Cuttlefish Love

I've come to the conclusion that it is not you that I will miss, but being touched. With how uncomfortable I am with being held, hugged, kissed, fondled or even bumped into, I will miss it from then on from just you and some others. A whore I might become in this conclusion but a whore in need of caress over sex. Never will I need sex more than a session of cuddling. Never.

Slippers

Flip flop. Flip flop. It was nice to feel more important. I feel cheated, ironically. Back and forth, another tug of war with opposite thinkers. Tight clothes brings men, they say, but why would I want to suffocate myself only to be suffocated more? I want a comfortable man to myself. A fresh but warm silk love. It's gone now, bringing it all back down to the wet sand. All I can think is imagery. A cloud of sediment rises up in the water as I drown and then begins to settle, just like in snow globes. I was a ship, I was a woman, but I've been brought back down to unfound treasure. 

It's lonesome at the bottom of the sea.

Another Day

I'm a month closer to turning 18 as the fights break out. Arguments here, disagreements there. I want to have friends, to live a life where I can laugh and be comfortable but my mom's mind prevents that. Her distrust and closed-minded way of thinking interfere and all I can hope for is a box of solitude. My room is not longer a place to hide, or sit comfortably at a computer bored for the rest of my life. I know she wants me safe, but that isn't all she wants. I leave no trace of having friends but the echos that ring through the empty house I live in. Empty, unlike other homes. Erika's home is empty too, vacant in the rooms and the walls show no family past, is her life like mine?

Everyday I used to walk into my home and clean what I can before retreating into my room for alone time. Time spent always with an aging face and a sickening screen where my friends weren't real or tangible. I try to break free but she reels me back in a clawed grip. She says move out, she screams and yells, is unreasonable, throws tantrums but then throws on not a mask but an entire cloak whenever someone is over. She has no dignity, to sense of manners, and it ruins me. She learns from that stupid spick. That piece of shit she married over marrying the wonderful person who I came to call dad for so long, but so suddenly left my life.

I search for my home and at the same time I suppose my heart, since home is where the heart is. Where is it when your comfort levels have dropped to your skin feeling like a grating sand paper coat? Where is it when your eyes twitch with a sting and your throat vomits things that don't fit? Where is it when insides feel like dust and the rest of you seems more like plastic? Where is it when your own family doesn't act like a family, but a group of uncivilized maroons.

Homeless; Dadless

It's a question. Whenever I ask myself whats wrong I answer it but today my answer was "I want to go home". I was standing in my kitchen asking myself that question, asking myself what was wrong and why I was feeling the way I was. Then I looked down at the box of batteries in my hand and thought of my step dad. I thought of how he'd been there since I was 2 and how so suddenly he left my life at 14. I thought about why he left and where I was now, why I hadn't talked to him more about it.

Even now as I walk out of my room and practically become crippled with pain I consider if I should talk to him or not. So many people in my life influence the way I think and act and never have I found a man who obeyed the law or was honest in his actions. 

After going downstairs and hiding my face away from my friends and into the crest of my mothers neck I've lost what I wanted to truly say. The urge to bawl still lingers but as my friends remain in my room I keep my throat shut tight and my eyes hidden with the back of my head.

Man Nerds

It's always a competition, a game to one-up but not as fun as Mario. A manner-less, selfish game to make the other down, down the other, it's life. To get money, to get power, credits, and to get a reputation that proceeds what you actually are. Rudeness brings rudeness, but niceness brings shame. A life to live with an urge of guilt or a fall of shame, to your knees you go.

I went out for a bit, got distracted, and lost my mojo.  

Sun Yellow

The intensity of things makes them easier to identify, correct. The intensity of colors. An intense, bright yellow is obviously yellow, the same goes for blue, red, magenta, macaroni and cheese, whatever. Is it the same for feelings? The more intense the easier to know what it is you are feeling? I like to think so. So there is an explanation for outrageous actions and pursuing an issue, to know. To identify the feeling! All a better reason to understand adrenaline junkies, to know. To get the fuel and to be the understander.

aghhh if my head didn't hurt, I'd be able to focus. Forget this.

Highschool Angst

It's another place to be pretend maturity but the real test is when you've been thrown down into the pit of confliction. When you're angry is when you show your true colors. Whether flinging chairs around the room or sitting quietly and thinking to yourself, maturity is a test of anger. I'll justify myself, sure, but when I'm angry I might not be so mature as I've been complimented to be so.