writingstosoothacenturyofpain

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

I Hope You Hate Me

There is light in this world. I have seen it. There are sunshine and warmth in this world. I have felt it. There is good in this world. I have experienced it. This is not just a world of darkness. This is not just a world of rain and thunder. This is not a world of bad. I have been happy, truly, brilliantly happy. Giggly, smiling, and unable to control my emotions laying on my bed. Staring at my phone with a light in my eyes as I read messages from you. I've felt butterflies in my stomach and smiled wide at the mere thought of you. I never thought I would feel that never thought I'd fall in love, not like that. It was too cliche. It wasn't in the cards for a broken girl like me. I was finally a giggling little school girl.

Talking to you was like seeing light for the first time. Talking to you was like standing in the sun and letting it bathe me in light. Talking to you was like magic. Talking to you saved me every time no matter how hard the day had been. I was free and I was flying no I was soaring and I'd never felt better. I should've known I'd be an Icarus, too arrogant, too dumb, and so caught up in the feeling of flying that I'd get too close to the sun. I flew too high, got ahead of myself, figured it would all work out because you saw me. Someone finally saw me and knew me and heard me. You fell in love with my voice and I forgot that wasn't everything and that I could still mess it up.

The light in this world can be blinding. I have lost my sight to it. The sunshine and warmth in this world can burn. I have felt it. There is bad in the good in this world. I have experienced it. This may not be a world of darkness, but the light isn't always your friend. This may not be a world of rain and thunder, but sometimes the rain is more welcoming. This may not be a world of bad, but good can lie. I have been happy, truly, brilliantly happy and I have hurt and been hurt. Giggly, smiling, and unable to control my emotions while laying on my bed, all the while hurting someone and then aching. Staring at my phone with light in my eyes as I read messages from you and take minutes to respond, respond with words that hurt you. I've felt butterflies in my stomach and smiled at the mere thought of you and wanted to throw up because I was terrified of you leaving me and terrified you'd hurt me, all the while my fear making me hurt you. I never thought I'd feel all that never thought I'd fall in love, not like that. I know now I don't know how to love. It was too cliche. It wasn't in the cards for a broken girl like me. Now I know it shouldn't have been in the cards because I was shattered and shattered glass hurts all who approach. I was finally giggling like a little school girl and just like a dumb teenage girl entirely unaware of the consequences of my actions, too caught up in my own happiness.

Talking to you was like seeing light for the first time and I was too wrapped up in it, blinded by this new experience. Talking to you was like standing in the sun and coming home with a sunburn when our time was up and then blaming you for the pain when I should've been smarter when I shouldn't have left you with all the responsibility. Talking to you saved me every time no matter how hard the day had been and I forgot that saving me wasn't just up to you and wasn't a burden you deserved. I got too caught up in how good it felt that I forgot I wasn't the only one there and that you deserved so much more than I could give you and then I had the audacity to get mad at you for it. In loving you I hurt you. In breaking your heart I broke my own, but at least this way you're free. No, that's arrogant of me once again to believe that in hurting you I've somehow saved you. Either way, you're in pain and there's nothing I can do to make that better. Nothing I can say or do will free you. I've given you weight to carry and a scar that only you can heal and let go of. I can only apologize and remain in my selfishness and retreat back to the darkness. I can only apologize and hope you hate me. I hope you hate me because it's what I deserve. I hope you hate me because then even if you see my messages you won't make the mistake of forgiving me and getting hurt again. I hope you hate me so I can't ever hurt you again. I hope you hate me, because then at least you're still thinking of me, I still mean something to you, to you the first person who ever saw me and heard me and cared anyways. I hope you hate me because then at least I'm not forgotten. I hope you hate me...no, I hope you forget me. I hope you heal and move on and find someone who can love you. Someone who can make you happy. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to find light and good and have it be real. I hope you leave me in the dust. I hope you forget me because that's what I deserve. I hope you forget me...because I hate myself for what I've done to you and though I don't deserve forgiveness you deserve to be free. I hope you forget me.

#Hate me #forget me #i'm sorry #poetry #dark poetry #broken heart #i'm so so sorry #is it selfish to still hope for things #you'll never read this #apologies #farewell #misery #alone once more #love is dead #and I don't deserve it #I never will #I'm so sorry #hurt #pain #heartbreak #love #lost #lost love #love lost

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Damn...

Maybe it’s not others that are at fault...

Maybe it’s me...

Maybe I’m the problem...

No...

There’s no maybe about this...I am the problem...I always have been...

