Confessional.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned

And god knows I’d do it again

To have him lying under my sheets

Though time and time again he cheats

But I love to feel the beat in his chest

When I’m draped across him I can rest

And when his breathing turns to a snore

That’s when I know I’m doomed to adore

This twisted man I hate so much

But long for his cold, unfeeling touch

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned

And I know that I’ll do it again

To hear his voice as he’s telling me lies

To live in his world; he loves when I cry

To be so close to his perfect face

The memories I can’t erase

And I’m not scared of the consequence

I’ve got all the evidence

He’s no good, he’s a liar, a devil, a rat

But to sit where he has sat

To feel his breath warm on my neck

God, I know that I’m a wreck

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned

And we both know that I’ll do it again.

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Tremble and a Cappuccino.

I wanna be in love

Like a fucking bonfire

Large and loud and thunderous

And burning like nothing else could

I wanna be in love; I wanna be happy

I want a white picket fence and a white dress too

I wanna two-floor house with a porch swing and a backyard

And white plush carpet in the living room

I wanna be in love

So badly

But I was in love once

And that didn’t really work out too well

So next time I want to love someone better

And maybe be able to say “forever”

But, “hope is the thing which has feathers”

So it always flies away

I wanna be in love

But then again I wanted you to stay

Your Broken Heart Doesn’t Justify Your Bullshit Selfish Behavior.

I think that because at the core of our humanity we are broken, and we have deep feelings that hurt and claw at us, and because we were good to one person or that we feel things so wholeheartedly that we think we’re good people. I feel like our connection to our own emotions tricks us into thinking that we’re good people when we’re not. I’m not a good person. I take advantage of the people around me. I take my life and those closest to me for granted. I have done terrible things for which I’ve never apologized. But for some reason, my own broken, destroyed heart decided I was a good person who didn’t understand why all of these horrible things were happening to me. I was talking to God, or the Universe, or the Great Divine, or whatever higher power there is out there. I was speaking out in pure desperation. I said, “God please, bring me the love that I want. Give me a sign. Show me that I’ll find someone other than you-know-who to love. Give me someone that I can love that will love me back as well. I am in so much pain, and I’ll never love anyone again the way that I loved him and that’s terrifying. I just want to be loved by someone I love with everything I have.” Then I stopped, paused mid-desperation prayer, and spoke aloud, “I guess I probably deserve all this. I’m not a good person. I like to think I’m a good person because I gave love and loyalty to one person that I fear I may never recover from.” What I realized in the midst of this breakdown is that maybe I don’t deserve to be happy yet. I have loose ends I’ll never tie. I have hearts I can never mend. I have the weight of all of my bad and selfish decisions on my shoulders. Until I start being a better person, I probably won’t ever have a better life. I play the victim. I play the broken-hearted writer with a soul like glass wobbling on the edge of a rickety coffee table. But I’m not GOOD. I’m not selfless. I’m selfish. I’m cruel. I’m a liar and a user and a heartbreaker and a damager. I am the man I so love that gave me nothing but heartache. I am no different than him at all. Perhaps even worse because I don’t even have an excuse. So, from now on, I’m going to try to be better. No more selfish drunken decisions that hurt others. No more playing this victim that in my own heart and soul I am, but in reality I cannot be because I’ve done everything to myself. I just hope that I can stick to trying. Stick to being this better person that I HAVE to be because otherwise I’ll never truly be happy. Even in saying this I realize how selfish I truly am. That I want to change my ways in order for the end result to benefit me, myself, and I. How tragic is that. My broken, damaged, emotional wreck of a self is not proof that I am a good person that’s had a hard life. It is proof that I am a bad person that’s given myself a lonely road to walk down. It just fucking feel so damn AWFUL because I still just want to feel true love and joy again when what I SHOULD want is to feel absolved and clear of conscience. This is hard. It’s so hard. To be this terrible person but to have all of these feelings that make lonely and depressed and dark and damaged and bogged down. Do I deserve to be happy? Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it anyway.

