I Chase

 I find myself chasing the art of the Sad Girl,

You know,

The creative, ominous, ambiguous vibe that She puts forth.

That mystery that continues to run wild in the moonlight. 

My how I've mastered her at such a young age, and continue to chase her through my lows. 

She's such a beautiful mess- one that I understand so deeply...

One whose words cut like razorblades across a mirror- etching in the word "Hopeless"

What a pretty little mess.

But she's not as cute and airy in your thirties... and probably even less cute in your forties... but damn, she always seems to look good. 

Am I seeing her right? 

Whiskey lingers on her breath,

Her chest gets red,

Xanax slows her breathing,

Mascara smudges under her eyes...

She pinches her thighs- imagining she was just a bit thinner.

And her eyes...

Those eyes...

Crave light. 

Off Switch

 Where is the off switch?

Have I lost it under my clothes?

Or is it tucked beneath my wavy hair? 

Only Goddess truly knows.

Where is the off switch?

The one that allows me to exhale,

The one that allows my smile to soften-

And allows my heart to be frail.

Where is the damn off switch?

I'm tired, and just need some rest.

My heart still aches, 

The sparkle in my eyes feels forced at times,

And I can barely catch my breath.

Where is the fucking off switch?

I'd peel back my skin, to feel calm...

To turn off all my thoughts for once, 

And silence my gifted charm.

I check behind my rib cage,

And grip up my beating heart...

Where is this fucking off switch?

I guess, I'll just stay On.

Weird Girl

 You're such a weird girl.

As you lay there- envisioning...

Your anxiety buzzes, bouncing off the walls of this cage you keep your soul in.

You're such a weird girl-

Aching, and heart breaking...

So depressed, and obsessed- but here you are.

You're such an odd one.

You're such a weird girl.

Laying there on your back- 

Slicing yourself vertically with your mind, to peel back the layers of your flesh, to simply relieve the pressure. 

So.

Much.

Pressure.

Each layer that peels back, you feel lighter, and as if you're one step closer to breathing again.

You weird ass girl.

It feels like you're on the precipice of breaking free from this... cocoon? 

You're such a weird, weird girl.

Tired

 I am tired,

My eyes are sunken in, my heart is exhausted, and my mind is filled with the sound of static. 

I am tired,

Of people.

Telling me I'm happy, explaining why I'm happy, or why I should be... I'm so damn tired.

I'm tired of the shallow conversations "Hi, how are you? How was your day?" 

I'm tired of the mundane routine. 

The "I know what to expect" 

I want the universe to shake it up- give me something new. Maybe this year for Christmas, I'll have a better view. A better vision... and maybe for once I'll feel rested, and rejuvenated.  

My love is tapped. 

But there is so much more to give...

This girl, just needs a lot more healing, and a little more rest- maybe more caffeine. 

Frustrating Comfortability Echoes

 Talking to these same four walls again,

The echo bounces back -

It is dark, dry, and desperate to be heard. 

Frustration builds- resentment creeps in,

Here we are again.

I am alone in my own mind,

Alone in my own soul...

Alone in my own sadness.

Broken- and fighting with every ounce left, to be strong.

I ache.

I want seemingly simple things, and feel as if they are not taken as seriously as I hope...

I feel this so comfortably,  uncomfortable pattern penetrating my soul again- and it is like a dagger through my lung... collapsing it, leaving me gasping for air...gripping at my chest,  as if my hand could magically patch it.

I hate the comfortable.

I am comfortably NUMB.

And it infuriates me.

I need CHANGE 

And I need it NOW...

Before all hope and fire for life is gone. 

I shall find the ember, and foster it back to a flame. I will fight. I will not give up, regardless of how messy- and how solitary the journey.

I will figure it the fuck out.

Sitting in Sadness

 Sadness is not something you can run from,

Not something you can hide from. 

Sadness can be all consuming,

Drowning, in a way.

Like you are suffocating- being smothered with grief. 

Being choked by loss.

Gasping for air, as your ankles are weighted down with doubt...

Hope escaping your lungs with each moment that passes. 

The pressure builds, and your eyes feel heavy-

Like they might explode with salty bursts of weakness... of expression.

Note- expression is not weakness.

But the world and its cruelty can make us feel fable and frail.

It's frightening. 

It's lonely.

But it can help us grow.

I. Am. Not.

 I.

Am.

Not.

Okay.

I feel it in my bones,

In my chest- in my soul.

The vibration is so high, 

So intense,

So overwhelming. 

I don't want to say it out loud,

Because then,

I have to 

Feel it.

See it.

Hear it.

Be it.

But...

I 

Am

Not

Okay.

I'd rather suffer in silence,

Than break in the spotlight -

And maybe that will be my demise.

I love that I hate it,

I'm shaking, and aching. 

I'm screaming at the top of my lungs,

But only inside. 

Clawing and kicking, 

And screaming- believing...

That maybe,

In the next moment,

It'll pass.

But then I'm found spiraling, 

On all of those wild things-

That make me and break me instead.