yea I have myself but that’s not fucking enough!!!! I need someone to hold me when I’m cold. to kiss me every damn time when I’m sad. to speak to me when I’m feeling alone. I just need someone who’s real and loves me and is just kinda there. because I can’t hold myself, kiss myself. I can speak to myself but that would be totally insane. I can’t safe me by myself.
// I got dressed this morning. for myself.
Put on eye liner. for myself.
Put on my favorite red lipstick. for myself.
Showed a bit of skin. for myself
I wanted to be beautiful. for myself //
I tried to hold myself together. I tried to keep my sadness down. I told myself that Iโm going to be okay. I told myself that I was strong, that I was happy. But how many more times do I have to keep on lying to myself to believe it?
I sit here and tell myself that I gotta move on, that I need to start making myself happy, that you truly don’t matter and that I can be without you. Then I fall asleep and dream of you, wake up in sweats, wake up in tears and it’s like everything I told myself is forgotton.
I had not been myself for a long while, I thought. I looked like me and I smelt like me, but I was somewhere else, somewhere far away. It saddened me, the thought that life went on without me and people thought that that was the real me. This stiff, distant, blank person. Underneath my skin was so much life, so much vivacity, but no one ever saw that because I closed myself off and shut myself away.
sometimes i forget how many times i’ve picked myself off the floor, how many times i’ve washed away smudgy makeup and put myself to bed. how many times i’ve said no to something unhealthy. said yes to something good. how many times i’ve treated myself with kindness and patience. i forget how many times i’ve tended to wounds and made peace with my own anger. if i was taking care of a body that was not my own, i’d believe i was doing everything i could. so here’s to remembering that i’m doing the best i can.
I always write about people and the way they make me feel. But when it comes down to writing about myself I canโt, my mind always turns blank. Iโm at loss for words and it frustrates me because I want to see myself through my eyes, but I canโt, not yet anyways.
