Poems by Daisy

"It's worse than a bad day"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I wasn't alive yesterday.
I was rotting yestarday.

I woke up slaughtered with a pit in my stomach

There was hate in my heart.
A hate for myself, and all of it was so calculated.
So rational and well thought out.

It could convince scientists, evolutions a hoax.
A dread and angst for the hours that lay before me.
So premeditated that the only thoughts to compute through my thick skull were to destroy the life that lay before me.

The hours passed by.
It got worse
Then it got better,
and then it got worse again.

This sense of existential dread was so new.
So profound and worse than ever before.

It felt as if for a moment that god saw me specifically.

I slept a couple 2 hours or so, woke this morning.
6:00 AM with an even worser doom.
A distress that ate yesterday's for breakfest

I called my friend and bought a water.
I drove to her house.
I felt alive again, maybe even back to earth again.

I left her house around 8 to get gas and drive out to the lake.
I hiked to the top of the cliff.

Now I ate a grapefruit and did some writing.
Now maybe its not so bad.

Now this morning strung out on gratitude and overdosed on shame of the person i was yesterday.

I realised for the 278th day this year.
that awful days are just awful days, but every time its raw and beautiful.

Every time I forget any other state of reality I've ever had.

It's always been revolting and it always will be revolting.

its 10:12 now.
im snapped out of it now.

That state is nothing but a source of comfort to me now.

“Sometimes”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Everything is a big sometimes

Nothing feels set in stone

But sometimes it does

Sometimes I feel my world crumbling around me

And sometimes the sun passes through

Sometimes I can eat in front of people

And sometimes I can't

Sometimes-...

I don't know.

I don't know anything really.

I can't tell you my favorite song, or what I want to eat,

because it’s always changing.

And sometimes

I wish things would stay the same.

Wishing for a bit of predictability to rely on

Instead of explaining to counselors why I

Freeze up in math class but not in science,

Why I no longer talk to old friends

Why the world is so horrible.

Even with friends or family,

The people around me.

People's emotions are so unpredictable.

I’ll never know when they’ll have a mindset change

Everything just feels like it's different everyday while at the

same time nothing is fixed.

I feel like I’ll be running in circles, trying to find answers.

But

You know

Only sometimes

“Lonely Not Alone”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I soothe myself to sleep.
I trace the freckles on my own arms.
And I hold myself when I sob.
I drink from puddles when i’m gasping.
And I eat pills off the pharmacy counter when i’m hungry.
I set eight alarms every night.
And I brush my yellow teeth every morning.
I sit alone on my floor and I fold my laundry.
I’ve always taken such pride in my independence until recently I woke up.
I woke up to one of my 6:30 alarms ringing and I felt the
shame in my independence.
I felt ashamed of how i’ve locked everyone out.
I locked everyone out of my house, so I could build a mental hospital in here.
I’ve never had my hair brushed and i’ve never been kissed when i’m alseep.
I’ve never felt anything unconditional besides my love for
myself.

How ironic.

“Everyday”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Everyone loves to preach that life is short.

But no one so much loves to preach how dreadingly long it is.

And yeah sure, I look back at this time last year and it flew by.
I lived fast but hindsight isn't always 20/20.

What about how everyday that I lived felt like an entire lifetime.
What about how every day,it didnt feel like Iwas the same person tonight as I was this morning.

Time moves slowly for me.

The hours drag on.

A constant sense of boredom consumes me.

I watch the hours go by. As I felt my white blood cells turn red.

But dont take this the wrong way, for life does not bore me.

Im curious and i'm passionate.

I love and I hate.

Im merely referring to the neutral state between these human antics.

Im referring to the constant void that is my consciousness.

For i'm unfamiliar with the definition of contentment.

Satisfaction is a boredom industry dream for me.
So how could I ever expect to sustain the satisfaction.

When with the 24 hours of the day,

Im the 24 different people.

“Gain”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

From birth not only do we want to feel the best.

We want to be the best.

To jump the highest.

Run the fastest.

Get the best score.

Make the most money.

Its our instinct to gain.

Because once we gain enough we’ll be happy right?

And maybe you read this and you think "no not me im above that. Im way too spiritually enlightened to follow such a plain capitalistic way of thinking."

