I see, or so I thought I saw
Something less but something more

I saw, or so I think I saw
Something more out of something less

And I saw what I see now and I see what I saw then
Out of something less came something more

Graved Truths

I’d be lying
If I didn’t try
To tell you the truth
About wanting to lay down
Inside and stew
In my own grave

I’d be lying
If I spilt but didn’t cry
Whenever I needed to escape
This headspace cave
Built from nothing

Hospital Corners

Like a hotel, our bodies are being rented out                                                   temporarily I squander around                                                                                       for rooms that aren’t occupied                                                                                       but every spot is no longer vacant.

As I round the corners, slightly folded                                                                   into eachother like a hospital bedsheet                                                                       I realize that I don’t have Schitzophrenia                                                                 but I have conversations with people who aren’t there

Are they? Maybe they’re all the versions of myself talking to people they used to know.

Friends, but I love you

I’ve realized that through talking to people and even friends in general, that I care about you so much because you come up in general conversation.

I could be talking about somethign that has nothing to do with you and all of a sudden you’re coming from the back of my head to my frontal lobe.

That person I converse with could be talking about their feelings towards someone and if I can relate, all of a sudden my feelings that I forgot I had for you, come creeping into my heart again.

I’ve also learned that sometimes someone else will come across my mind because usually sometimes if I’ve felt something for that other person before, the feelings I have for you, are reminding me of that and vice versa.

We’re just friends but that doesn’t stop me from caring about you.

bue.

 

I was already missing you, but looking at your pictures made me feel.

They’re a bit outdated, a few months old, but tears started forming in the puches beside my eyes.

Not because you’re not good looking and your face makes me cry, don’t ever think that. It’s because I realized how much I actually want you in my life. I may not completely understand what you’re all about, what exactly triggers you all the time, but that’s okay. Maybe I’m never supposed to completely understand.

Many people have come and gone in my life, whether I pushed them away or not, but you are one of the few people left in my life who I can come to about anything.

Some of those people have made me feel what you make me feel, and I’ve met some people who I’ve said ” you are unlike any other “, but I truly feel as though you are different and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

You’ve told me things, some of them I may not remember until you bring it up, some I will never forget and some I’m glad you told me because I know how to treat you.

I love you, not because I can’t have you, not only that, not just because I am jealous of those who get to spend time with you in person, not because others may have pieces of yout hat I have never had or will never have, but because I just simply do. You have such a beautiful soul. A beautiful brain.

You scare me and don’t scare me at the same time and both of those frighten me.

I know that yout ake space, and maybe sometimes you ignore me, but I’d like to think you care about me still, and even if you told me one day that you no logner wanted me to exist in your life, I’d walk away, but I’d still be here for you if you needed something.

I write about you more than you probably know.

I don’t think about you 24/7, but sometimes I write about you to distract me from other people, sometimes I convince myself I care about you and force it because sometimes I can’t just be you know?

As complicated as I may be sometimes, and selfish and confusing and manipulating, you’re still fucking here and I thank you for that.

Bue.

B.C.

I’m actually in a good mood and I want to document this moment because it’s rare that I actually write about my feelings instead of how I think I’m feeling.

I feel warm and soft and sweet. I actually care and it’s taken me years to realize that I’m not the thoughts that come rushing at me in the middle of the night.

I’m not the invasive panic attacks that hit me when I’m out in public doing literally nothing but walking around or sitting down.

I am this person who has allowed their thoughts to win against their heart.

I am this person who is very good, but prefers to self project their insecurities on to people and attempt to push them awya before they can run off by themselves.

I’ve placed so much dwelling and hatred on my past that I literally have been living in it. Some days now, I’m out of it walking around with a new head and a fresh start.

I’ve come quite far, but I still have things to do, things to work on and places to be.

No one can go back into the past, you can only move forward even if it hurts to move forward. I’ve held back so much that I’m getting to the point where even if I don’t want to let certain thigns go, I need to.

I’e bene holding onto the person iw as because it’s who I’ve been living as for my entire life almost. I’m not that person as a whole, just parts. I am someone else and that is okay.

 

 

Love Friend.

I’d write this in the form of poetry, but this isn’t really poetic.

This is about a boy, maybe that’s a cliche way of starting a blog post, but this is genuine and I don’t really care about how cliche or not this is.

He’s not just a last resort, and if he is, I usually tell him. I feel like I can be so honest with him and if I find myself lying, I always tell him. I think he understands why I do that, not that lying is an excuse. I haven’t lied to him in a long while.

It’s nice how when him and I go a while without talking, our conversations can start back up again, whether it’s reminising about the past, continuing an unfinished subject, or starting a new journey together. I’m not in love with him, but I feel a sense of love towards him and for him.

Maybe I’m lonely, but I’m lonely in general and for some reason, sometimes I seek him out more than even he or myself even knows.

I find myself wanting to tag him in random posts, but sometimes I’m worried he’ll see them and think ” Uh, why would you tag me in this? what does this post even mean in regards to me? “. Or that I’m being pushy and annoying with how I feel.

I care about him, and I remind him way too much.. atleast too much in my eyes, but I actually do. I care and sometimes when I tell him that I love him, I need to know myself that I do. I just want himto know that even though i don’t understand his mind sometimes, or the particular situations he’s experiencing, that I’m here and I haven’t left entirely except times when I’m almost disassociating in general or closing off and isolating myself from him and people in general.

I find that I usually close off when I feel like I’m being ovr affectionate and overwhelming.

But I’m glad he’s there, and my intentions with him are more good than bad.

( Maybe you’ll read this some day bue )