Q-Tip Ideas

I used to clean my ears so much
and I didn’t understand why until today

I was trying to push the voice that told me that I was better off falling in my own, through to the other side

I’d wet the end of a q-tip, hoping the water would drown out my thoughts, instead it made them float

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Bue

No one is you and I keep looking for you in things that aren’t even there.
No one is you and I keep creating hopes from your past words and making them feel like you recently said them to me.
No one is you and I keep thinking that you’ll want me even though you’ve made it clear that you don’t.

I’ve said things to you that I’ve said to millions of other people and I’ve met people like you but at the same time, you differ from them and I can’t quite put a name on it.

I’m not inlove with you, and sometimes I see similar signs that I portrayed in the past with an obsession I had with that person for 4 to 5 years with you and sometimes I’m I confuse reality and fantasy with you.

You are not mine, but I keep calling you my boy, my bue, mine. You are not my boy, not mins, but you are my bue and you hold a bigger place in my heart and take up more space in my head and consume more of my body than most people.

No one is you and I keep looking for someone to be you because I can’t have you.

No one makes me feel how you make me feel

Shore Destruction

I’ve fallen in love with the shores because it’s waves remind me of the thoughts that come and go, invading everything that I am and believe in.

The weather can be so settle, but that doesn’t mean the tides won’t come and demolish everything you’ve built.

Depressing Haunts.

I feel so alone, even though I have people around me sometimes. I just want to push everyone away. My old problems are starting to hit me like a brick again. Not that they stopped haunting me, they were just hovering.

I have a job.. part time, I longboard almost every other day, I try to read once in a while but sometimes my lack of attention span gets to me, I want interaction with my friends, but life is slowly draining me again.

I want to talk. I want to be there for people, but sometimes I just can’t even be there for myself, you know? I have hopes. I have dreams…. but they’re becoming more broken and I haven’t chipped away at them as much as I could have.. should have… the should haves are getting to me.

I could be worse… my problems aren’t as bad as some people’s, but that doesn’t make me any less valid, does it? People tell me I am valid, but I don’t feel that way sometimes.

I’m losing myself more and more everyday. I wish I could write more often, but I keep running out of words. It’s hard to transfer all of my feelings into words. This entire time for years, I thought I was writing what I was feeling, and sometimes I was and do write about how I feel.. but it’s usually how I think I feel. I didn’t realize that until therapy.

I hate that my therapist is away until near the end of August.. I just started getting back into therapy because I stopped going. I thought I could handle being alone… being without help… but I have a difficult time.

Forestry Falls

I just want to escape this flow                                                                                                                                                   falling from the sky, flooding the streams

Not quite a settle pain, fast and devouring                                                                                                                                     as the flaming forestry

Needing to have a solid plan, walking                                                                                                                                       backwards doesn’t work when my mind is in constant fastforward

Wandering through this headscape, minding                                                                                                                               my manners as I trudge through it’s waving allies

Back and forth I strut, cancelling out the                                                                                                                                   words I want to say, so cliche                                                                                                                                                           I am, so far I am

Vulnerable Senses

Song I listened to while writing this post:

Heavenly Father – Bon Iver Cover by Milo Bloom

Slowly sensed it, went past the                                                                                                                                                   point of returning atleast with a steady mindframe

Quickly started seeing, trapped in                                                                                                                                               my own space invaded with what-ifs

Here I am, after it happened, smothery                                                                                                                                 and vulnerable at it’s finest hour

There I was, thinking I had control,                                                                                                                                             mistakes unmade, not a mistake this time though

Exhalation Masses

Stinging from the slowly growing masses, he decided to keep trudging, thorough and deep strides

Knowingly stomping through the grounds of massacreic meanderings, he didn’t care that his hopes were becoming his own version of hell, created and formed, designed for the soul purpose of getting used to a taste of a place he would soon know

Desire for the rupture, storming approached lessons, he ran through every detail that troubled his empty sockets, charging as he plugged in the waves

Walking, realizing that everything he breathed in were just remnants of everyone else’s exhalations, carrying their burdens and making them his own so that his appeared disadvantaged

He wanted to be invisible only because that’s what he was used to, so he trudged into the place he knew well, the corners of every crevice of every memory and sliced them in pieces, threw them into his veins and slowly drowned them as he was drowning with the loudness of all his thoughts