It’s cliche and dumb and sounds like a trope but it would be a lie to say I don’t hurt everyone in my life. I just can’t seem to avoid it. 

They don’t leave me they don’t hurt me. I push them away. I push them until they have to leave before I destroy them or they get destroyed. 

I hate myself for what I’ve done. I hate it all. I hate that I’m sharing this at all...hate that this might come across as romanticizing mental illness when in reality I’m struggling and I just need to tell someone but can’t bear to tell anyone and that’s the very thing that pushes them all away.

Now I’ve gone and done it again hurt someone pushed them away. Hurt someone and lost someone who made me genuinely happy. I used to be so happy just at the thought of talking to them and now I’ve lost them to my own stupidity. I was scared and then I was hurting and then I was too late and now they’re gone and I won’t ever be able to apologize because they loved me and I hurt them and I’m not worth their time.

I’m not worth their love, I’m not sure I’m worth anyone's...

I know you’ll never see this but if you do...I’m so so so sorry for everything...I’m sorry I couldn’t be honest, I tried so hard and I was as honest as I knew how to be but I was terrified of losing you because you meant so much to me and now I’ve lost you anyway. I felt so bad somedays because I was so late responding to you...I never got notifications that you’d messaged me and I didn’t know how to fix it or what was wrong...there just won’t notifications and somedays I didn’t check and I wish I had, but I was scared or busy and these are all excuses. I’m sorry...no one wants to hear this least of all you because I’m just writing out excuses for all the pain I caused you when I should just admit I’m a toxic person who can’t hold onto relationships...When you stopped talking to me it hurt so bad there was days I almost threw my phone across the room just looking at the logo of the Tumblr app. It just hurt and then today...you messaged me...and I missed you because of the goddamn lack of notifications and my own pain. I don’t have anything else to say but sorry and that will never make up for the pain you’ve suffered because of me...

#I'm sorry #I'm so sorry #I... #my apologies #my message to you #my farewell to you #hurting #I'm sorry I hurt you #I hope you see this #Broken hearts #broken #pain #missing you more than ever #missing you because you're gone forever #Love is dead #and it's all my fault #nobody cares though #you were the only one #goodbye

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

JUST ONCE I WANT TO BE WRONG ABOUT PEOPLE!

Just once I want to be proven wrong by someone...I’m sick of being right...I’m sick of watching people do exactly what I think they will...

I’m sick of it always being too good to be true...

Is it too much to ask for just one person who sticks around...?

#missing #missing you #alone again #I miss our conversations #where did you go #are you coming back #please come back

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

“I heard those songs. I followed those phantoms.”

— Virginia Woolf, from The Complete Works; “The Waves,” published c. 1931

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Heartaches

My Heart aches...

My heart aches for something I do not know even exists...

Perhaps it does linger somewhere in the vast cosmos distant and seemingly unreachable but attainable. Someone somewhere has the strength, the willpower, the reach, or perhaps just the pure stubbornness capable of collecting it obtaining the ever distant and prized possession my heart aches for.

But I am not strong enough, not tall enough, not stubborn enough, not enough of anything to reach into the sky and pull down the ever elusive goal that flees so quickly from my vision.

I am just a withered shadow the foggy and dark remnants of a once bright day. The hot summer day with unabashed and unfiltered warmth turned cold and dark and empty and became a winter night full of nothingness. My trees of green are empty carcasses covered in snow and frost and bitterness.

My heart is frozen but it strains to be free of its own icy tomb and so it aches for something it may never know. My brain screams as the icy clutches of my heart grow ever closer. It's whims and desires threatening to overtake my minds strong logic and the only hint of Summer that still lingers within me, the only reminder that Winter has never been the end and has always been the beginning. My brain screams and begs me to protect its delicate life from the harsh reality my heart is consumed by. It doesn't want to enter the bleak state where curiosity and wonder perish where nothing matters anymore. It knows that means death. My mind tells me that what my heart seeks relentlessly is out there we must just be more patient. I struggle to try and tell my mind there is not the time to be patient, there is not the time to wait for soon the heart shall perish encased and stilled by the cold it has been grappling with.

My heart aches and my mind screams and I am left to deal with the ruination of the two clashing of seasons...

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

What's the point of screaming if no one cares enough to hear...?

I asked myself that for weeks as I screamed and screamed begging anyone to see me and save me...but no one heard so no one came and no one ever cared...

So I stopped screaming and I just sat still...it’s all I do now too...I stopped screaming a long time ago...

