Hands as soft as the fragility of your ego
You compensate by making every woman whom you encounter feel disposable.
God forbid you actually show yourself
What makes you whole
Or what would feel that hole inside of you
That you desprately try to fill
with women and substances that make you ill.
Forever scathingly searching for content to fill the vapid hole that is your existence.
you live by the adage that bliss is ignorance.
The devil’s in the details, you know all too well.
Just gotta keep it moving, better not dwell.
you’ve created your own personal hell.
but you’re ego only allows you to tell yourself you’re doing well.
The ship to stability has long since sailed.
Someone could be a chapter in your life while you’re a footnote in theirs. It’s nothing to feel hurt or weak about, it’s purely a projection of how they undervalued you, took you for granted, and speaks largely about their character. You are worth the world, and if you felt strongly enough for someone to make an imprint in your life, they are too emotionally inept to understand how you truly fit into theirs.
Lost in the lies
And the spark of your eyes
I failed to realize that you were never the prize
but something of my reprive and I despise the drive that led me to chase
That led me to fantasize
and to waste..
My life on hope
And when I’m finally ready to let go
Ready to be set free
You tip-toe candidly
like the gentle flicker of the flame in my heart that has died down to a kindle
with words, “We were meant to be,”
but with subtext that read
That I glazed over in the bliss of your essence
you finally fed me your attention, gave me your pressence
I’m in HEAVEN!
But not after long would it die down to neglection,
and it took me too long to realize that your love is only an infection.
I was caught in a cycle of give and take
but my heart was never yours to break
and it was my MISTAKE
for letting you in..
when deep down I knew exactly the intentions you held within.
Sometimes when it’s been so long since you’ve loved,
you figure that the highs and lows are similar to a drug,
and its a rite of passage we must all trudge through
to get to that happy ending we were meant to.
I’m over you.
It’s a fight you can only stand up against if you’re ready. Sometimes, you’re not even ready. You sleep on it, fumble with the idea. but you’re just not quite ready to be finished with chasing that thrill. Who is? It never stops feeding some sort of satisfaction, but you’re just quite tired of your actions. you’ve grown quite weary..of the lies. and the apologies.
Change is happening, in a slow, insecure, way. and often change comes just like that, life has shown me. I’ve had to learn that making change often doesn’t feel like paving the way. But more like turning left at the intersection instead of right, and making that a permanent fixture in your journey.
My friend is going on a foreign exchange trip to France. I told her to have fun and that’s amazing, and speculated that if I were to go to France, id make hundreds of tiny flyers with a picture of a baguette on it that read hello, and silently smile and bow at passerby on the street as I handed this to them.
She responded, “They probably wouldn’t find that funny,”
Minutes later, after she returned to her work I tapped her on the shoulder, smiled, bowed and handed her this.