Swallowing your pride
is easier than swallowing words
you’ve already spoken.

There will be harbored regret
while you watch actions unfold
because you
couldn’t keep your words
where they belonged.

Ramblings of a teenage drama queen pt.1

“You have to practice being the person you want to be until you are the person you want to be.” – Unknown

How can I be something I am not?
Practice they say,
So practice…
Practice being kind.
Practice being sweet.
Practice being smart.
How can I practice being something I am not?
I can only try to be me
and can I even succeed at being me?
I’m not sure…

I will get what I deserve
What do I deserve?
What does anyone deserve?
Who decides?

Can I be special ha…
I could never..

Who is going to-
Let me just stop there.
Why does someone have to do anything for me?
Why do I expect someone to anything for me?
My life has not been a breeze,
but I can say that things have been pretty calm.

Emotions, maybe I just want…
I know I want,
I cant get-
because I don’t earn,
because I dont try,

Maybe thats whats wrong,
I just cant.
I say I cant,
I act like I cant,
I believe I cant,

but it’s because the will power to try just isn’t there.

I have a large head and a low self esteem.. What kind of combination is that?
How can someone who boasts themselves so much feel like the only option is death/absence.


It’s the lack of feeling in my life.
The lack of need.
The lack of desire.
I know I like things…

-I try not to cry because it makes me feel weak, but I think thats why I want to cry so much. I sit in my room most of the time and just think of ways I could be better, things I could do. I imagine myself dying and everything being better. I feel sad all the time because I cant be what everyone needs. I just want everyone to be happy, I lose myself in that. I change for people so they can have what they want and need- and im happy with that. But when I’m not with people, I put myself in this dark place.
And there is comes
The most realization I can get to talking about the way I feel.
Who even cares about that?
How can someone be attached to something so reckless?

Mother fucking feelings

How can someone describe happy?
I read on google that loving yourself is treating yourself like a baby,
taking care of yourself before you cry,
loving unconditionally,
attending all the emotional needs,
how can I attend ALL my emtional needs?
My body wants too much,
my brain wants too much…
I want too much.

Maybe thats why I can’t get anything
I want.
Or maybe thats why
I overlook things like they are too good for me.


Date originally written(DOW): 10/30/13

The cupcake phase

I miss the days when you wanted to know me
You would race home to talk to me
Never wanted to spend time apart

Things seem to have changed
You don’t race home
And you don’t talk to me when you get there
Some days we don’t get on voice chat
and most days we don’t video chat

It’s hard keeping a long distance relationship alive
There are no how to books
Maybe some blogs
But every case is a snowflake


I found tons of LDR questionnaires
At first it was nice
We learned a lot
Mostly our boundaries

but now

They have become a hassle
Something that is an annoyance
more than an exploration


not the sex kind of intimacy
I want the brain kind
You know the one
Where we know each other
faults and all
And still want to be together
Still get tangled up in deep thought
and conversation

Laughter, mutual understanding

I just don’t want to be

You say

You say to wake you if I need anything

What a funny thing to offer

If true love is waking up in the dead of night for your partner

Is true love waking your partner up?

I’m confused because I thought the goal was to better one another but I if I keep waking you up and hindering you from getting your sleep what does that make me to you?

If I’m someone who brings you down

Do you want me?

Do you need me?

How many happy faces can I put on until you notice the cracks?

I’m chipping away into something I don’t recognize

And every time I feel this stranger coming

I run

And unfortunately, it’s away from you


I have a very bad habit of lying to you

I don’t mean to

And I know what I’m doing

But I just can’t stop

You ask me if I’m ok

And I say yes

You ask if I’m tired

And I say yes

You ask if I want to sleep

And I say yes

It’s a lie, I just want to cry

I’m on the verge of overflowing with each response I feel my throat burning and swelling painfully

If I say anything more I will burst

And you will feel obligated to clean up my mess

Say all the right things


But nothing cures me

You can’t mend what you don’t know is broken

And I can’t tell you what’s broken

All I know is I lie

And I’m sorry

Ella y yo

Este vez

Si lo siento

Tu amor

Te abrazo

Pero no estás


Varias veces

Y me quedo pensando

Sin ti

Quien soy

Sin ti

Que es alegría

Soñamos de tiempos

Donde casamos

Y tenemos bebés

En un casa propio

Y eso si va ser?

Como me puedes hacer promesas

como las unas

Que distes

A ella

Somos diferentes

Ella y yo

Ella tiene su lado

De oscuridad

Y yo también pero diferente

Nunca quiero hacer daño a nadie

Cuando ella me hace daño a mi

Y aún no lo puedo ser

No la puedo estimar

No se

Que puedo decir

Pero me duele

Y pienso en ti

Quiero salvarte de esto

Esta cosa que creíste

Pero cada acción tiene su efecto

Y lo que es

Va ser.

Cada ves que digo que somos diferentes

Ella tiene un millón de razones que somos iguales.

No lo quiero creer

Pero si es verdad

Y solo notamos las similitudes

Porque es una competición

Sin decir

Lo que es

Willing victim

I talk about how my heart pains

But when we aren’t speaking I’m so happy with the memories

Then when you call it’s as if that’s all things will ever be: memories.

And I will never have a future where more can be created.

Shouldn’t I be grateful? Some people don’t even have memories

Am I lucky or cursed?

To have felt your hands in mine

Your lips on mine

Or am I cursed

To live with the memory

And long for it

And never have it again

I wanted to write more positively

Truly I did

But I find myself now sinking

Into this darkness that completely encases me

I guess my main question is:

Did I walk in voluntarily?


It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter
I don’t matter

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