Now I'm a corpse and my bones are the only remains of who I once was...

#screaming #broken #poetry I guess maybe probably not #ramblings of a mad woman #why scream #i gave up

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Shared words...

The only time anyone cares about my words are when they aren't even mine...when I've borrowed or reblogged...it is my curse...

A heart that wants to create meets a world that doesn't see...

Who am I kidding no one sees anything I post...I'll never be heard or seen...

#utterly alone #misery #i don't even know #i just want to feel better #i just want to feel loved #i just want to feel okay #i just want to feel wanted #why doesn't anyone care #why am i like this #why doesnt anyone like me #can anyone hear me? #i'm screaming #this is my plea

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Is it too much to ask to just meet someone who makes me feel special??

Is it just wishful thinking that I could ever know someone who looks at me like I put all the stars in the sky? Am I worthy of a wistful smile from someone who thinks I'm wonderful? Or am I just another speck of stardust, little more than sand and gravel? Or am I just utterly unspectacular and bland?

#lonely #depressed #poem? maybe #idk #does this count #am i special #just wanna be loved #just wanna be happy #sick of all this pain #if misery loves company where's my companion?

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

I just want to feel ok again...

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Chains

We all wear chains.

They’re just different chains.

My chains are wrapped around my very soul and they’re invisible and there are so damn many of them. My chains keep me stranded on the ground when I’d rather fly. They keep me silent when I want to scream. They make me feel empty in my room late at night as they keep me trapped, too scared to go out and do anything, too scared to step out of the familiar comfort of a bed in the corner and a laptop screen where no one knows my name or my face. My chains keep me from sleeping and drive me to the point of exhausting myself every day and knowing I can’t take a nap or I won’t sleep that night, I cannot sleep until it’s almost impossible to keep my eyes open because I’ve driven myself beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and kept going until there weren’t even fumes left in the tank, but not even 8 hours can help you recover from that. My chains keep me from talking to new people and sometimes even from talking to people I’ve known for years, sometimes my entire life. My chains ruin relationships and kill my dreams. My chains are mental illnesses and I wear them hidden and with shame. 

I hide my anxiety under the words shy and quiet and a fear of public speaking and I bottle up the fear. I tell no one of how damn close I got to not one, not two, but five panic attacks just last week. I tell no one that it’s not just because I’m awkward that I hate recording myself and tell no one that the entire time I was filming that introduction video for one of my classes I wanted to scream and die and almost just didn’t do it. I almost just forfeited the 10 points of that assignment because I hate recording myself because I’m scared and I’m anxious and I hate myself. 

I hide my depression under small smiles and the excuse that I’m just tired and I am tired, I’m so tired all the time because I don’t sleep enough and that’s just one of the symptoms of depression, but it’s never been a just tired situation there’s always so much more. I hide my depression behind laughter and by hiding myself away. I stay on my laptop watching videos and tv and movies and I pretend that the reason I never leave the room and the reason I sometimes just skip eating is that I’m lazy or I forget or I’m just a homebody or I have a lot of homework. When the truth is that there’s a dark cloud hanging over me all the time and it suffocates me and it won’t let me go. 

Almost everyone knows about my insomnia though, I don’t hide that, there’s no point when I live with four other people who can very well see that I was still awake when they were going to bed at midnight. I don’t hide my insomnia because I use it as an excuse for the symptoms of my depression and my anxiety. Everyone knows that I don’t sleep and can’t sleep and that if I’m not utterly exhausted at least I can’t sleep. 

These are the chains I wear and I’d give everything to get rid of them, to be free of them. I’d give everything to exchange them for someone else's...Not to trivialize anyone else’s struggles but I’d rather wear chains that burden me differently, chains that are just as hard to carry for different reasons because I’m breaking under this strain. I’m breaking under the weight and I know the only reason I’m still alive today to write this is because of the religion I was raised in. The religion that told me it was a sin to damage my skin, that my body was precious and to slice it up would be a sin.  The religion that told me that taking life any life was a sin. The religion that made me fear a look of disappointment and pain from a God that would greet me when I died. Then I kept growing and I read things online stories about people who had lost someone to suicide or about the effects and I heard the news, so much news about celebrities that had committed suicide and oh how it hurt, how it hurt to hear that some of my favorite artists had killed themselves. So I refrain, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still think about it, I don’t still stare at my razor and wonder what it would be like to drag it across my skin. I know I never will, I know I’ll never actually go through with any of it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me when I lay awake at night thinking about throwing myself off a bridge or off the tallest building I can find or even just one too tall to be jumping off of. So, yes while I know we all wear chains and that they just hurt differently. I’d give anything to be free of my own. I’d give anything to not look at a bridge or tall building and wonder what it would be like to jump off and die having finally known what it was like to try and fly. I’d give anything to be free of that...

