Hormones

I hate hormones. Almost as much as I hate periods. Isn't it great how they are a package deal? I swear I'm ready to rip my hair out one second and just sit down and cry the next. In the words of my mother "No wonder Jake didn't want a ride home with you tonight."
I have so much more to write but I just crashed. I would save this as a draft and write tomorrow, but I know I wont feel the same.
So goodnight.
Sweetdreams.
Please.

Yep. Thats about it. Almost....

I'm sorry. It was too harsh. I wish I could take it back. But that's how I felt. And even though i want to take it back, I'm making myself not. Because otherwise I'll never pipe up again to speak my mind. I'm too afraid to open my mouth when it matters most. And when I do say something, it comes out sounding like its a joke. But its not. It hurts. So bad. Only you could see when I was hurting before. Now it seems like I can fool you too. (Even though I wasn't trying to hide it.)
So kiss me? On the forehead. Like you did at first.
Soothe my heart.
Calm the inner storm.
Wipe the escaping tear.
And kiss me.

I Promise You Need To Know This (Sorry I can't say the words.)

This I Promise you,
Down to the core,
I need you.
I need you by my side.
I need your love.
I need your touch.
But right now,
I need your voice.


I love to please you,
You know that.
-Stop-
I Promise I'm selfish.
Its not all for you.
I do it for me.
Because I'm dying.


Dying for your praise
Dying for compliments
Dying to be told I'm beautiful
Believe it or not,


I Promise I'm self conscious
To the core
It doesn't change.
I'm not conceited,
But I need constant reminder
You said it before
But I need it further,
Often.
I don't lay naked
And watch you dress
because I'm lazy.
I'm waiting...
...

...

...

but that was then,
and I'm still waiting
For you to turn around-
pants halfway on-
and hop back onto my bed,
Just to hold me
Close to you
And look me up
And down
"You are the most beautiful woman I know"
You'd say.
Whether that's true is debatable
but that doesn't matter.
I'd still glow.
But its been almost a year
And,
I Promise,

That has never happened.

I promise,

after we fool around,

and you say I look sad,

I am.

But it's not what you think.

I Promise

I feel used,

again.

Is it that hard

To tell me you love me

When it counts the most?

Not when we get off the phone.

Not when you say good-night.

But when its you and me

alone.

And the rest of the world melts

away

And nothing else is important

To me

But you.

For me,

it doesn't seem that way,

for you.

Its like

Everything else

Is much more important.

Suck it and we're done.

No cuddles

No favor returned

You open your laptop,

Download music

And whatnot.

As I pretend to nap

Holding back the tears.

And I Promise

More than anything

I want this to work.

I love you and

I can't lose you

And you need to

Know this.

All of it.

For that to happen.

Cuz that's a Promise.

Living a LiE

Is it possible to change your memories?
I've been accused of that recently.
I hated myself
So fully.
So completely.
So all encompassing.
For what I did.
But it was done in fear.
Wasn't it?
That is the only reason I let him.
Because I was afraid.
Wasn't I?
Terrified of the machine before me.
The toned muscle.
This sick mind.
The angry demands.
My excuse was fear,
As far as I remember.
But was there more?
Did I really want it?
Did I intice the behavior?
Did I ask for it?
Thats not how I remember.
But bile rose in me when you mentioned
You remembered it differently.
The hate,
Guilt,
Shame
I felt.
Did it change my recolection?
Is that how I survived it?
By changing the past?
To fit my reasoning?

I don't think I can deal with knowing the truth, if the truth is not how I recall. If I'm wrong, and I allowed those events to occur willingly, I don't deserve this wonderful life I have, for then this life is a lie. Where do I really belong? Right in the middle of this LiE?

Vanity.

Beauty is pain.

More than that,
Beauty is plague.
A disease.
Vanity.
Sick perfectionism,
Rude prejudice,
Conceit.
Downfall of moral.
Desctruction of value.
Death of friendship.

Vain little bitch,

It tears you up inside.

Unrelenting,

Neverending,

No escape.

This self-concious mental illness leaves your heart exploding in ur chest. Terrified of what others think. Scared of how you apear. I fear there's no way to make this nightmare end.

And you tell me that it's over, Wake up lying in a patch of four leaf clover.

And you don't want to be here in the future

So you say

"The present's just a pleasant,

Interruption to the past."

And you don't want to look much closer

'Cause you're afraid to find out all the hope

That you had sent into the sky by now had

...crashed...

And it did.

Because of me.

[[Konstantine-Something Corporate]]

Isn't it funny?

Isn't it funny how you can go back and re-read what you wrote long ago and it doesn't sound like you?
Isn't it funny how there are so many things you don't remember?
Isn't it funny how those little memories you want to forget so badly decide to pop into your head at the worst possible times?
Isn't it funny that the memories you love, the ones you cling to and cherish, slip away no matter how hard you hold on?
Isn't it funny how your friends will ask you whats wrong and all you can say is "I don't know" even though you know quite well?
Isn't it funny how the words wont come when your crying out to tell someone?
Isn't it funny how your 'friends' will talk about you behind your back? In your own house? When they think you're asleep?
Isn't it funny how someday this is all going to end?
Will it be funny then?
Because I don't think it ever was.