We're here, you and me, two miniscule anomalies. Created through chance and brought together by luck.
Tag: Me
In-Between
What happens when you’ve found yourself stuck in some kind of limbo of satisfaction with who you are?
I’ve repeatedly found myself torn between completely loving or hating myself. There is rarely an in-between for me. There are moments when I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, where I’ve gotten, and who I’ve become. In those moments I truly and wholeheartedly love myself… But those feelings don’t tend to last very long.
It’s like my brain flips a depression switch and I’m back to hating myself. I feel like I’m not enough, I’m not worth it, I shouldn’t be here, my existence is pointless… Blah blah blah. I’m left feeling 102% unsatisfied and disappointed in where I still am and who I think i should be. Touché to mental sabotage…
I just don’t know what to do to fix this anymore. The only thing I feel like I can do at this point is let it happen, ride it out, and hope the self-love lasts longer than the hate.
Time heals… I get that. Personal effort and growth is key… Yeah sure. But will time and effort really be able to invoke complete love for myself? Or do all of us just learn to tolerate and cope with ourselves enough to survive?
Heat
Heat radiates
through the gap
separating our bodies...
Penetrating
and prickling
my skin in waves of
uninterrupted static
through too-thin fabric.
Warmth travels
unabated as it seeps
and spreads
from your flesh
up into my chest...
My body now hot
as I try to catch
my breath.
Viridian
I never settled on gray... I settled on viridian. I settled on a romanticized intensity seeped in tender sophistication, in hopes to cloak the darkness and cravings for desolation...
Temporary
If I'm not fought for, then I know I'm just a moment. A moment in your life when you needed someone and I was there. A phase... A chapter... A temporary filler for whatever hole you couldn't manage to fill yourself. Used, released, and left to question everything I must have done wrong.
Existential
Sometimes I feel like I’m just not supposed to be here.
I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure if my idea of ‘here’ means this lifetime, world, or body… but at times I just feel so disconnected from my own reality. I can’t seem to figure out exactly who I am or where I want to be, but somehow know that my life is screaming mediocracy.
Part of me believes that I could be living some exceptional life if I was anywhere else. Like if I had just played my cards right… if I had followed my dreams… maybe I could have been extraordinary. It’s like I’ve personally somehow robbed myself of having a more desirable, purposeful identity. I mean don’t get me wrong… I’m grateful for everything I have in my life… but the part of me having an existential crisis right now is also pissed that it all feels so meaningless. I sit here alive and thriving, yet still considering myself a pile of confused nothingness. Meh.
So… yeah… that about wraps up my rant about my existence possibly being a mistake. Thanks for taking the time to read my dissociative thoughts. 🖤
-Hal
Edged
Her tongue was edged like shattered glass as her thoughts pierced the air... An ambush of sharp, unforgiving words left puncturing the minds of anyone who dared to listen...
Pulse
Beating slow and steady through the skin of my temple... My pulse softly reverberates underneath my head's pillow. Abruptly my beats quicken, now loud and askew... By my minds reckless wandering to the sudden thought of you.
Where To Begin…
My emotions are erratic and hard to understand... And my head overflows with ideas and unfulfilled plans. My perceptions are complicated and haphazardly skewed... With a reality warped and questionably construed. My memories are my past but somehow still in my present... And honestly in the morning I'm just fucking unpleasant. My mentality is borderline of being clinically insane... But truthfully my flaws make me never want to change.
Tangled
The shade has fallen under the tree... so take my hand and lie there with me. Your calloused hands and my haunted green eyes... can then tangle together under mostly clear skies.
AO Poetry 
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