But even the people who are one with the soil of the earth are looking to gain.

And though they may not be soughting out the material things, they’re looking to gain inner peace.

Looking to gain some sort of relief from the world that they live in.
For the baseline of this instinctual greed.
Is the human brain looking to alleviate the constant state of dread.

It is born into and it will never be enough to fill the void that is our consciousness.

I know I am alive.

I know I’m going to die.

And I need to live my life with no regrets.

What a burden.

Happiness and contentment is not something that can be gained.

It is not a state of reality that is waiting for me in the future.

I fantasize about this future.

Though as anyone does.

Maybe I'll have a small comforting apartment and i’ll have a garden for my vegetables on the balacony.

My career, may be emotionally rewarding and high earning.
Though if I cannot find joy in where I am now.

A 14 year old middle school student.

Messily finding it's way through post elementary school friendships.

I never will.

Because happiness is a constant effort to alleviate our natural state of discontent and yearning.
And I mean a millisecond by millisecond.

Constant effort to feel at ease in my own mind and body.

A constant effort to accept where, when, who, and what I am.

Not to want to change the past and not to want to change the future.

And as Nietzsche once said

“Amor Fati”

"There is no "Old Me" "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

If your not granted the freedom to be who you are from adolescence

you'll become a shell of the person you we're supposed to be

and on occasion

i feel as if i am a shell of a person i once was

but what does that mean

what does it mean to be myself

they say that it means to listen to your gut

they say that it means to live like no one is watching

when I was 7

my mother told me

im trying to be someone im not

when i was 10

she said

that im trying too hard

what did that mean

im 10

i like laughing

going for slurpees with my friends

im 11

i just lit my first cigarette

i wasn't anyone

i was a staggered soul

Im 14 now

now my mother thinks im so unapologetically myself

she hands out praise for it

was she right

was I trying to be a soul

I wasnt at 10

did she see it was I trying too hard at 10

did she see the person I was becoming

change it and she likes me now

but I was myself then

and I am myself now

to be yourself

to become yourself is not to look yourself and say I am this and I should be that

to become yourself is an acceptance

and acceptance of my tarnished mind

and acceptance of every molecule that makes up my tarnished body

to accept that im not the person

today i will be on my death bed

and there is knowledge and parts of myself that can only be revealed with time

when

where

who

and what i am

on the scale of space

and time is so infinite that i'm not the same person tonight as i was this morning

and that's okay

who i am is unravelling by the millisecond

and the person i will one day be simply does not exist

"It wasn't bad, it wasn't good"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Because everything that is so undesirable makes me feel so at peace.
And I find a sense of ease and torment.

It sounds quite bleak.
But i'm drowning by a new found calm.

When I gain new found knowledge of the dark and belligerent.

September 19th of last year, I suffered such a bad trip.
That the term "bad trip" compared to that experience was to compare fire to water.

Bad and good are elementy terms.
For how could such a simple adjective, "bad" translate the collapse of reality and visions of evil.

I underwent that day,fire and water.
The most recognisable elements.

"Good and bad"
The most recognised powerful conversation of human ethics.

Each so polarly opposite of each other.
Black and white.
Each existing on their own until observed and labelled by men.

Black and white, my conscious cannot compute.

Black and white.
It wasn't fire, and it wasn't water.
It was a muddled grey colour.

It was boiling water.

"I wish i was an artist"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

my entire life

i've wished for the drawing knack for art

lays heavy in my heart

and i've long for the ability to create

but since nine

i have excelled in writing in expressing emotions through analogies and metaphors

but it was never good enough

and nothing's ever been good enough

the human instinct for greed

reveals itself in the grimiest of ways

so you see

i see art

i admire

i feel

and i process it

how i wish it stopped there

but i feel an envy in my veins

there's resentment behind my eyes

as i stutter in the at gallery

I wish i could do that

i want to convey my thoughts like they do

only at the age of 14 have i accepted that i'm not good at drawing or painting

and i do not like drawing or painting

and i still feel this intense need to express myself

and english is a pitiful attempt to create visual art

infuriates me

the sketches are not what i'm seeing in my head

the proportions are all wrong

and i dont understand colour theory

im not conveying the vision i need to

i'm not conveying the feelings that i need to

when i write

i have complete utter control

the words i see are the words as they are translated

but has this taken away the creative novelty of art?

