Sometimes... Our own light Goes out. Embers die. Flames fade. Warmth ceases. Then... Just as fast It can be rekindled By a spark From another's. Giving us everything We had missed.
These Thoughts
Every night, These thoughts weigh heavy on my mind. Every morning, I shut them up and push them aside.
Still You
I've still thought about you, Every hour, On the hour, Of every day, Since I left you there. Worrying. Contemplating. Crying. Hoping and praying, You make it through. And I'm still here, Trying too. Because despite everything, It's still you.
Just Me
There was just me. Then there was you too. Sitting in white rockers. Up high on a dark, chilly balcony. Watching, gazing, thinking... Overlooking the night of Sunset Beach. Staring up under Orion's Belt. Lights shining through pinholes. Set deep into the ink black sky. Imaging, dreaming, growing... Watching the waves in front of us. Listening to their thunderous sounds. We're smoking cigarettes. Breathing in more than the salty air. Talking, laughing, crying... It was just us and our thoughts. Our words that broke through the ocean air. Thoughts that came to light. Feelings that were shared. Loving, believing, living... Now they are only memories. Almost like they were never really there. A blank space with nothing left to see. Because now it's only you. And now it's just me.
Self-Help
Current status…
Currently… I’m sitting here on my kitchen floor. Thinking. Writing to you.
In between my batches of chocolate walnut cookies (which smell fucking delicious btw), I’m reading a self-help book with Halsey playing in the background. Yeah yeah. I fucking broke down. Bought myself a damn self-help book from Amazon…
Maybe you have also bought a book like this. So stupidly inspirational that your whole damn life forever changes after the first chapter. I’m skeptical… but apparently fucking completely desperate for any answers or guide to changing myself at this point.
It’s bright yellow. Has basic font. A very cheery looking book. Simply titled, “YOU are a BADASS”. A guide on how to stop doubting my greatness and start living an awesome life. Basically, I figured if I was ACTUALLY going to read a self-help book it was going to have fucking sass and lots of damn cuss words. Please excuse my french.
I’m ready to start actually fucking loving myself. I want to see all the great things that everyone else apparently sees in me that I’m missing. I want to fucking discover myself and be able to mold myself into who I was meant to be. Yeah… I’ve been slowly starting to learn how to love my shitty flaws, but maybe trying something different (something with a zest of cringe) could be the extra boost that I need right now. Cringe.
So here’s to my fucking seemingly impossible soul searching mission. Wish me some luck!!!
Also… praying that the chapter “Leading with my crotch” is not going to be a literal concept… I’ll let you know.
Cheers!
With You
When I'm with you, I memorize every angle of your face, I breathe in as much of you as I can, I notice your every movements, I record your voice and laugh in my head. So when I'm away, I can remember every minuscule detail, Of every single moment, From when I was with you.
Narcissist
You.
You’re manipulative.
You patronize me and belittle me.
You only care about what you want.
You don’t truly care about my feelings.
You tell me it’s all in my head.
You need everything to go your way.
You use me.
You play games to make me come back.
You’re so fucking selfish and demanding.
You’re a self-centered, egocentric motherfucker.
You’re conniving and deceitful.
You’re always having to have the last word.
You’re lying to yourself by blaming others.
You’re ignorant and so damn arrogant.
You’re fucking mean when not the center of my attention.
You.
You are an asshole.
And a fucking narcissist.
2020
Fucking welcome aboard 2020!
A new year and a fresh start? Yeah… I think new year’s resolutions are complete bull. We should all be trying to resolve our problems the WHOLE damn year, not just the first two weeks of it. However, I am curious to see what I can fucking accomplish in the next 357 days of 2020.
Will I be able to change all the things about myself I dislike? Will I be able to stop wondering what others think about me? Will I be able to stop myself from seeing myself as just a number on a scale? Will I be able to hold strong to my values, even if it lets others down?
Can I be the strongest I’ve ever fucking been? Can I not make the same shitty mistakes that I’ve made over and over again? Can I love others more than I’ve ever loved them? And… Can I truly and honestly love myself?
2020… Let me give you a go.
Drinking Buddies
What makes me do the stupid fucking things I do?
I keep making poor decisions… and then carefully walking on eggshells praying they don’t come back to bite me in the ass. I feel like I’m doing these things to punish myself. Which is pushing myself farther into depression.
I have become somewhat of a professional fuck-up over this last year. I keep telling myself… “Dude… you won’t fucking do this shit again… you learned a valuable life lesson today bitch”. I mean… fuck… I’m 26 and still haven’t seemed to learn anything from my mistakes.
Yup.
Bullshit. Here I am, once again, mentally spiraling into a rabbit hole. Drinking vodka, building a model ship, and watching corny romance movies with my damn cats. BTW… “Drinking Buddies” (with the hottie Jake Johnson from New Girls) is really fucking good.
So, now I need to end the year off on the right foot and fix another mistake. I’ve got umm…. holy balls… only 19 more days to make this fuck-up better.
Well fuck. Here’s to hoping I learned an actual lesson today and that I can fix what I regret! Cheers!
Wounds
Everyone has a story to tell.
Everyday as a nurse, I care for someone who has a story to tell. It could be a juicy romance, a historical non-fiction, or a very fucking dark tragedy. However, in every story I hear… there is a wound, a heartbreak, or a trauma.
I’ve met people who have lost limbs in wars, families who have lost children, and those so sick they have given only days to live… and they all have a story to tell based on their own personal tragedy. And even though they may be telling me the damn worst imaginable story (that make me cry in the bathroom afterwards)… majority of the time they are at fucking peace and have accepted their pasts.
I am coming to realize that everything that makes us who we are… are our dark pasts and wounds. Every scar tells a story. Every trauma that we face molds us into the person that we are. It is up to us, me and whoever you are reading this, to make the best out of the traumas we are dealt. We need to be able to grow, learn, and accept our past wounds to become better people. i mean… fuck… the shit that each of us has gone through or is going through is terrible. But…
We only have one life. ONE FUCKING LIFE. So don’t ignore your fucky past, accept it. Make the best out of every fucking day. Live without regrets. Create amazing memories. Love others and yourself.
Honor the fucking traumas that molded your story.
AO Poetry 
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