My Favorite Sweater.

It’s getting to autumn,
It’s getting a little colder,
I think it’s time to get out my favorite sweater.
The one that’s stretched out,
Though it’s fitted to my body,
And fits me better than a boys hand holding mine.
The one that makes my eyes seem a little less sad,
And a little more bright,
Because I’m in my favorite sweater.
The one where i can lay my head on my hand, I can smell pumpkin spice and cold nights.
Then December,
The one where I remember when I was trying to be sexy and seduce you, I was leaning my body against the wall and tried to pulled you close to me, but I ended up hitting my head against the wall and you called me a klutz and we laughed.
You still teased me about it.
Then in February, you didn’t like my sweater anymore as much as I did.
Said it wasn’t red for love, it wasn’t perfect anymore.
But I didn’t care, love isn’t perfect, neither is a sweater.
When I pulled it out of my closet today,
It hit me,
Everything; all the memories in this sweater.
All of our nights out,
and our nights in.
Here’s to the nights we shared,
And to the night you left. Me.
When April came to put away the sweater,
I felt like I was putting away us.
When I held onto you and begged you to stay,
You didn’t.
But you didn’t take my sweater with you.
I get a little upset, but it goes away.
Five months pass,
I haven’t looked at the sweater,
I haven’t looked at you.
I don’t want too,
All the sweater did was make me happy,
It fit me,
But you, you fit me better than my favorite sweater.
I’m walking down the road, and I just look at the field that we used to walk in,
Now it’s ugly. It’s dry, plain.
But it’s okay,
Because now I can wear my favorite sweater,
With the jeans that are ripped just right,
And I’m comfy,
Secure, and it has a touch of perfect.
But you know,
I might have given up my sweater,
If you hadn’t given up on me.
I wish I could tell you words to encourage and inspire,
But the truth is
I’m wrecked,
And I’m sad,
And I’m tired.

The “Happiest” Day Of My Life.

“That’s one thing about expectations,
You’ll always be a little disappointed.”

The happiest day of your life?
It makes you wonder what really was and what you think it was.
Maybe it was getting a pet for the first time and claiming it yours,
Maybe it was meeting someone for the first time and feeling like your life has changed.
Maybe getting a tattoo to represent your struggle.
I’m constantly torn on thinking,
“What has been the best day of my life?”
Now, I know it’s only been 16 years, and I know that’s not a lot of time.
Maybe it was when I was four,
Going to Disney world and meeting my favorite princesses,
Or getting my first cat and didn’t know what to name it,
So I named it myow.
Maybe it was the time when I realized I only have a few years of staying with family then moving on by myself.
Maybe it was the first time I didn’t use “maybe” the whole day.
I don’t know.
But it just gets me thinking.
What if the day that I thought would be the best of my life, turns out it wasn’t at all. I just thought it was.
Now, I know many people don’t over think and over-analyze things like I do.
Maybe the best day of my life hasn’t happened,
Maybe it has and I just don’t know it.
I’m always thinking about these things and it always brings me down,
But I can’t stop thinking about them. It instantly brings me stress and anxiety,
Which I obviously don’t need right now.
I’m just unhappy and don’t know how to fix it.
I’m trying to tell myself that it’ll pass, that I’ll be alright in a few weeks, months, or even years.
And that’s fucking ridiculous,
I’m impatient and I would rather be happy now than trying to find things to make myself numb.
Because it sucks. It really does.
I can’t finish my book,
Let alone write a good blog post,
Because I feel empty. And I don’t know what to do.
That’s all I have to say for now, I guess. I have more but it’s just repetitive and annoying to me.
Have a good day loves.

Comparisons

“Not knowing stuff makes it less complicated.”