because i dont feel like an artist and i still wish i was an artist

"?"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I wish i could think a new thought

My brain has been doing re-runs for years

and i'm starting to get tired of the episodes

I read books

I consume art

I study philosophy

and still I sit in a Middle school classroom yearning for new knowledge

I'm yearning for an intellect that can only come with time

a wisdom that's only gained by experience

why can't I know everything?

all though on my death bed

and why can't books teach me what I didn't know last year

But see this wisdom is the exact reason to live

"Yesterday's Light"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm watching the sun come up and I feel sick to my stomach.

as I've always found comfort in the dark.
comfort in the knowledge that I may lay here open eyed festering in my uneasiness
comfort in the knowledge that I may drift into unconscious and that it will be accepted.

but in the light I must endure the repercussions of yesterday's light.

forever longing for the dark to consume me again.

I will never stop being discombobulated, for only brief moments while I feel an absence of agony.

forever longing for the absence of my natural condition.

"ill Fitting Coat"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

every companion I have ever had was a coat either too short or too long

while every lonely day I ever endured fit me just right

my clothes don't fit but I bought them myself

my clothes don't fit but I love them so dearly

that rag on the sidewalk washed in grime and filth

that will be my attire today

I don't like the way it looks on me today

I'll be wearing my ill fitting coat today.

"i built this town"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Cause I don't wanna get better

get better and what?

throw away all my hard work

yeah it takes blood

sweat

tears

to get to the top

but it takes tears

sweat

and blood to get to the bottom

I turned my hometown to rubble and ash

I flicked my own cigarette and I watched it burn with my own eyes

to sit here rebuild and gentrify it

now seems like a game only a fool would play

"We're Not Special"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

For being the self loathing person that I am, I admire myself.

I mean I really do. I'll be a nurse by 21.

I bartend twice a week and I glow when I do.

I work hard. I care.

I study philosphy and try to express myself.

I'll give the shirt off my back.

I have stars in my eyes and I try to dance.

The people like me, mom they really do.

I have a certain quality, I know it and you know it too.

But this quality is what turns my admiration to distain.

This quality is a curation of birthright confidence, accompanied by self awareness.

A self assured conscience with a bug for self esteem.

So you see the self awareness is the fact that I know I'm not special, But I will always think that I'm not special because I know I am not special.

It's like the same thing with people who know that they know nothing, think that they are smarter than the people who think that they know something

But at the end if the day, we are all stuck in an egotistical loop.

"I cannot eat time"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I eat the berries, they say it's food or thought.
So why am I still starving?

I binge the mushrooms and books on ego maniacs.
So why am I still starving?

I admit defeat to a higher power.
I taught myself the string theory.

Why am I still starving.

I'm chugging sour milk.
I'm toasting rotten bread.

I'm going to poison myself now so I'm not starving.
my conscience died of food poisoning.
why is my corpse still starving.

I resurrected the same soul a year older.

I recall the eating of berries like I'm watching a movie of myself starving.
the berries could never heal my hunger.
there's no satisfactory food for my thought.
my thought craves the inedible for you cannot eat time.

I'm still starving

I've been picking up the berries again though .

"I'm Not Grilled Chicken And Potatoes"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

You made me feel as if I had to prove myself to you.

As if I had to convince you of how good I am.

Like when my mom makes a shitty dinner and she tries to oooooo and aaaaah us to love it.

But i'm not grilled chicken and potatoes.

I'm like fucking surf and turf on a golden platter.

It's not my fault you like kraft dinner.

It's not my fault you're gonna starve.

And It's not my fault for being too flavorful and it's not my fault you have no taste.

