Skip to main content

October 18th, 2010



Finding Myself  

I've learned more about myself in the last few weeks than the two years
that I have been tied down to one heart.

I also have not had many moments where I wanted to 
pull out my friend-- to cut all my worries into little pieces!
Only a few times,
I promise.
But a few times is better than everyday of my life.

I have another face that I see now before I commit to that first cut.
This face is different though.
This face  isn't helping me do it.
This face isn't causing my pain, my low self-esteem.
This face doesn't just try to make the pain go away with a dark joke.
He actually cares.

Everything is so different with him.
I'm so comfortable around him.
At one moment we will be talking about movies and 
then out of no where, I'll spill some of my deepest secrets...without any regret.


But I love the one who adds to the pain.
The one who has a place on my skin, 
all red and faded.
Always there when I need it though...
which is too often.

Who the hell has places on their skin designated for each person that hurts them...?
Me.
The stupid girl that can't just "get over it".

And now...
the "bandage" is showing up on my cell phone's screen,
butterflies are flying too much in my stomach,
while at the same time,
I'm torturing myself for letting the one who "loves" me persuade me to do, 
again, what he wants.

How did I get into this mess?

All I did was be myself.

-Belle Rose

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Excellent Auburn Jewel

Dear Washington, You consumed my joy yet you also added smile You stole my proof-- Proof that there is such thing as fate, that there is such thing as defeating one's fears, and meeting your wish, on the road to Damascus. Take care of my joy, my wish Take care of my Friend
Post a Comment
Read more

Alone

Alone This has happened before, fighting on my own. Self-hatred and sadness, thin marks, and bruised bone. The urges still haunt me, I see red and relief  The pain still controls me, that old friend, a thief. Stealing my sanity, my strength, my progress My brush needs a canvas ,I'll gently  caress  I have missed you, master,  the love you have shown. Convincing and charming, making me feel alone. Belle Rose 
Post a Comment
Read more

Memories

Boxed up with a bow, gift beautiful, secure wrapped in soft cloth, feeling happy and sure. Now the tape is torn,not well kept together cut open with holes, tossed like a weak feather.  The gift is shattered, but remains in that box damaged, unworthy, weighed down by giant rocks.  Rocks that dent the shape, that was rebuilt so well admired gently, ringing praises like a bell.  Fixed way too quickly, ripped apart in pieces scattered everywhere, the burden increases. Swept up in one scoop, little noise to the ears. Swept up in one day, a gift wrapped for eight years. -Belle Rose
Post a Comment
Read more