I feel like I’m in a competition I’ll never win.
I know every girl has felt like this.
I just feel not good enough,
Not superior to you,
I feel like at any point I can crash into a million pieces and you won’t know what to do because I’ll lash out at you and push you away.
And I don’t mean to do that.
And I know I’m not supposed to feel this way, and honesty,
It all comes down to one guy.
A guy I’ve spent a year with,
And another year getting over.
Talking and venting with people that could care less,
That didn’t listen.
And then,
I feel like you’re making me forget the hurt,
The ache I always used to have,
The emptiness.
And I feel it’s way too early.
I’ve already told you half my secrets,
My dreams,
My failures, your failures.
The way my face gets red way too much,
Ones that I wouldn’t tell anyone else,
You were just patient,
You listened.
And I feel like that’s bad,
I’m only seeing this now.
I’ve done so much to build a wall around myself with a scowl on my face and a bitchy attitude.
And just when I was secure in my secret place,
You come in,
And slam it down, so easily.
And I’m still wondering how the hell you did that.
And now we’ve been talking for a week.
It’s nearly two in the morning,
And I’m up,
Thinking about the way you talk.
You’re eyes,
I can never tell if they are grey or green.
The way your shyness reflects off your smile.
The dip in your chin,
I’m thinking about the way you excite me,
The way I’m happy to get up in the morning, and not dread seeing the world as horrible.
Even though it is.
You can instantly pick up my mood,
Just by a simple text, that isn’t more than a sentence.
And that scares me.
And every time I almost bring him up,
You stop me and talk about your favorite games to play,
And I feel that getting to know me
Wasn’t one of them.
I end up comparing,
One by one,
Every guy that I see,
Every guy I get to know,
I compare them to him,
And they never make it. Ever,
Not one.
And maybe they weren’t meant too.
I feel my friends looking at me,
And smiling,
Because they know I’m not miserable anymore,
Other than when you aren’t talking to me.
I’m a little less mad,
At myself, at life,
And a little more thankful of everything.
And thankful I’ve met you.
Out of no where, completely unexpected,
Even when we did first talk,
I didn’t expect anything,
Because I was still doubtful,
And I was still hurt.
And maybe I still am,
I always will be in some places.
Maybe it was good that it wasn’t expected,
It wouldn’t have made it better than it already is.
I still get that moment,
When I end up comparing,
And I knew you weren’t like him.
For the first time,
I think you’re better,
And I’m a little shocked,
But I’m a little not,
Because each time I was comparing similarities,
Not differences.
And I’ve figured out,
That it didn’t work because me and him weren’t remotely similar.
We were different.
Then I look at you,
And were completely the same.
It makes sense,
Probably only to me.
So I’m tired,
I’m mumbling,
And bullshitting,
And I hope if you ever read this,
You’ll understand.
And know that I’m not ready to devote my life to you,
Or declare my love,
Even though you haven’t asked me too.
You have to understand what I feel comfortable with talking about,
And I suppose you’ll know everything in time.
And I feel like I’m already jumping in head first,
Not afraid of commitment or brokenness.
Know if at any time I get like this,
you can’t freak out,
Or shut me out.
I don’t know what we are,
But I can’t wait to find out.
I think you’re going to be very good for me.

Dancers

03-dancers
“Here we are again,
In the middle of the night,
We’re dancing ’round the kitchen
In the refrigerator light,
Down the stairs,
I was there,
I remember it,
All too well.”
-t swift

Dancers,
The one career that gives girls high expectations and thinks they will be a professional when it’s a one in a million chance.
Yet, every girl thinks of doing it at some point in their life.
And lately, I’ve been inspired by it.
They can be graceful,
Or horrible.
And yet, there’s something about it that runs through my veins,
Something that I haven’t done since I was eight,
Suddenly peaked my interest.
They move to a rhythm,
They move to a beat,
They hear a song and they can instantly move to it.
There are so many kinds of dance it’s hard to keep up.
But my best friend, and her sister,
They both dance,
And even though they are competitive and one doesn’t dance anymore,
I just think of the way they dance and the way I wish I could do that without looking like an awkward stick.
The way they beautifully move, not any hair out of place,
It’s so unforgettable,And so crazy to think about.
Doing splits that make me hurt by looking at them,
Going on pointes,
And managing to still look perfect.
I feel like each dancer has a song,
And each song has a perfect listener,
And in that moment,
The theme song for that moment in your life,
It could last,
It could not.
But that choice is theirs,
And I think that’s so intriguing.
This can’t just be me here.
To me,
It’s like reading a book.
Or sleeping.
And some moment in your life,
You forget everything entirely for a moment,
And you just let it take you away to another world,
With no worries,
And it’s peaceful.
And in that moment, no one else matters but you,
And that’s when you cannot waste that moment or let it go.
So try not to.

