"I couldn’t cry about the thought, so I laughed instead at the self-centered idea that somewhere out there, I am seated upon the pedestal of someone’s mind, the very forefront and center-most section as I have rested so many in the anterior portion of mine. Could it be possible that I am of some charming nature to someone out there? I cannot stand to think that I’d been so naturally and yet so accidentally beautiful and had been utterly unaware of my potential. How could I have been myself so carelessly inadvertent and uncontrived? I just laugh at this, these insecurities bathed in neon technicolor. The psychedelic colors must have caused some brain contortions for I could never linger so lovely in prolonged daydreams for being myself."

"I stand in a lonely, stilled moment waiting for my heart to burst and spill an aurora on our created darkness. I begged you not to leave me. Begged. Begged in my reaches for your smoky foundation. But you’re half way there like an overcast afternoon without the hope that the rest of the day will get better. This feels instead like midnight, promising more murk and shadows. You’re already gone. You’ve been gone. I was only lost in moments that have been echoing in my memory. Now there is this feeling, procrastinating leaving my beaten up heart. It comes and goes. Go again. You’re dragging me by each head of hair and that pain isn’t as bad as the one my heart feels."

"Whatever you let someone call you jokingly is fair game in a real argument."

"I don’t even have the courage to create my end. Waiting to implode. Go on and cut my numbness. I won’t feel it. I’ll just bleed and perchance I’ll just go that way, slowly, feeling my breath shallow to a dying wind. I’ll watch the waste of a life come and go like hallucinations while I cling to illusions of make believe lifetimes."

The truth is that I just want to be good enough for you. 

I wanted you loved me so I that I’d know how to love you and others in return. No, I need you to do this for me. I still need you to do this for me… You never told me and you certainly never showed me. When you did eventually say it, your actions contradicted you and I hurt. I still hurt. I can’t even tell anyone that I love them, but I try to show it. And I wonder sometimes if I even love anyone. I think I just care a great deal. I don’t understand love because you never defined it for me. It’s late, isn’t it? My heart is saying you are years too late. Even if you tried, I know in my heart that I would never believe you and I don’t want that to be true. Even so, it’s time to divorce myself from blaming you. I am defining the love of myself and I’m trying to extend that to others. But first I have to give myself the love you withheld from me. It’s not okay, but it is what it is. I forgive you…

(scatterbrained thoughts, 31)