You don’t love?
Are you blind?
I’m a star burning brilliantly after all
You don’t love me?
I’ve been here for you but I don’t matter now that new opportunities shine on your bleak horizon.
We don’t fit?
I am the missing jigsaw piece of your heart.
You love me?
But you want to leave when we could have it all.
I am desolate but always full of hope. I will be fine. You will always be a wanderer.
I write this with tears falling from my eyes. How cliché? I write this with clarity. Knowing full well that I am unloveable. I ruin all of my relationships. What am I afraid of? Or perhaps I’m just living proof that love is not real. It truly is a word soaked in honey to attract flies. I’m a fly in the spider’s den. I am alone. Only a drop of paint in the great mosaic of love’s canvas? Really? Is this it? I am never a great love only a footnote. A lesson learned by our great protagonist. Crying changes nothing. Another drop in the endless sea of sorrow, lost hope, depression. I thought I loved but it was only fancy. I thought I was adored but was only a receptacle for what was unwanted. I want to say that I will be strong and perhaps one day I could be. But right now? I drown. I drown and sink. I am through fighting.
It’s all over
Her hand full of tiny promises.
Promises of silence.
Her glass of wine washes them down.
Still feeling hollow she drinks more
and falls asleep.
Tears fall from her eyes when she
realizes she is awake and has only
a pounding headache to remind her that
promises are always broken.
There’s this small, alien feeling working it’s way into my brain.
It dies and it’s putrid little body festers, stinking up my thoughts
It’s cancerous. Spoiling positive thinking
Killing the “love” receptors in my brain.
I’m queasy and old. Lost and abandoned
The only thing keeping me going is that the universe makes the sun set and stars come out
Their cold beauty nurturing something in my heart.
I do still have a heart, don’t I?
I feel it thump to life in your presence.
I feel excitement and anger.
But the poison is spreading
And I’m sorry
Here I am talking to dead stars
They may twinkle in their inky abyss
But can never hear me
Having burnt out before my existence
I’m alone with these heavy thoughts
Pouring from my heavier heart
Why are my thoughts so scattered
Like many dead leaves beneath
An old oak tree?
Even with a prescription I am lost
Even with routine I am hopeless
I look for love and I find lust
I look for love and see that it isn’t real
We are alone and only alone
There is no “other half” only an empty me
My mask is slipping and I still talk to the stars
How long can I hold it all together?
I have an obsessive personality. I don’t know other people who are bipolar so… beats me if this is normal or not. Addiction runs in my family (drugs and alcohol) but with me, it can be anything. Snapchat for example. I downloaded it and I compulsively check it every few minutes to see if there are any updates. It interrupts my life. And it isn’t just that that. This can happen with anything or even anyone. Someone will become so important to me but I don’t even know them. I’m an attractive woman and in a committed relationship but I want the attention. Men, women, likes, comments. It can be exhausting to be honest. This weekend I’ll see if I can put my phone away for a bit.
Blurred and spiraling downward.
I’m falling into the sky.
Hanging onto a dream with a wish.
No actions or drive necessary.
Gravity pulling me skyward.
Have I always been afraid to fly?