I’ve become like a walking corpse.
I smile, I talk, I laugh, I cry.
But all the while I’m dead inside.
I inflict pain upon myself to feel.
And in a weird way, when I’m tearing apart my skin with that of a blade, is when I feel more alive.
It’s the only thing that allows me to know that I can still feel.
The insanity in what I do is what keeps me sane.
I’ve become like a walking corpse.
We live in a world where freedom and safety of women is preached.
But why is it still that we, women are treated like the inferiority and looked at like objects.
If a woman is considered ‘fat’ you make her feel ashamed of herself with your judgemental looks and comments.
To others they may seem like just ‘words’, but to the receiving party they’re more than that. They’re statements of self-esteem reduction.
First a girl is fat, she gets thin, then she has bad skin, she goes to extremes to correct that, then it’s her hair, then her nails.
There’s always something wrong. Something to make us feel bad about.
When the world can find so many flaws in an individual, how about when women walking down the street are hooted at.
When we’re inappropriately groped.
When we are stared at like a piece of meat.
How are such disgusting and repulsive flaws of others overlooked as their “character” or worse is when someone tells you to “get over it” as it’s “no big deal”.
These are the matters to be dealt with.
Not what a girl wears, because that’s her own choice.
We need to sequence the order of priorities to be dealt with in our environments.
The pain washes over me like a tsunami.
I can feel me heart break and shatter to an uncountable number of pieces.
And your completely oblivious.
I’m breaking slowly.
My nightmares and reality have become one.
I’ve shut everyone out only no one cares.
I thought that I’d shut myself off trying to be invisible. Only to realise I needn’t try at all as I was invisible to everyone except in their time of need all along.
Now I’m just a worthless piece of scrap no one seems to have any use for.
And all these revelations send me deeper into the depths of depression.
Only. No one is there to pull me out.
I feel so lost.
And there’s no one I can turn to.
No one to cheer me up.
Because there’s no one who genuinely cares.
Everybody is busy getting on with they’re own lives.
And I’m standing in one place.
Without a clue of which way to go.
Its impossible to please everyone with the way we look.
And we’re so focused on trying to have everyone satisfied with the way we look we forget that there’s only one person who’s opinion should matter.
If we’re content with the way we look nothing else matters.
Confidence in how you look is the only ingredient we need to look perfect.
Don’t let others words of judgement define you.
You are who you want to be.
And that’s the best version there is.
In all my life I’ve been told/ called many things; slut, bitch, best friend, sister, nice, whore, kind-hearted, useless, dumb, funny, worthless etc.
And as you can see they’ve varied across many levels.
But there are three particular things that have stayed with me over the years :
1. “I’d have better luck climbing the great wall of China than trying to understand you.”
2. “There’s nothing wrong with you, there’s just something about you that scares people away.”
And the more recent “Nothing ever stays with you does it?”
And I’m usually quite easy going with criticism.
But that last sentence, that was posed as a question.
That really got to me.
Because how do you answer that.
In a way I guess it is true.
I’ve had very few constants in my life.
Everything/ everyone do leave me.
I have no point to make.
This is just me accepting the fact that nothing will ever stay with me for long.
I trusted you, I bore my soul out.
I fell for you, more times than I can count.
Now you’ve turned your back on me, all because you had a single doubt.
Now I’m staring into the memories we’ve made, it’s a heap, a mount.
Whenever you needed a hand to hold I was there.
When you’re fears came at night, I held you tight.
You promised that you wouldn’t be like the rest, you had me fooled, I thought you did care.
Now I regret our memories, as I think back to how you left me in the middle of the night.
I gave you a person you could always count on.
And I thought I had the same in you, but now I realise I’ve been alone all along.
I’m a fool with foolish fantasies and day dreams of all that’ll never be.
I keep thinking back to those times you spent with me.
Every nickname, every inside joke.
Thinking back on this I can all but hold back the tears on a choke.
Can I ever move on from this loss of mine?
Because what we had was so divine.
I can’t help but still be in love with you.
Every time I see your perfect everything this feeling renews.
I guess I’ll always be a fool.
A fool in love with you and only you.
You’re a constant thought on my mind. That’s been more than well established.
But today I wondered.
All this time I’ve spent pondering over questions of what it’s and how it could be.
Now the constant question on my mind.
Do you ever think of me?
Do I cross your mind the way you do mine when I hear our song?
Do I cross your mind when you watch our TV show?
Do I cross your mind when you look up to the skies? Does the light blue shade of sky remind you of our first date?
Do I ever cross your mind at all?