Connection

They say hiding your feelings will help get rid of them. Based on experience, I must say they’re wrong.
The more you hide your feelings for someone, the more you try to prevent the inevitable, the more you fall for them. Life works that way.
You cannot just erase and forget the memories you shared.
And it’s hard to start over, trust me.

We all have our doubts,
That we will meet someone who fits our needs,
Someone who is exactly like you in some ways
And different in others.
We all have experience with this,
And maybe that’s why we have our doubts.
It’s very fascinating,
At one moment your thinking,
Oh that’s okay; all of my friends are in relationships,
Happy, content, neutral.
When you are so used to hearing all of that,
The loneliness,
It gets to you.
Watching them love each other the way you want to be loved,
Yeah, it hurts.

And when you’re just over-thinking your life,
You future,
Your mistakes, your choices,
Out of nowhere,
You meet someone.
By one simple mistake,
And probably one of my favorite mistakes.
You don’t know how,
But it just clicks,
The connection became so strong in such a short time,
On subjects you would never talk about with anyone else,
That you’re talking with a stranger that you just met,
Because everyone else would think you were crazy.
Next thing you know it’s been four hours,
Nearly two in the morning,
And you aren’t the slightest bit tired,
Because you still haven’t run out of things to talk about.
Just where you have that sudden connection,
And you don’t want it to go away,
And it doesn’t.
It just stays.
And then the part that you dread,
When they have to go away,
And you just think,
That’s awesome,
I don’t think I’ll ever have that with anyone else,
If won’t let someone in so easily.
You say you’re goodnights and tell them to take care,
And you just go to sleep thinking of the way they talk,
The way you’ve never heard it,
They just listened.
Even if you talked too much,
Which you probably did.
You go on with the next day,
Still thinking about this and that,
And it goes by,
Hours and hours,
You think he’s probably busy,
And now it’s nighttime,
You thinking about going to bed early,
And then as you go to lie down,
Your phone lights up,
And you just smile to yourself,
Because you know exactly who it is.
And then it repeats.

Day after day,
Spilling secrets and passions,
Futures and failures,
And each time you talk you feel a little less sad,
And a little more happy,
And content,
And neutral.
And you can relate now,
Because you think you’ve finally found something that you can say that you didn’t expect.
And you can say it’s something that is yours.

This shouldn’t even consider having a title.

“Do you know how much you meant to me?
Oh no.
Do you know I still carry the memories?
Oh no.
Did you know that for me letting go wasn’t easy?
Oh no, no you don’t.
Do you still listen to our lullaby?
Oh no.
Does it help you get to sleep at night?
Oh no.
Are you singing along by the pale moonlight?
Oh no, no you don’t.”
– chase coy

I don’t want to start over.
I don’t want you to start over.
it’s not fair to me. to you.
I don’t want another first date,
Or first kiss from someone.
I don’t want to figure out someone all over again,
I don’t want to meet their family,
I don’t want to repeat any of it again,
It just reminds me of all of it,
All of the failure.
I’m so sick of it. All of it.
I’m so sick of trying. And hoping,
That maybe when I start to push everyone away again,
To just shut everyone out,
There will be that one that is determined to stay.
Maybe they exist,
You know?
Maybe that person, my person.
but you were not him.