#depression #anxiety #insomnia #mental disorder #pain #misery #suicidal #suicide #self-harm #depressing #confession #writing #attempting to be free #self therapy #therapeutic writing #i'm just tired #so tired #and scared #i'm terrified

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

I just…..

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

“The world does not console me, does not hold me,”

— Birhan Keskin, from And Silk and Love and Flame: Poems; “Water,”

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

“Kiss me like you mean it, and tell me everything is going to be alright.”

—

F.S @writewhatyousee

[writingstosoothacenturyofpain]

Ashes

Let me die surrounded by ashes...

Let me die laying on a bed of ashes, the soft bed of lies they are. A promise of soft landing as they lay there piled before me only to collapse and fall from under me, no support, nothing but falsehood in their gray solemnity as I finally lay down to rest from all that has happened, all that I have and haven't been.

Let me die surrounded by ashes, remnants of what was once. The charred pieces of my victories, victories that I gained only through the destruction, victories stolen from me by uncontrollable flame. The empty remnants of what I loved devoured by the cruelty and heat of life a powerful sun bearing down on me, the darkened pieces of things once beautiful. Let me die surrounded by all that remains of all I ever had, all I ever loved, and everything I destroyed and everything that was ever taken from me. Let me die surrounded by unrecognizable memories and endless pain, the harsh truth of all I've done and haven't. 

Let me die surrounded by ashes, falling like snow, beautiful and tainted and ruined. Let them stain my skin as they land on me and smear with my last movements, my last struggle against all I've done and all that has been done to me. Let them paint my skin and tarnish me with all the broken promises, lies, and hurt they contain, everything that was shattered and destroyed let it lay against my skin and in one last act of cruel defiance settle onto my skin and mark me with their color and their hopelessness. Let them drown me in their soft presence, let me choke on their chalky emptiness, let their violence fill my lungs and stomach until I breathe out the same tattered gray. 

Let me die surrounded by ashes, let me die amidst my own turmoil, the ruination I caused, the people and places I destroyed, what I could never save. Remind me of my failures every race in which I came up short every out in the baseball game of life. It is the only thing fitting for someone such as I...let me die as I have lived choking, scrambling, struggling, crawling, and falling...let me die as I have lived unable to breathe filled by the pain this world has forced down my throat. 

Let me die surrounded by ashes so the world will know my story, the pale decimation that clung to me and filled my soul, the light airy destruction that dragged me down and swallowed me whole devouring every bit of me and leaving nothing spotless. Let me die surrounded by the evidence that it was the world that took me and dragged me down, that it was the very society in which I was raised that filled my lungs with black and gray and tainted, no white left unmarred by their elongated fingers that bore down through my chest and clawed out my heart, that ripped out my throat and destroyed my voice the only part of me I had left. Let me die surrounded by my final scream of desperation, the destruction I caused in my wake being my final plea a message too late for me but maybe not for society's next martyr, the next poor youth they twist and stomp on and claw at, the next youth they pin down and force to consume the ashes of their own failures as if it is somehow their fault when they couldn't be more wrong. How could we the poor rising generation be the cause of a problem that started long before we were born and yet you make us wear your failures as our claims to existence, your problems hang around us like chains of diamonds while you poison us with guilt and shame for loving who we love or what we love for loving at all. We are devoured and torn apart by claws and burned at pyres all for the simple fact that we decided to give a damn about who we were and are and the world we live in now. We look out for each other and a handful of ash is pushed down our throats, we love anything and our hearts are clawed out by your long ashen fingers, we do anything but merely exist and march on in your wasted landscape and we are condemned and broken and destroyed.

So let me die surrounded by ashes so that I can no longer be ignored so that when my family screams why I can finally be heard, let me die surrounded by ashes so that others don't have to. Let me die surrounded in ashes my name a fiery brand on the people who knew me to defend them from the likes of those who turned me into this misshapen mess, a fiery seal on their lips to guide their words and give them tongues of fire so no ash can make it down their throat and they can never be silenced. Let me die surrounded by ashes so others can have a voice.

Let me die surrounded by ashes...so others have the choice to live surrounded by flowers...

#ashes #depression #depressing art #poetic #poetic depression #death #dying #suicide