"Love Bores Me"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i emptied my soul out so that i could fill the void with yours

i thought about you when i brushed my teeth

and i thought about you when i got home from school

I suffered a slow imperceptible transition from lust to love to obsession

to fantasy to hate

to balance a functional life

life fed my love to you was to balance 17 beers on a tray

while my guts poured out on the floor

the way you said you loved me this morning had me sincere genuine heartache tone to it

the grass is green and the dream is flourishing

i feel flushed and gorgeous

i feel love sick

the way that you said you loved me tonight felt cold and agitated

a flat tone paired with a blank dead expression

i feel sick to my stomach now

as i watch the pieces of my once peaceful reality crumble

the sky is dark and grey now and i want out of my own skin

now you told me i was a lot and i knew i was a lot

i'll always be a lot

but i wanna be a lot

a state of neutrality was forced plain and unfulfilling a state of bliss was forced, unjust and boring

a state of violence was agonising yet lustful

but it was unbearable and unstable

there was no state of reality with you

in which i could be content with the sick obsession which was as close as i got with you

pouring every ounce of my soul out to be filled with yours

it was empty of me to be so full of you

"i think i love you"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Because i think i think i love you

And i think i have a love hate relationship with the word itself

really because i love a lot of things

like birds and coffee and bugs and halloween

i've always used the word to describe a certain fondness of certain things

so you understand how miniscule it feels to say that i love you

i've yet to meet another human being to evoke the same feeling you do

the feeling of having another warm body consuming the entirety of my thoughts

another warm body being my entire muse

it's a feeling i ted to and care for

it's a craving so past sexual, that it feels so innocent

it feels pure

there's not a word in the english language

the describes the feeling i feel towards you

but to give diction to my thought

i do love you very much

"Sunscreen Sales At An All Time High"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Because he craved me the same way he craved a beer on the beach.

Until the beer turned into a bitch and the beach to a leech of a broken soul

so take me, use me, reuse me just like you do every summer

because in the dark of decembers 4:00 PM

I always get a ring on my phone telling me how you miss the sunshine

But how can anyone love the sunshine

when a star's natural state is explosion

but yet again, this june

sunscreen sales are at an all time high!

"Grown Up"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Why didn't I grow up?

I grew and I changed

I'm growing and i'm changing but i'm still not grown up

When I was seven, I wanted to be eight because I thought that was grown up

now i'm 14 and I don't wanna be 15 but I still wanna grow up

I sit on my floor displeased in my own juvenile angst because growing up never meat getting older to me

Growing up meant being granted by patiently awaited final state of peace

My five senses will finally experience a blissful reality and that would be my new constant

The grand release for my continual discomfort

But i'm never going to be grown up

I've learnt to enjoy watching myself grow old

"This weekend"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It's been about a month and a half since I found out.

I'm in your city this weekend
A month and a half ago, I would've been in your bed this weekend.

Blocked on every communication.
I emailed you, to tell you that I'm in your city this weekend.

I had full intent of seeing you this weekend.
I'm ashamed.

My friends are going to know now that I wanted to see you this weekend.

A month and a half ago, they watched me be ashamed of our house of abuse and that it is finally falling to ruins.

I didn't want to rebuild it this weekend.
I wanted to put up cardboard cutouts.
I wanted to turn our destroyed home into cheap copper just for this weekend.

Two months ago I laboured hours towards my own failing house.

A month and a half ago, I watched my work collapse,
and this weekend, I grieve.

I sit in my hotel room alone and I grieve.
Not over you but over even sending that email.

"I like you"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Ugh you bug me and you make me scared but I like you and you make me warm.

Oh My God.

I force fed you my love through your clenched teeth like it was mashed potatoes and you, hate mashed potatoes.

I shoved my hate down your gagged throat like it was gin, but everybody hates gin

I was passionately vacillated, But I'd starve you if that's what it took for you to know how much you meant to me

You starved me the entire time, leaving crumb trails for me to follow back to you

And I do know that you loved me but you loved me because you saw that I could be loveable and I loved you because I know that you are not

"Self Expression And How It Hurts"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Because if dark philosophy is correct and a human being is born into a constant state of pain due to our consciousness, that means that this discontent.

This yearning begins around the age of two
This is a Truism, coined by society as a child's "terrible twos".

A mind that has just gained consciousness of oneself and awareness of ones own wants and needs.

The sudden gain and ability to choose right over wrong.

It's our introduction to our good and our evil.

These children now face the prohibiting nature of language.

Being incapable to communicate these needs and wants and new found sense of self to their mothers.

I feel an empathy for this phase of life.
For I too feel a loss of satisfaction due to my inability to truly communicate.

