He is my everything
Almighty, the sun burning my cheeks
The nighttime stars and compass I follow in blindness
His touch a gift bestowed, and I know I’m not worthy
I’m plain and simple and ordinary but
This devotion is all I can offer you
He is my morphine
I gasp for more of him, withdrawal tearing my lungs from my chest
I’m bleeding from wounds I never knew existed
Until he returns, kisses making me high
Everything is razor sharp and glorious
But he’ll leave, he always leaves me
Alone in this darkness
I am nothing
Somewhere in all of this I’ve lost myself
My own story written in second person
With him as my sun, all that’s left for me to do
Is weakly reflect whatever he throws my way
This is all a lie
This cage is myself
I built my own handcuffs
All these years of living in his shadow when I am my own star
Throw away misery, drown this slave’s heart
Put on a party dress to parade into the light
I am my own
I am no mirror, designed only to reflect you
This story is not about you
And neither am I.
You are the kind of person that gives me hope
You are the kind of person that makes my heart feel lighter
You are the kind of person that brightens up a room
You are the kindest person
And you deserve every happiness that befalls you.
Our world is all about the superficial. We’re judged on our beauty. Commercials brainwash us into thinking that if we are beautiful, we will be happy. The world convinces us that all you need is looks and sex and clothes and your life will be complete.
Sometimes, I lose all hope in humanity. I’m just so fed up. I hate the way I never feel comfortable in my own skin, hate the way strangers judge me based on my clothes, hate the way people are hurting themselves, damaging themselves, killing themselves… because they feel like they don’t fit in. It’s not right. The world is drunk on money and shallow, meaningless things that don’t lead to happiness but frenzied obsession.
Relationships, too – those meaningless ones that are full of pleasantries and social etiquette but don’t mean anything. ‘How are you? Did you have a good weekend?’ – asking questions but not caring, not listening, to what the answer is.
I want to know people. I want to know about their relationships with their parents, what they’re passionate about, those little things that they hate. Who their role model is. Who they are irritated by. I just want to crack open someone’s head and read their mind, find out what makes them tick. I want people to feel like they can talk to me about what bothers them. I want people to feel content with themselves and to be able to be themselves around me.
I want to find somebody who will talk about everything, from the mundane to the magical.
It’s not really ask I just need to tell you something. I was going to tell you today but it didn’t seam right. But. I like you… a lot. A lot, a lot. Me
I’m not sure how to respond to that
Do you know what, I’ve figured out what I want.
I want someone to love me.
I want someone to hold me.
I want someone who is interested in my drafts of stories, interested in what I do.
I want someone who listens to me.
I want someone that I can love, wholeheartedly, that I can trust, that I can tell everything. Someone that won’t judge, that won’t joke when I’m being serious, that won’t make snarky comebacks and comments at my expense, that won’t talk about me behind my back.
Someone that I can rely on to be there in my time of need.
Someone that I can be silent with.
Someone that I don’t need to explain myself to.
I’m fed up with the superficial relationships we have to go through. I want to get to the heart of you. I want to know what people do, what they think about, what they stress and worry about. I want to know what people at school care most about – I want to know whether they love their brothers, I want to know if they resent their step-father, if they think he’s taken the place of their real father. I want to know everything. I want a relationship that actually means something.
I want someone.