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I only hate myself, because nobody wants to love me.

Though I’ve never received, please take this love from me.

They say you can’t miss what you’ve never had.

But I’ve never had love, and that’s why I’m sad.

- “Love Is Complicated” - Self

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Shadows, dreams, tilted screams,
lives of pain, jeering feigned.
Hearts broken by others brash,
hearts hurting in life’s path.

Pondering, sharing, seeking solace,
wanting connection, hoping embrace.
Hearts broken by others gash,
hearts looking for a somum truth.

Finding, learning, hoping for truth,
forging bonds, minding the wounds.
Hearts broken yet not lost,
pieces forged and tempered now.

Wanting, knowing, truths of another,
trust is forged strike by strike.
Hearts hammer hitting true,
forging the other into something new.

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Estoy llorando ahora mismo, le e dicho como me sentía a esa persona y me contesta de ratos, me preguntó que si le quería contar y al final ya no se conecto después de que le escribí diciéndole como me sentía, supongo que era de esperarse que no le importará, ya he borrado esos mensajes y e dicho que lo olvidará.

Sigue sin contestar aún estando en línea, tal vez tiene cosas más importantes que hacer.

Igual no quiero deprimir a esa persona con mis cosas.

Ahorita ya me da igual.

Llevo 3 horas intentando dormir pero no lo consigo.

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Estoy dudando de si realmente le importo a esa persona, realmente me quiere como me lo dice o son simples palabras de nuevo…

Me duele el corazón de pensar que solo sean simples palabras, me duele tanto el corazón de pensar en eso que tengo ganas de llorar sintiendo un gran nudo en mi garganta.

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oct 29, 2020 (292/366)

-today’s paycheck was the PHATTEST so far

-worked from 830-230 today

-hate to admit it but loving this cold weather

-my skin is sorta finally clearing up

-cooked chicken fajita again today

-surprisingly didn’t nap but talked to ms lois on the phone for 40 mins again smh hahaha

-kaisa is too darn cute ugh

-the breed used to say she was a black mouth cur and now this? lol snapchat is so inaccurate

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My midnight thoughts

You are a mystery to me. I can’t tell your thoughts, or your words, or even your feelings. Being far from you is almost painful to me, sometimes I just want to talk, to look in your eyes and see your smile in front of me. I want to hear your voice, but not in the phone, no, because we both hate speaking on the phone. I would rather do a video call or travel 16km to get to you. I just wish we could never end that conversation, or keep a conversation, because I don’t know what takes you apart from me that we can’t talk for so much time in a row. I want this moment to arrive soon, when we’ll stop pretending that we don’t want each other.

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Me duele el corazón siento que no estoy haciendo nada bien, por más que me esfuerzo, no logro hacer nada bien, o por lo menos no siento que lo este haciendo bien.

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I cannot feel anything but anger tap dancing across my skin.

It starts in my nails. It always starts in my nails. I claw at the wood of my desk, at the hem of my shirt, and the skin of my palm. It leaves marks, sometimes, and I imagine my flesh breaking open, and red spilling out.

If I am a pressure cooker, then my talons must be the whistle - both a way to let out just enough steam to prevent disaster and to warn everyone else that when there is the sound of cartilage crushing itself on wood, to get away, to leave, to stop poking the pot.

(I’ve heard so long that I was such a polite child, a kind child, and I wonder if eight years of anger has finally started to find seams, find places where it can push and push and push until it is acknowledge that I am an angry girl! Truly! And maybe I wouldn’t have been otherwise but I don’t know where else I can build a whistle)

(There are three marks in my face, three crescent-shaped-cracks, and I think that at last, the anger has won.)

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