We deem the english language a blessing and that it is.
But I've diluted my experience of life in the cosmos into 26 letters and 10 numbers.
Like some sort of over advanced A.I trying to express the torment of heartbreak or internal coding.

Except instead of coding and equations and numbers, I have letters and words and symbols.

Words like euphoria and despair.
Words like attachment and resentment.
Bliss and agony.

But they all seem so small when used to describe this absurd feeling that I feel inside.

" Bones "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Bones.
Human Bones.
They tell lots of stories.
Some bones are of kind, honest people.
Some are true hearted, and witty.
But yours,
They're way different.
Your's are cold.
Your bones are evil.
Yours are the bones who haunt my dreams.
Every. Single. Night.
They're heartless.
And disgusting.
Slimy and hollow.

" Like Brushing My Teeth "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Two minutes.

It's just two minutes out of my day.

I can sing the happy birthday song in my head three times over to distract myself.

Back and forth and it's so repetitive.

But I was always told that sometimes in life, we have to do things we don't particularly like.

Back and Forth.

And I hate the taste in my mouth.

Especially when it starts frothing up like ugh.

back and forth.

am I done now?

I must be done now, it has to have been two minutes.

right?

He said it would only take two minutes.

Back and Forth.

He said it would be easy and quick like brushing my teeth.

this is not like brushing my teeth.

I did not swallow my own tongue.

He reached between my lips and took it from me.

I shut my mouth.

I did not want him to reach in again.

I did not want him to take my teeth as well.

Back and Forth.

I thought if I don't move and I just keep my mouth closed, he'll only invade my one set of lips.

Back and Forth.

Afterwards he gave my tongue back but it never really felt like it belong to me again.

I did not use it.

I did not tell anyone.

I was too scared of losing another part of me as if mentioning what had happened meant it would never happen again.

Back and forth.

He made it sound so normal, like everyone did it.

Like it would be weird if I didn't.

Back and Forth.

If I mention it then I have to acknowledge it happen happened.

It was only two minutes.

It was just like brushing my teeth.

Back and forth.

"Rat In A Cage"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The feelings I feel are so strong.

So intense and so absurd that it is merely laughable to imagine it being housed by a body.

In which my foot is the exact same length as my forearm and that my exact height is the same measurement as my wingspan.

For how could something so natural, so symmetrical and so beautiful house such a polarising line between despair and euphoria.

And maybe I shouldn't so much as question the how as I should question the why that this is what it is to be human.

And sometimes this feeling is anger and agony.

And it's such a strong anger and agony that it feels like my body cannot handle it anymore.

That the words anger, agony, rage, despair, and anxiousness, all feel so small when used to translate this aching feeling.

It's like I don't wanna look at anything anymore.

So i'm going to rip my eyes out.

And I don't wanna hear anything anymore.

Not even the white noise.

I must rip my ears off.

My mouth tastes weird and it burns to breathe through my nose.

I'm gonna rip my throat out.

And I hate the way that my skin clings to my bones.

I need to rip my soul out of this confining body.

But like a bullet with butterfly wings.

Despite all my rage, i'm still just a rat in a cage.

No matter the torment I am enduring, I cannot out run it.

I cannot Hide from it.

Sometimes I am in such a despair that I think to myself that it's time to take this to the next level.

That it's time to really express myself.

But what do I do?

Fall off the deep end with an addiction.

A want. A need.

While my friends and family watch? No.

There is no escaping this rage.

There is no escaping myself.

So i've learnt to live.

I've learnt to cope with this despair.

" Today "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Six Fifty-Seven am

I woke up in my friend's bed today

He went to work today so maybe i'll just wait here until he comes home today

I'm a little hungover today so maybe i'll eat a muffin today

And i'm gonna let the day pass me by today

every morning I wake up

I feel such pressure to create or progress

art has become such a chore due to this

So today I declare the art of indulging in my own emotional leisure

for I don't owe today anything

"Well I'll get up Eventually"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Have you ever thought about it?

Why you actually fell for them?

Was it their smile?

I know you've seen more beautiful, charming smiles.

Was it their intelligence?

I'm sure you've met much smarter people.

Was it the way they said your name?

How each letter rolled off their tongue like it was sugar?

Like you were the only person that ever mattered to them on earth.

