Reflections on my inner and outer worlds.

Posts tagged “destroy

Nostalgia (12/2/2016)

Nostalgia

Sickness

Sadness

I dream of you still.
I dream you want me back.
That you’re sad.
That you are depressed without me.

Every time I wake up from them,
and several days thereafter,
I feel sick.

Ill

Those butterflies that once lived
in my stomach.

Dead

And the corpses remain.

Decomposing

Rotting

Upsetting my stomach and wanting out.

Weighing down on my mentality.

You’re still there.

You’re still haunting me.

I don’t want you there.

You make me sick.

You legit make me want to puke.

I dream you want me back.

But I don’t want you back.

You hurt me.
Ever since that last late spring,
you hurt me.

The physical illness isn’t the worst part.

It was confiding in you.

It was trusting you.

It was putting all my faith in someone,
hoping they weren’t the same as the others.

And watching it all happen

All over again

It was hearing you say
that you “didn’t care

You were tired of me.
You were tired of almost everything I am.

It was hearing the fact that

I’m not worth talking to when

I’m not happy
I’m upset

Sad

Depressed

Lost in a black abyss

Trapped in the dark

I still remember it.

I remember all those words

Those that which broke me down

Those that shut me back in.
Those that meant,

I should not open up.
I should not trust people.
I should not explain how I feel to anyone.
That I should never have done that in the first place.

And when I think back to our good memories.
It makes me sick.

Ill

Gross

When I get nostalgic,
it destroys me a little bit
at a time.

And it breaks me down
when it’s about you.

Because it reminds me

that I never should have trusted you.

I never should have confided in you.

I never should have put faith in you.

When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that you destroyed

the weak side of me

after helping build it up.

 

When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that

I never should have fell for you

as hard as I did.

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My Days… (9/4/2013)

Back to school I go.
My appearance is just for show.
Starving, day by day.
Nothing left to say.
Struggling from day one.
Nothing is just for fun.
Hearts fill my page.
I doubt it’s from rage.
But now they are broken hearts.
To represent how mine was torn apart.
Mine is now stitched together.
The stitches won’t stay there forever.
My mind is invaded by stress.
Why am I such a mess?
Living behind a complete lie.
Wishing that I could just die.
But again, there is something keeping me here.
The something helps rid my mind of fear.
I wonder how long he could keep my fear away.
Before it slowly destroys my soul one day.