Sigh

Ok I think there is something wrong with her right now! She permanently wants to cry, and when thats not happening, she feels the need to spill her guts and life history to everyone and anyone around her at that time (poor them, screw mi) and then I have to listen to the 'why the hell did I just say/do that' speech that follows...like oh barely 10 seconds later!
What. The. Fuck???

Its sad watching her sad though. I think what happened is someone tried to open that box, maybe she did, and then realized too late that it was a bad idea. Sure the box is sealed closed now, but the thought of the pain in there alone is what is eating at her. And I think and shudder at that thought. If the mere thought of what is inside the box makes her so, then what would happen when the day finally comes and the box must be opened? I have more bets on a funeral than on a redemption here...

But can you blame her? I know even I cant give you a straight answer to that. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't. But one thing is for sure though, until the air is cleared again, there is no way to help her. There is nothing to say that would make the pain go away. Only way to go is forward with words. So until the air clears, standing still is the only thing I can do. So I have to sit here and watch her bleed herself internally, and pray and hope she doesn't say so much shit that I have to make her bleed on the outside as well.

Now if only I could tell what started this, it would be easier to say 'it won't happen again.' But we both know that's all bull. And we both know that's what makes me sad the most.

Love/hate

I want to cry so hard right now,
but the tears won't fall.
I want to laugh so hard right now,
but the emotions wont blend.
Is it so bad that I hate and love them at the same time?
Is it so bad that they do not know that I feel this way?

I know whatever I do, it would always be them then mi.
I know no matter how hard I try to get gone,
I would never be able to forget that fact.
Is it so bad that I wish to be them for a second at least?
Is it so bad that I don't like them much when they don't like themselves?

I step out and watch it try to move,
And that has been, till date, the one thing that has made mi want to puke.
It is hard for mi to get nauseous, so when I do, it is serious.
i do for it, so I think it is serious.
We pretty fucked up aint we?

I made a promise to mi,
But then when you do that, it is kinda hard to tell fake from reality.
Of course not with mi,
I mean we have established that fact right?

I got shit for last night,
Probably gonna get some more for tonight.
But right now I don't care,
Life seems short and I think a buzz makes it better still.

Its sad that I have fallen into the habit of making boys my 'brother material',
Even sadder that I don't know how to undo that.
But I think later on I would see the silver lining in all of this,
But for now, sad is all I can be.

My ex wrote a poem about 'love being dead'.
It seemed he only realized that now, poor thing.
I wanted to ask him where he had been all this while,
When Love took the high road and never looked back.

But then I keep thinking, 'did I do that to him?'
But that would be too ambitious of mi right?
So I pray and hope some other girls did that,
So I don't add to my list of 'Hate mi' reasons.

Now I am off to bed for the day,
With no boy at hand or in mind, I am fine this way.
Some think I am too scared to admit liking some guys,
Others claim I am in denial.

I think a little bit of both and more would do.
I might want a guy,
But previous expirience makes it hard for mi to believe he wants mi too,
And even harder to believe he wants mi first...

But like I said, I am pretty fucked up tonight.
Had too much to drink and much more to say that I think I would regret in the morning.
But now that I am sobering up and I look back,
I think I had fun.

Sure I said some shit I would rather have kept with mi,
Sure I did somethings I would not have done as just mi,
But all in all, I think I was good.
And I think, no matter what others would say, tonight was a good night.

I do hate them both a lot,
I do not enjoy the nights after I go out with them,
But the times I do,
I try not to think about it too much, and in the end, the night is always a good night...

Disturbed

Voices in her head,
louder,
louder.
'Fake' he says,
She knows it already.
A fraud.
No reason to have a constant national anthem of that playing.
She is fake.
It disgusts her.

Scared.
Terrified of her real self.
Who wouldn't be?
She sits there.
She can see her.
Sitting,
Watching.
A blur really.
But those piercing eyes are clearer than anything.

Hate.
Envy.
For them she feels.
They are free.
No voices,
No guilt.
They are real.
Can't kill them.
Can't join them.
He laughs always cause he knows she would never reach them.

Voices.
Louder.
Not Night as she thought.
Night doesn't hate her so.
Faceless.
He is back.
Brutally honest.
Her mirror.
He would bleed the truth out of her not to help her, but for his pleasure.

Heartless.
Soulless.
Maybe he hates her.
Maybe she hates him.
Yes she hates him.
Yes he hates her.
She tells him always.
He smiles back always.
But he would never voice it out no matter the cause.

Cut.
Remove.
Pull out.
He won't leave.
No matter how many parts she cuts.
He won't leave.
He said three major ones.
First two too painful.
Could not continue.
Too long ago.
And now she's said too much and so people would notice.

Tears.
She won't shed.
He would win.
He can't win.
Suicide.
She won't die.
Cause he would take the credit.
He would win
He can't win.
So she must endure it till she finds another saving grace.

Voices.
Help.
Don't.
Fake.
Fraud.
She disgusts herself.
So she hates her too.
He knows.
So he stays.
He stays.
She he torments.
He torments.
Voices...she yells but no one hears...caged with him forever her heart bleeds...