We both know you were never as special to them, Not as they were to you.

So why did you fall the way you did?

And when do you plan to get up?

"I'm so lonely and It's all my fault"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Oh I wanna be loved so badly

It's so disgusting

It's so unnerving

It's the bane of my entire existence

And I don't need it to feel real

I don't need it to make me feel whole

It's just why don't I get to indulge in humanism

I feel so broken off from everyone

Like there's a wall between me and every single person I've ever met

And I watch from the sidelines as my peers fall in and out of love

And I never like sports

But I wanna play so badly now

I clung to a lifeless, hopeless, loveless, mis shapen relationship

My entire adolescence to avoid this drifting feeling

The feeling of being so pathetically alone to even found them being loved wholly is a divine comedy

It's like they deserve it and I don't

and that's so pathetically obvious to me

for they played the field while I stuck my nose up to the game as if it would escape me from the pain of my independence

" So, this is love? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I don't think I was ever meant to love you

I love poetry and fuzzy pajama pants, vibrant green grass and the smell of rain.

I like the way it feels to ride those swings at the fair, the ones that only have a thin bar protecting you from free falling.

I liked you, but it's really hard to describe that feeling

It's wasn't like falling, or flying.

It didn't make my head fuzzy, or make the world fade into the background like the movies show.

It was so desperate and so lonely.

It was like how a piano sounds when it's untuned, every key a bit eerie.

It's how overthinking and cold sweating feels.

It's so wild with color, a bleeding mess, so obscure that it's beautiful.

It's one of those painting hung in a museum, one with angels and and broken canvases.

Blood trickling down bodies, people over people, feelings over each other.

It was so chaotic and unrealistic.

Just like you with me.

" He liked flowers "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The worst bit,

The worst fucking bit, is how stupid I looked begging to be anything other than what he wanted.

I was my body and nothing more.

He said I was pretty like roses.

He lied.

Roses are flowers, so why didn't he like me?

My legs tangled in thorns.

My mouth silent for all sounds except whimpers.

Shadowed from all to see.

He said I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

He had only seen the outside.

Had he dare to know what lay dark underneath?

And that is all I was ever good for.

Not being pretty enough like flowers.

Or being shown to the world.

For others to see.

They wanted everything from me and then they succeed.

My body was no longer mine.

It belonged to him.

I was trapped. In a cage.

He turned me into something I wasn't.

"Forever?"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I want to throw up.
Have my insides crawl out of me.
Blood, guts, secrets.
Every single ugly and disgusting thing that's ever happened to me.
Gone.

I wanna run away forever.
Away from you.
From this nowhere planet.
Change who or what I am.
Do I even know who this person is?

I look into the mirror and everything clashes together.
My eyes, my shoulders, my face.
Even my own thoughts.
My thoughts were mine, all mine and no one could take it away from me. Not even this mirror.

I saw someone who was not me.
This hair, these thoughts, these arms, this body.
Wasn't mine.
I saw myself fading away. Ever so slowly.

I tried to grab it, but it kept slipping from my grasp.
My voice. It was gone, I couldn't say anything.
I couldn't breath. It was so fucking suffocating.
I hated it. Or I that's what I told myself.

If lying to myself meant that I could continue to drown in this comforting darkness.
Then I would be okay with it.

forever.

" Broken Little Butterfly "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I want my body to be as fragile as a butterfly's wings.

One touch and I crumble.

Brush me too hard or push me too fast

And I shatter.

My exterior so magical, the world will stop and stare,

A walking Skelton for all to see.

Maybe when they see how broken i am, they will care.

Maybe when my pain is inside out, they will finally understand.

Because my silent plead is not enough.

Neither are my screams.

They need to see my physical deterioration.

To believe that there's something is truly wrong.

I am so exhausted of holding it all together,

I'm in the final stage of metamorphisms

And I just want to show them my true colors.

Except I won't blossom into a butterfly.

My exterior will be soot grey and withered.

Showing signs of age before my youth is over.

I'll almost be a goner.

A result of my infatuation with deadly perfection

Just like a moth whose fatal is error.

Just like their obsession with the light.

" I Bask In It "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I hung my body out on the line.
So Why do I keep dripping in champagne?

