Think of Me and Forget Me Not

image

Running on a belt, going the distance but I’m still here.

Familiarity, close to home, the kind of things I want to keep near.

 Like every last drop of honey in a jar,  I’m stuck.

Come pull me out, come and get me. No? I must be love struck.

The last piece of the puzzle, so close, right there.

I know you’ll have no answers, no matter how deep I stare.

When I feel the urge to hate, it’s because I love a lot.

I’m running, huffing, out of breath with each night that passed and we fought.

I always think it’s just so damn simply put.

Each second passing, I’m hoping I won’t be brushed off like soot.

I delve deep into being an unnecessary, necessary article, pushed to the side.

We never really know if there are rules to follow for this, but it doesn’t matter… we never tend to abide.

Defiant, defiantly straight,

Shall I set down my foolishness and forget that it was ever fate?

My tongue is so numb, cotton mouth with every verbalized notion.

What’s killing us is the silent, natural erosion.

Emitting light at the end of the tunnel, so brightly set,

I’m hoping each struggling day together that we won’t regret the day we met.

It’s all like the nicotine I press between my pout, rising against my flesh,

We never end up realizing it’s all there, just hiding like when you’re looking through mesh.

A few small words can cause such a clatter.

Am I invisibly obnoxious? Do you see that I’m telling you what’s the matter?

A shot to the chest, a blow to the head is arising with defiance.

Were we wrong to think we would even make such an alliance?

Tell this girl, am I just a dumbfounded waste of time?

It’s too early in the morning, I can’t think, I can’t rhyme.

Do you walk away? So you pretend like it was never there?

It honestly shouldn’t  have taken all of these horrible nights to show me that you still care.

I just wanted to know if you still think of me the way you used to.

I can’t forget the first time you hooked me, telling me what you’d never do.

I remember the first time you kissed me, telling me you’ve been wanting to do it for quite some time.

I’ve always felt the safest with you, never knowing that my emotions were so naive, so reckless, how can my heart commit such a crime?

I feel like I’m the ringing in your ears, always there but always to be pretended like I wasn’t.

I’ve ran in circles, using up credit of new ideas to fix this. I really thought I found the way to make us work. To my dismay, it just terribly doesn’t.

Well, we let everything happen. I’d like to say it all just slipped through stiff fingers.

I’ve always been able to wait, no matter how many lingers.

These dense, matte lashes that I wear so beautifully, they’re like a natural train wreck on the canvas.

The tears are portals to an unspoken language. I’m hurting, I’m oh so envious.

This heart hurts. Will anyone come save me?

They say rely on yourself, but all of my decisions are like poison, so deadly.

We’re just a beautiful tragedy, playing in slow motion on the screen.

I’m longing for the days we can smile and feel ever so serene.

You are everything I cry about. You are everything I’ve always wanted and more.

I don’t know what it is about you. Even if the bolded words fall flat and crumble, in an instance, your face is the one I still adore.

It’s been a while now… I hope you still see me.

I’m standing right infront of you, do you have anything to say? Is there anything you want me to see? 

You’ve always told me to not let anyone, including you make me quit.

I’m still standing here, looking back at you from an undeniably frightening tar pit.
 
  I jump to these conclusions of heart pulling, a deafening slice.

It’s still just us, so talk to me. Tell me you want to throw this away… throw me away. Are a few small words really worth the price? 

You ask me if I think we’re going to last. You abruptly answer you don’t think so.

I always have the same answer: I honestly don’t know.

Have you given up? Have you thrown me away?

Maybe one day I’ll find the answers. Maybe I’ll realize one day…that I loved the wrong way. That’s the reason why you didn’t stay.

Courageous Cowardly Confession #1

I’m More Scared of Candid Pictures Than Creepy Crawlies

Before I get into this and explain myself, keep in mind that now that I’m older…I KNOW. That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’m sure some things will be like wtf but I’m an adult now, I know.

When I was younger (middle school maybe?), I found refuge in talking to my “online friends”. I wasn’t the shittiest kid to be around, but I also wasn’t the most popular. I’d get bullied here and there and I’d be so happy to just come home. Yeah, sometimes my house wasn’t that great (which I won’t get into right now) but sometimes it was better than being at school.

  • A lot of kids love the socializing aspect of school and “starting new things”. For me, it was a tad different.
  • I’ve never had boyfriends from my school or anything like that. I was the girl that guys were cool enough with to get hallway hugs but would never get considered.
  • I just wasn’t “them”.
  • I had SOMEWHAT of a tiny tiny circle of friends (now that I realized it, weren’t true ones anyway), otherwise didn’t get asked to hang out
  • I’m sure everyone has their own school aged stories, however I’m always usually the odd one out.

There was this “boy” that was a year older than me that I used to talk to online. I was really into music at the time (oh here comes the piercings and my side swept bangs tucked in a black hoodie phase) and we’d swap music all of the time and talk about random things we enjoyed out of school. I forgot where we met online. However, we talked almost daily. Out of all of the people that I’ve talked to, he just seemed like he wasn’t that much of a “cool kid” either. He liked the music I liked. He had similar thoughts I did on movies and other random things. We just seemed to “click”.

