Again, I’m not enough.

I lost the weight, but I gained the stretch marks.

I lost the acne and scars but I gained the dark circles underneath my eyes

I lost the attitude, but became too boring

I lost the childishness but became too old

I tried to be perfect but that’s not what you wanted.

I tried doing more but you cared less

I changed a lot about myself to be enough but I missed the point

You’ll never be enough for someone who doesn’t know your worth, whether you changed to add more value, they’re blinded by the superficial things in life that even though you are 90% what they need, they’ll go after the 10% of what you don’t have.

And that’s the reality, no one is good enough, I wasn’t, I don’t think I’ll ever be, I just wish one day someone chooses me and makes that choice everyday

It happened

Sometimes you watch yourself live a life you never wanted, you see everything you strived not to be become your reality, you watch the pieces crumble to the surface where you lie helpless and alone, everyone you thought would lift you back up, pointed fingers and laughed as if you’re a caged animal in the towns circus, am I beyond repair or really caged and locked into this mess? They laugh, they judged, they don’t throw tomatoes at the show but they threw stones, they watch in anticipation to see your next downfall, but who are they? The ones we love, the ones who said “through it all”, “I’m here for you”, the ones who lived the same reality but hypocrisy is a disease they don’t realize they have, who am I? I’m the one who became everything I didn’t wanna be, I’m the one who watched the life I built fall to pieces, but I am not just the mistakes I’ve made, I’m the one who got back up when there was no hope, I’m the one who rebuilt my foundation with the same broken tiles, while the crowd stood there waiting for another thing to judge, I changed the story, from broken to breakthroughs, it happened, but it didn’t last. So when you talk about my flaws, faults and failures, talk about the other F’s

My FAITH, my Fortitude and my FEARLESSNESS.

Maybe one day

And maybe one day you’ll find the sadness you gifted me with

You’ll hate how hard you try to get rid of it but it’s constant

Maybe one day you’ll wake up and miss my laughter

Then you’ll remember how I stopped one day for no reason.

Maybe one day you’ll look up at the rainbow and remember I looked at you the same way, with so much hope.

Then you’ll remember how the colours turned to tears.

Maybe one day you’ll hear a song and remember I once sang that to you

But I stopped singing because you stopped asking me to

Maybe one day you’ll finally see that you were counting stars when you already had the moon.

And just maybe you’ll call my name and hear no answer because you’ve lost me, not to another, not to death, but to the pain you drowned me in.

Consumed

The loneliness creeps in at night, unwanted, uninvited, unbothered and frightening, yet we’re familiar, the uncomfortable feeling that sets in, but I lay with you and you know my every secret, every ache, the tingly feeling running through my now dampened skin because I’m afraid to lay with my loneliness and yet I do this every night.

I don’t know the warm feeling, the feeling of having someone, even something to ease my nerves, but I know you, I know you who destroys my sleep, who watches my body clench in fear of my life, my heart, my regrets, if not you? Do I drink a little more or pop another pill? How do I stop you from invading my peace? How do I stop you from drowning me in guilt and sorrow? You draw my tears until I’m dry, you scare my soul until I sweat, you enter my dreams and I’m trapped in fear.

I beg you to leave, but you can’t because I created you, I feed you all my pain and now you’re more than me, more than what I can control.

The devil on my shoulder

This pain I endure, I accept because I’m told, “It’s his plan.”

But was it his plan to feel the shivers run through my spine when the devil on my shoulder manifests its strongest poison?

I swallow and gasp, why did I accept that?

Do I intentionally sabotage myself because I have no control over my impulses

Do I not know the wreckage I’m wrestling out of only to sink deep back into like it’s quick sand?

I want to learn but I’ve lost my faith, I guess my mind was vacuumed of all positivity

I guess this is a 3am thought

When the light shines through my window, I’ll be young and naive again

Not for long, just while my shoulder has no occupants.

It’s not a bad thing.

And you’re going to reach a place in your life where you’re at peace with being alone, when you’re completely okay being in your room watching Netflix the entire day, where you reply 6 hours later because you’re antisocial and you don’t mind anymore.

But the problem is finding out the true intentions of those around you, the problem is in friends disappointing you, the problem is when your family won’t even give you that peace you require.

What if people are just nice to you to score points with you? What if friends are only there out of sympathy? What if family treats you as if you’re not blood? You get so used to everyone making you feel like you’re no one that you’re at peace with being with no one.

And it’s not a bad thing, it’s not a bad thing when you become alone to avoid being left out, it’s not a bad thing when you stay in your room to avoid being shamed, it’s not a bad thing being alone because the wrong people made you feel alone when they were around, because they didn’t wanna acknowledge you, it’s not a bad thing being alone and avoiding drama, lies and all that comes with being with people who genuinely don’t fucking care.

I’m coloured with pain.

I remember sitting on the couch watching romance and planning out my future with my first love, I remember the innocence, the happiness, the hope, the faith, the love..

But it takes an hour for an argument to transpire, for him to call me a bitch, a whore but how? A virgin? He’s my first kiss, my first touch, how am I the names he calls me?

He thought I didn’t want sex because he thought I lied about being a virgin so he called me names, he punched, slapped, strangled and headed me.. he stopped when I bled.. when I cried.. when he came to his senses..

I had scars of blue, purple and sometimes black. Scars not deep enough to make me walk away, marks my mother asked about, but he loves me so he won’t do it again and if he did.. I’ll repeat, he loves me, he won’t do it again. He loves me and the swelling will go away, my skin will be clear again.. he loves me, he won’t lay his hand on me again.

The puzzle piece

He filled a gap, emotionally, he gave me the love and attention that my family didn’t, them being too focused on my older siblings, I needed someone too.

He blew me away with kind words and telling me how beautiful I am, he sang a song that consist of him never hurting me and loving me in a way no one can, he touched me in ways that didn’t involve being physical and I submitted to his every word. I was too young to understand the misery I’ll soon bring myself, the pain I’ll soon discover, the realisation that I’ll ruin my life, my teen years and my own happiness.

He was the biggest chapter of my life yet he left the greatest damage.