I am so resilient.
I consistently refuse to be dull.
I'm in the desert and I'm soaking wet.
I consistently refuse to fall off of it.

I wrung out my own guts and they filled back with blood on their own.

I am so resilient and often it's all so gorgeous. It's so easy and it's so limitless.

I bask in it

I close my eyes and I swallow it whole.
It feels so good.

I'll fall out of it and blink to my regular drabness.
I bask in it.

To spit out my bleak sadness would be to waste my extraordinary gorgeousness.

" Can I even describe it? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The sky is the brightest blue
I feel the ocean breeze on my skin
I am finally free
I am finally happy.

Suddenly the cloud shadows over me
I know it is bad
Yet I stay
Paralyzed by it.

It gets darker and darker
closer and closer
Where did the clouds come from?
What caused it?

It was my bad
I knew to check the weather
So why did I stay?
Paralyzed by it.

Suddenly the lighting hits
I feel as if everything has stopped
My breathing gets heavier
Paralyzed by it.

Even after the lightning
The damage is still there
I am no longer free
I am no longer happy.

" Crumble "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I am but a hollow shell of my past and memories.

My breath comes out between bare bones,

coughing and struggling and screaming with every inhale.

my former self is now six feet under,

lined with velvet trim and hoping that it'll be able to dig itself out someday.

what will happen when even the bones begin to crumble and break?

what will happen when i finally meet my true fate?

that lies uncertain

i just hope i've dug myself out by then

" The Breeze "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It chills me.
to the core and
back.
carefully caressing
my spine,
sticking me up
straight,
leaving me cold,
leaving me astray.
leaving me.

dare i say come
back,
straighten me onc
again,
for i am too warm,
too bent.

chill me.
and leave me once again.

" Ow. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

But did you know,
you we're the first boy that
made me feel physical love.
Not the love that you feel in your stomach,
But the love that poisons your bones.
Causing your jaw to ache,
Causing your toes to curl.

It felt like you put venom in
my veins.
My skin would burn,
My heart would swell,
My lungs would fill,
Just by the sound of your voice.
Causing every ounce of my body to fall completely vulnerable.

But then you left.
And I could feel my bones crack.
The white ivory that lays under my skin soon became delicate.
A single breath could turn mme to dust.
As I watched you leave me here.
Taking all your broken promises with you,
But leaving me behind.

I didn't think you scent would linger thing long.
I thought the breeze of tomorrow would simply blow you away.
But I can still taste you on my lips.
And I can still hear you saying my name.

But I feel nothing.
Nothing but your venom in my veins.
And your cracks in my bones.

" My Long Awaited Peace "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I feel free today and nothing's unusually great

I feel slow and dull but i feel whole Today

Having experienced such passionate harsh pain induced by none other than my own emotional masochism

this feeling feels tacky

it feels undeserving and it feels wasteful

I've never been able to find art in my own satisfaction

I'll let this emotional leisure pass me by for i am my happy

I exhaust but I look my best

and in my misery I malfunction but I look my best

a state of neutrality is so unbearable

it's so foreign but i've been looking for it for so long

" Chills "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I thought sex was supposed to be romantic.

Scented candles that flickered and left calming shadows on my bedroom wall.

Soft music that would rhythmically take control of our bodies.

Your lips warming every inch of my skin.

And all I would feel is safe.

But I was wrong.

The only shadows I saw were yours.
Everytime I tried to look away from your dominating figure.

I was reminded of what you were doing to me.

And the only thing the music did was drown out my voice a I uttered the word "no" .

And I still shiver every time I think about you touching my skin.

The bruises around my wrists and the blood stained on my sheets were reminders of that night.

But bruises soon fade and blood will wash away.

But what I will never escape is the fact that I was so wrong.

Sex isn't romantic - it's the furthest thing from it.

"Hating comes easier than loving"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

There's a lot I hate about myself.

I hate the way I sound, the way I laugh, the way I cry.

I hate how I look, especially in anything that's not oversized enough to cover every aspect of my body I hate most.

I hate the way I treat others, how I can't show my love and appreciation.

I hate how im a constant failure and disappointment.

I hate that i'm afraid of trying or expressing myself.

but mostly?
I hate the way i hate myself.