He sent me pics of him (Normal ones okay! Nothing crazy!) and asked for mine. I wasn’t so accepting yet of how I looked as I was going through puberty and I thought I just looked fucking weird. I wasn’t able to look in the mirror and be like “MOM I NEED MOAR SLUTTY CLOTHES FOR CLASS.” I had a digi cam (Sony Cybershot to be exact). I usually took pics of random things but not really myself. Sadly when I did take a picture of myself, it was to see how ugly I’d grown. Yes, this sounds depressing and I’m sure someone out there reading this is thinking about how much of a low self-esteem bitch I am, but this is what you’re gonna get so take it or leave it. I’d finally taken a picture of myself and sent it to him, however with my cell phone at the time (Motorola flip). I remember I was wearing a grey and fuscia Element Brand shirt and had a hat on in the picture. I remember one of my eyes were covered with the brim….here’s a better “look” with MSPaint:

the old motorola pic

I had thick and curly hair that I hated at that time. I was fortunate to not get acne but there was a giant list of things I hated about my body. Still, I sent him a pic because I trusted him as my “friend”.

Speaking of music of my “era” at that phase: I remember listening to this song while sitting in my room online after kicking off my ever so dirty Chuck Taylors

One day, I was hanging out with one of my cousins and we went to the park to chill out. Her and her cousin had a camera and started snapping random shots of randomness. I didn’t quite remember them telling me to “look” or “smile”. They just snapped away.

After that day, I wasn’t online for about 2 days. I had forgotten why but anyway, that “boy” that I talked to so constantly, was online and not away or anything….I was ever so curious as to why he never bothered to see me sign on and say a simple “what’s up?!” or anything like that. I Imed him first. He sent me a picture, a picture I hadn’t even seen before. It was an extremely unflattering and humiliating looking picture of me. I wondered where the hell he had gotten it. Comes to find out my cousin, her cousin and her neighbors from across the street (pretty girls that hated me and were always bitchy to me) had sent him these candid shots I didn’t know existed. He said “Is that really you in those pics?” When I shamefully answered yes, the convo box became empty. He started talking to me less and less until no more.

When I asked that lil’ “group” why they sent him pics of me I had no idea about, they said “You’re not happy we sent what you really look like to your BOYYYFRIEND onliiiine?! I’m sure he’s happy he’s finally seen the real you, you ugly, fat bitch.”

Yeah…I know if he was a “true” friend, online or IRL, he would have stuck around. However, when you already have a low self esteem, shit like that happens to you, it adds on a little bit to your personality. I’m honestly paranoid a lot of the times of how people (irl for the most part) see me. I’ve gotten so much negativity towards me that no matter how I try to “shake it off”, the shit is stuck on me somehow. I’m still trying to get over things and my fear of people meeting me and thinking I’m some ugly bitch. I’m still trying…everyday.

People in my personal life probably find me “immature” that I don’t like people taking pictures of me/posting them/tagging unless I see them first. That story above is one of the main set offs to this paranoid, personality trait. I started to put two and two together when negativity would clash with more negativity in my life.

ugly

I’ve been cheated on by men who’s even told me that I didn’t look good enough for them anymore and that was the beginning of my adulthood.

  • I’ve been trying to accept compliments when I get them, although they aren’t so often.
  • I’ve been trying to accept who I am.
  • I’ve been trying to change my ugly inner psychological traits.
  • I’ve been trying to love myself.
  • I’ve been trying to think more positively.
  • I’ve been trying to let go of my past experiences  in order to get ready and take hold of the new ones to come.
  • I’m trying to “accept” more “tagged” pictures of me.
  • I’ve been trying not to hate myself.

 The point is, I’m STILL trying.

I haven’t given up yet. I may cry about things that people may see pointless, but when it’s important to THAT person that’s crying, you won’t just “get it”. You’re not them. You don’t feel what they feel. You haven’t gone what they’ve gone through.The best thing you can do is try to understand or at least just comfort them. I don’t need you to pick me up and rock me. I’d like a simple arm over me and saying “it’s okay”. I’d rather not hear fuss about how I’m a tiring person and do pointless things over pointless things.

If you have nothing to say, force your muscles to pop that arm out to whoever feels like shit in front of you if you give at least a bit of a damn.

People just don’t realize what’s going on outside of their own little bubble. Some may talk down to people like me because they see that they are right. However, you’re making their situation worse. Just stop.

It’s hard enough not to have anyone but the mirror or air to talk to. Do the world a favor. Be someone someone can talk to for a change without making them feel worse.

Goodnight, WordPress<3

Confessions of a Courageous Coward-Intro

Image

I painted this in acrylic on a fabric canvas sheet when I was around 14. Oohh teenagism.

Hello WordPress! It’s Confection1nfection here (as always)!

I’d like to introduce a new “section” of my page…dun dun dun DUNN

Confessions of a Courageous Coward

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and sometimes I just need to get things out.Have you ever had people wonder things about you, yet you never felt the need to explain/have tried in laymen terms and they just don’t get it? I’m sure you guys have…

  • It’s not so much of explanations gone awry without a notion of stoppage.
  • It’s more so of “You say this about me…well let me explain why I never bother to go into detail.”
  • I can be a chatty person, or I can be so quiet, you’ll forget I’m even there.

Because of this, people tend to say things about me as they perceive me without knowing the full story.

These will be the stories behind..well…me.

I hope whomever reads it, will get things from it, or at least a basis of an understanding about me, knowing me or not.

Everyone has their own ways, for now until I’m more comfortable, this will be mine.

  • I’ll be titling these with simple “Courageous Cowardly Confessions” followed by numbers. They will be in their own category (which I’ve already categorized this intro into it) and will not be under my other writing categories.

As always, thanks for taking the time to stop by. Please come check back and see what’s new with me 🙂

Disclaimer: Whatever is typed is going to be my own opinion. If you are ever at some point offended, please just dip out. These are my personal thoughts and feelings, so if you could please, respect that. Thank you-Confection1nfection