 

So this is my existential crisis. I am not a good person. I do not make decisions that are good for those around me. I do not think of others. I think only of myself. I am selfish and cruel and coldhearted and destructive. But still…I want to be fucking happy. I am a criminal of moral. Yet I expect no jail time. I feel like this isn’t fair, but it is. More than fair. I have a family that’s there for me when I need them, I have a daughter that loves me despite my lack of motherhood skills, I have friends that actually care what happens to me despite the fact that I use them and ignore them and hurt them. What in the fuck is wrong with me?

 

I have got to be better. I have got to try. Because if I don’t…everyone around me will suffer, and I will suffer just as much. Their suffering is a direct reflection of my own. I’m just a fucking mess. And I’m not sure how to clean it up.

Don’t Doubt Your Own Beauty Don’t Doubt Your Own Heart. Don’t Doubt Your Own Life.

Sometimes I wish I could inhabit another body

The body of someone more beautiful

Someone younger

Someone without all the baggage I have weighing me down

Sometimes I wish I could be that perfect girl you see in the movies

With the white picket fence and the adoring husband

But then I remember

How beautiful I am

Because every shred of pain

Anger

Anxiety

Heartbreak

Addiction

Disaster

Disgust

Promiscuity

That all has made me someone that I never thought I would become

Someone with something to say

Someone with perspective

Experience

Wisdom

Someone that isn’t perfect

But instead cracked and broken and distorted by the sands of time and the pain of experiences better left unexperienced

And then I feel okay again

Because I may not be the beautiful perfect wife in the beautiful perfect house

But what I am

Is so

Much

More.

Shaun.

Sometimes I think there’s a hope, a chance, sometimes I think so, I do.

But then the words spill out of your mouth, and I watch your tongue dance the way you do.

And the words are sharp and grating, I can almost smell that expensive cologne

That you stole from the man your ex was dating, I can smell it through the phone

And you say these things about how you want me

But only in the way that you’ve always wanted me

Here, on the floor, on my knees, worshiping you like you are god

And I am always on my knees with you

And I don’t think it’s fair to

Invade my body, my temple

Unless you care to invade my soul

You only want what’s tangible

You want what’s under my clothes, but not what’s under my skin and bones

You remind me every time that we speak that we are no longer meant to be

I loved you once, I love you now, I’ll love you until the end of time

But I’ve learned to treat my soul better

Than you ever treated my body

And I will not accept the love I think I deserve anymore

I will accept the love that I know I am not worthy of

Someday someone will love me with ferocity, with fire, with every beat of their heart

And no I won’t deserve it.

I’m not good enough for that kind of love.

But it will be mine regardless

And you will grow up someday and wish that it was you that burned your fire into me

Instead of leaving me cold and blue

And I will not be sorry

Because I know that I will be free

Free of the tyranny that you imposed on me

My god, my love, my everything

Someday, you will be nothing.

The Many Miles and Reservations That Separate Us

It’s 11:23 and I can’t sleep

It’s late and I have to be up early

But I’m stuck on this couch with the television playing

Monotone voices all blended and mocking me

All I can think about is talking to you

But I’m not so sure that you want to

And I’m resisting the urge to call you again

To send you a message

Tell you how I’ve been

It’s so hard when I want to reach out

But you’re so far away I’d never be able to touch you

And to tell you all of these things

These things that I’m feeling would mean

Rejection

And hurt and fear and hurt

And rejection

And hurt

So I stay radio silent

Like the good girl that I’m trying to be

I’m holding it back

I’m holding it in

Because I wouldn’t even know where to begin

And I’d hate to bother you

To light up your phone

One to many times in a day

In a week

And I am weak

But silent I’ll stay

It’s better that way

Because to reach out so far

And never get to touch you

Would be the most tragic story

Ever left untold