want anyone to worry. I miss...

I can't even say it. It hurts. It's too much. I wish my tank were on empty. It is full of all the things I thought I let go. I forgive, but don't forget. I can still remember everything vividly. It poisons my thoughts, my love. I can't begin to explain it. But the mask goes on once again, and I am on the stage awaiting my lines. I say sweet things, I laugh like an imbicile, and I smile all the falseties in my being. I radiate all the emotions and transcend them to be the reverse of what they really are. I can't help it. It was beaten into me. I would be pleasant and placid. I would sit here quietly while you trampled on me. I can't carry on. Your dead weight on me drags me down. I can hear your legs sliding accross the gravel. And I can smell your sweet sin. I am unsatisfied with me. I look at every mark of imperfection, and can see you pointing them each out to me. As though I were a blind person. I can't. I can't. I can't.

And yet, as much as you sicken me, you entice me. You take me back. To laughter.To tears. To belly aches. To joy. And I will fall from the sky upon you like the beading off the clouds. No lining, just dampness. And with it you will hear my desolation. You will feel my heartache. You will know every tear I cried over you. The angry words will echo with my drop.

I want what is best. But what is? I don't know how to get there. Help me. Tell me. Whisper your toxic love into my ears once more. I look for you in people. Yet, I am disgusted with them when they act out as you did. I want to prepare myself for you. I can't. I can't. I can't

As much as I am scattered about. I can't.

In case of fire......RUN.......

Dearest Fraudulous deceitful person I work with:

There is a fire burning inside of me. Not yielding to anything in it's path. It is unmanageable, torrid, and angry. It is not a cinder burning slowly, but a maniacal blaze inthe pit of my stomach. It travels up to my soul, burning everything with a fury so massive and uncomprehensible. I am not mad. I am lit. I am not pissed. I am fucking furious. Why? It's not because I have to work hard. I like to. But because others around me, like you don't. Don't make excuses for why you can't do something. Don't tell me you'll make it up to me. I am incensed from the ground up. I can't even imagine what I will say to you if you come to me once more. I will no longer carry your dead weight on my shoulders. For you have worn me down so thinly down to the bone, that I can not even bear my own weight at this state. I hate to bitch about it, and right now I am tucking my ball of fury deep inside. I will not explode but merely implode one day, and every miscontruity will then be brought to light. I will no longer be able to face my inner demons alone, but all of you will have to face them alongside me. I will not tolerate being stepped on any longer. You will pay for your sins. And you will only have me to answer to. You shouldn't have pressed so hard on me, because now there is no turning back. That massive destruction happening inside of me will one day be your greatest downfall and my most prized asset. You will rue the day you did this to me.

I can't discard our friendship over our work relationship. I know that. But if you want to take over, then at least be fucking responsible enough to get your work done. Not eventually, but when it needs to be. You are constantly forgetting things. Little things. Big things. And yet, everyone overlooks it. As though you were some golden child to be reckoned with. I am left to wonder if I were to mess up if I would be forgiven with such ease. But I realize that I will never be that. People expect too much from me, and I always give way. I try not to vent about it, but the diarrhea of the mouth is an affliction I have had since I was a child. I will spew all evidence free of consciense and free of guilt. I can't carry this torch any longer. I will not cover up for you when you know better.

I am angry. No, I am enraged. Maybe it is the lack of sleep. Maybe it's your pathetic lies. Your overlooking major and miniscule details in everyday life. Maybe it's that I have nothing better to do. I work. I work. And I work some more. Why? Because I like to be busy. But I despise being the prey in your predatorous ruling here. I am not the cause of this inferno. I am not the pitiable wilderbeast in the rear of the pack, awaiting my inevitable demise by your voracious lies. I am nothing more to you than a doormat. But don't you fucking think about wiping your feet on me. Because if that is your arrangement, I will surely rise up from the ground you have placed me upon and emerge from it with such wrath and revulsion that you will be repentant of your faults.

Be forewarned. In case of fire.....Run....runaway....for I will surely attack.....


♥ Sincerely yours, ♥

The unpacifyable PERSON you work with

Para Amarte.....

To love you I need a reason.
And it's hard to believe that there doesn't exist
Another one than this love.
There's so much inside
Of this heart.
And no matter what they say
That years are wise
I can still feel the pain.
Because all the time
That I spent with you
Left it's thread sewn inside of me.
And I learned how to deduct off time
The seconds that you made me
See the sky more profound.
Next to you I think I gained more than 6 pounds
With your sweet kisses given often.
You enhanced my sense
of smell and it was because of you
that I learned to love cats.
You unglued the cement off of my shoes
so we could escape
flying away for awhile.
But you forgot your final instruction
Because I don't know how to live without your love.
And I discoved the significance of a rose.
You taught me to tell white lies
So I could see you
At ungodly hours.
And to replace words with looks.
And it was because of you that
I have written over 100 songs.
And I forgave your errors.
And I learned over a million
Ways to kiss.
And it was because of you that
I learned what is it to
Love.
Love.

Torrid

"Torrid?", I say to him. His eyes question mine. I shrug. I look back. I repeat it. "Hmmm- Torrid....", I almost whisper.

I am absolutely enchanted. The shimmering burgundy. The deep purple. It reminds me of blood. It reminds me of red velvet. I turn it in my hands. I never go this dark. But I am absolutely enchanted by the chocolately texture inside this bottle. He stares at me, and sighs. He looks at the bottle not seeing the significance in it. He can not understand how I can be so enraptured by something so miniscule. I toss it in. I get it.

At home, I stuggle with the color. It is too dark. It is too unlike me. I am a red girl. With the occasional hot pink. But I have always been a red girl. Just like any sex siren. I love red lips and red nails. They make me feel powerful, sexy, uninhibited, and very much the vixen. I pull it off, too. I have so many different reds. Every girl should find the red for her! So, I look at my purplish, almost black nails. They look infected almost. I shake the bottle, I wiggle my toes. I am waiting for the color to dry. To not look so sinister. But it remains. I debate removing it completely and starting over with a summery color. I sit there. Sigh deeply. I mutter the name.

Torrid.


tor·rid (tôrd, tr-)
adj. tor·rid·er, tor·rid·est
1. Parched with the heat of the sun; intensely hot.
2. Scorching; burning: the torrid noonday sun.
3. Passionate; ardent: a torrid love scene.
4. Hurried; rapid: set a torrid pace; torrid economic growth.

Well, that gives it a little more purpose. It is a dark color. Almost gothic. Edgy without being too blasse. I am growing to like it. It is like red. It makes me feel sexy. But in a dark, serious way. As though I were afflicted by some great unknowable pain deep in the very existense of me. I feel more sassy. More alive. I feel like I am actually finally starting my life. Like I removed every awful thing from my life with the nail polish remover, and started off new with my shiny Torrid nails.

The move, my birthday, getting ready to leave Gabe with my XH, and leaving the military. It's all wrapped up in that color.

Torrid.

I am torrid. I feel torrid. No wonder I gravitated towards that color. I am rushed, I am passionate. I finally understand. I am growing up. I am abandoning my childish misconceptions of only being able to wearing red in order to feel grown up. I am entering a stage where nuetral rules most of the time, where bold colors remain in the bedroom, and where conservativeness is not naivete. I am going to live in a house once again. I am still a mother. I am going to be in my mid-20s. I am not a kid. I am actually an adult! I am not going to be so torrid in this relationship as I have. I will not be torrid like the sun beating down on me. And I will be more torrid in my relationships with people around me.

DAMN, who knew that buying nail polish could be so eye opening?