“And hey sweetie,
Well I need you here tonight,
And I know that you don’t wanna be leaving me
Yeah, you want it, but I can’t help it.
I just feel complete when you’re by my side.”
– a day to remember

You’re such a hypocrite.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I don’t want your story to begin.
I hope you two don’t work out and I hope that you will feel exactly the way I do.
You don’t even talk to me anymore.
You’ve forgotten. Everything.
But I haven’t. I still have all of the text messages. All of the pictures.
I still see your name burned into my mind.
I want you to go away.
I want to forget.
Because it’s best,
And I won’t hurt anymore about you,
Then I can hurt about someone else.
Please let me forget you,
Help me forget everything.
Help me forget our conversations at two in the morning,
Help me forget your eyes,
You’re brightness.
Help me forget our first kiss we never got to have.
Help me forget everything,
Because I’m sick of waiting,
I’m sick of wanting you.
I want to forget.
I don’t want you.
But I want you.
I don’t know what I want anymore.
I don’t know.
but I know you took me.
not my virginity,
not my innocence,
you took my heart,
my soul,
you took my dreams,
you took your time,
you let me love you,
you let me love myself,
you loved me,
and you took me.
All of me.
and you ripped me right down the center.
you let me fall for you,
and you had me wrapped around your finger,
and you didn’t care.
and I cared, I wanted you to care.
But you didn’t.

“im starting to feel,
starting to heal,
and you should too.”
– this wild life

we all make mistakes. it’s not you, it’s me.

“Now you’re screaming I don’t love you and I never did.
You’re just a number in my pocket,
So get the hell over it.”
-inxoticating, i love you.

Ah yes, another horrible day with disgusting people. Another day to remind yourself to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve and trust people so easily. Another day to regret everything you’ve done wrong. Another day to say, You’re fucking done.
But we all know you aren’t that strong.

Feeling yourself getting sick to your stomach, your legs getting weak as your struggling to breathe.
Trying your best not to damn cry, because it didn’t mean anything,
So it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t hurt you.

Whispering to yourself that it wasn’t real, and maybe it’s a dream that you’ll wake up in.
Whispering to yourself that it will be alright, that they come and go.
Whispering to yourself that it was your fault that you got attached easily.

Finally feeling yourself lose your balance and feeling numb, and soon, you’re on the ground thinking to yourself,
That the sickness and hurt will go away. Eventually, right?
Now you’re screaming to yourself to not get attached again,
That you’re just a stupid, naive, little girl.
Because you are.
You’re screaming to yourself that you can’t do this over and over and not expect the worst to happen.

Now you’re crying,
You’re crying because you know it was your fault that you rushed it. That you ruined everything.
You’re crying because you knew how it would turn out eventually.
You’re crying because you told yourself, you hoped, that it would be different.
And you’re crying because you know that it’s a damn lie.
Because this is how weak-minded you’ve become from over the past few months of struggling.
Because this, this can’t be true. Can it?
No, because it’s too good to be true.
You’re so sick of it. All of it.

Now you’re swearing to yourself,
You’re swearing to yourself to never show your feelings, because you won’t get a better feeling that contentness and neutrality.
You’re swearing to yourself that it will never happen.

You’re looking at your wrists and tracing each white line, and you’re swearing that you’ve been months clean.

Now,
You’re questioning.
You’re questioning everything.
Why did it happen to you?
Why hasn’t the world stopped for you?
Why is everyone going on with their lives while you can’t?
Why are you being so dramatic?
Why aren’t you being strong about it?
Why are you wearing yourself out over a dumb boy?
a boy who had to take a few days to lead you on and made you sacrifice your comfortability, just to rip your feelings in two, and leaving it there to rot.
Why do you care?
Am I going to get any answers to any of these questions?

The fantasy: yes of course dear, your time will come eventually, just not right now.
The reality: no. you aren’t, so get the fuck over it and move on with your life already. No one cares to see you that way.

Now you wake yourself up, and then repeat. Everything.