I drew back the curtains only to see the worst of me through your eyes. I spent time, money, and emotions on making you happy and comfortable and in the end it burst into flames.
I used to think I was wrong, maybe I wasn’t half as good as I thought. Could I just be a horrible person confused as to what or who I am?
I did in months what you spent 26 years trying to do. But, were you really? I mean I had him here 6 months sober. When you came to stay he was so happy. We turned this house into a home for all of us. We ate dinner together and laughed and there was so much joy.
But that six pack a week turned into a 30-pack a day, suddenly there was $100 dollar bottles of kratum on my debit card. Every other weekish? I didn’t keep count. I wanted to help you. I knew he was just trying to spend time with you and he didn’t over do it, so I didn’t say much. He was just happy to be with you.
So, when he as a recovering addict slips up
LIKE RECOVERING ADDICTS DO
You blame me? When you flaunt his vice in front him and expect him not to mess up. I asked him to slow down, I tried to say small things IN FRONT OF you so you would notice. So you will not blame me. This is was his choice and his alone. His constant was interrupted and he had some rough times, and a mistake. His fuck up is not your blame to place.
This is in no way my fault. And for me too open my home and my heart to you and you blame me because he made a bad, but human mistake? You will not make that my burden. I have loved this man with every fiber of my being since the day I met him. I have been there through everything for two years, only 6 months of that dating. I have supported him and spoken love into his life every day that I fucking could. Our story is not anything you can have any opinion about. I have given him everything, even when I wasn’t his choice because his inner battle was bigger. I fought with him for him. And you will not take that from us.
I tend to believe I can save the world, I blame this on My Chemical Romance, or possibly my parents. I have an insatiable need to help those who are broken and alone. But at what cost?
You see I was raised by two drug addicts, so I spent the majority of my teenage years trying to save those I love most from drug addiction. I lived in a trap house for months at 15 trying to save my sister from her abusive drug addicted boyfriend, when I was around he didn’t hit her as much. I spent most of my nights reading books while strangers came in and out to get high and leave. How I escaped drug addiction I have no idea. I suppose this was the start of me trying to save everyone, because 5 years later I moved my mother in with me and helped give her stability in order to become clean and sober. I tried this same tactic with my dad, however this time I failed. This was my first real life lesson in you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
I have spent my life building others up, forgetting that building myself was the most important thing I could ever do. My wardrobe is filled with broken exes, unrequited love and my own toxicity. All things I have continued to wear, covering the stains with my love for those in need because I fail to give up and save myself. My desperation to make a difference has clouded my ability to fully love myself through anything. For years I have given out pieces of myself and at the end of the day I am completely drained. So what am I left with? I am left with myself, and I deserve all the love I am trying to give everyone else.
Loving yourself more than others when you have spent your life putting others first is difficult. I had to build myself up from harsh words and spiteful venom pouring from the mouth of a self hated man. I had to learn to fall asleep without crying again, to look in a mirror and not be depressed about what I seen. Slowly I have undid the damage that was inflicted and healing wounds that were bleeding out. I had to learn that self medicating only made me worse. I had to forgive in order to move on and fully heal myself so I could grow into a better a woman. I am far from the woman I meant to be, but everyday I wake up and I keep going. Healing is messy and difficult and sometimes downright painful. I would rather be a better me than remain a broken me.
I’m a serial killer.
But it’s not what you think.
You see I lost everything
and I’m slowly gaining it back.
For every step I take towards glory
I pick up the darkness I tried to leave behind.
I’m a serial killer because I kill myself over and over again and bring myself to my knees.
Everytime I get up I find a way to break myself again.
For every red flag waved in my face I suddenly become color blind.
I’m a serial killer.
Because my mind doesn’t match my heart.
Tonight I learned grace.
Tonight I learned that you can’t hate someone for being human. Even when you want to.
You were so damn good, from the very beginning. You were easy when everything else in my life was complicated.
While I battled myself and my mind, you created a calm clearing you filled with laughter and acceptance.
Comfort and trust soon turned into feelings. Feelings that would soon be unreturned.
While my heart hurts I understand. I understand not being ready. You can’t force what isn’t there. And I respect that you finally gave me the truth.
I may cry while I write this.
But it’s sadness and happiness. I’ll miss everything you gave me. But in the short time of talking to you, I learned so much. I learned things no one else could ever show me and I’m beyond grateful.
Despite the outcome.
You are one of the best people I have ever met.
And you showed me there’s more than I’ve been given if I’m ever ready. Even if you won’t be the one giving it any longer.
The cool breeze touches my skin
a peaceful reminder of life before
The crickets remind me of home
a place I left so long ago.
I feel content with the world around me.
For so long I’ve hated me
A mirror my enemy
Slowly I see
All the peace I’ve been begging for.
I can already taste the lips of sin
Drips of honey across my skin
Hope in fingertips
Tracing in fire
Jumping in storms
So now what do I do?
The night is my favorite place to be.
The comforting blanket of darkness
Brings me to a home I yearn for.
The best things are found in darkness.
The being inside someone that hides is my favorite person to meet.
I don’t want your perfect ideology and prince charming.
I want your soul. I want your pain that has made you who you are.
I want every scar and broken heart you’ve had.
I want to meet every demon you have ever fought and survived.
I want the realest, rawest form of you that you could give.
I want to sit in darkness with you surrounded by the comfort of what haunts us.
There was always this look you would give me. It was like, love and awe shined from your beautiful brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat everytime I saw it.
I loved you even more for the way you looked at me. Like I was the only person in the whole world. I had never known what that felt like.
But now, i can’t rememebr the last time you looked at me like that. I can’t remember the last time you told me you loved me and I felt the words instead of hearing them. I would give anything for that moment.
I have spent the last few months watching the shine in your eyes fade away. I’ve watched the love I always saw slowly turn into distaste. My heart shatters in a million pieces every morning because when I first wake up, I forget.
Nothing you ever learn in life prepares you for this. Nothing prepares you for soul shattering pain.