" Void of womanhood "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Cause I need to make something.

Create something that's so permanent and so worthwhile.

I sewed a dress.
I drew a drawing.
I wrote a book.
I made a fucking life.
I need more.

So yeah maybe i'm just a confined artist or maybe i'm a human being who needs to reproduce?

But art cannot fill the void of nature.
Will a child fill the void of womanhood?

I am so intoxicated on the over analyzation of human condition.

But maybe if I don't drink or smoke for nine months.

" oh? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I used to be such a hostile

Such a threatening aura coming from a home of anger

I turn rage into a comedy

I make fun of anything that is a threat to my greedy self loathing

to be taken seriously was a laughable concept and i'm 14 now

I've never been taken myself or been taken seriously

But at least my admiration for all of this is no longer a parody

"Womanhood is effortless"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Because yesterday I spoke with a woman who was 96 years old and she explains to me how the concepts that once came so easy to her are becoming increasingly difficult.

she explained how she used to memorize quantum physics equations with ease and with little to no effort.

She graduated high school with the highest grades in her class and she had a passion for medicine.

She knew that she'd be a divine and lovely doctor.

She was denied from medical school being that she was a woman and that her father was not a doctor.

it was 1940, the school board told her it's a lot more work that you think and that she'll wanna settle down to have children and a family before she earns her degree.

She watched her brothers with little to no intelligence get accepted wherever they liked.

While she was pushed into nursing and eventually she excelled.

Becoming a professor of nursing just to push girls harder.

To push them further than nursing.

To push them further than what it is to be a girl and though she may no longer memorize formulas with such effortless grace.

Being a women never stops and it's an effortless disgrace.

It haunts you.
It follows you.

Morphing every piece of your life into an hourglass frame.

Womanhood is so consumable.

That at 14 and 96, with just a lick of eye contact and a 20 minute discussion.

I felt her pain so deep beneath my skin.
I called for a doctor.

So you understand the laugh we shared when a man walked through the door.

" Seen "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Most of the time i'm taking things for granted.

Time inevitably keeps going and it never seems to stop.

Hell, drifting away is so much easier then facing the reality, Hardcore reality.

Though what i've now realized is the more you continue to ignore the opportunities that sit right in front of you, the more these opportunities will stop reaching out to you.

Life is such a beautiful thing.

I guess it's just how you choose to view it.

" My Garden "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

In my garden of flowers
I shall give you all of the daises and all of my roses.

I just please ask you to leave my tulip.
for a better time or a better person.
you, however did not want to wait.

although you could cherish every other flower in my garden.
the lilacs and orchids.
and the roses and daffodils.
you only wanted the tulips.

you trampled and squished all of my flowers on your way to it.
in its own corner waiting to be given to someone.
not stolen.

When you went to rip the rose out of the ground it tried to hold on.
It's roots digging further into the dirt grasping onto anything it could.
until it couldn't it.

you took my tulip and when you were done you threw it back in my garden.
not caring for it after it was used.

it will never be the same after you.
there will always be some petals out of place.
and some leaves out of place.

but maybe one day,
someone will come around and replant it.
and they will water it.
until it is ready to be given to them.

" admiration "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I truly forgot how addictive it is.

that sharp sting as the silver carves into my skin, and red drips out.

that promise I make to myself during the night that is the last time.

but in class, whilst i'm meant to be learning, my leg bounces, my pen cicks, my cheeks go red, my mind preoccupies.

when all I can think about is that sharp sting.

that relief.

It's an endless cycle.

" Commitment "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Nowadays almost everyone has something they're committed to.

Weather it be their phones, or their jobs, or their partners.

Everyone is committed to something.

For me, it's silver.

Weather that be the silver jewelry I saw on the girl I passed by, or the silver on the razors I use to shave, I love it.

Over time the commitment to silver slowly grows.

it goes from small pieces of my razor, to the small blade in the pencil sharpener, to the silver on the kitchen knives.

After a while, my commitment slowly changed from the silver of the blade to the red lines it left.

To the sting of my jeans or short rubbing against my thighs and even the pain of the shower water trickling down my skin.

I committed to the art I drew.

Each line representing a thought I had.

About something or someone or somewhere.

Why can't you get out of bed?

Seriously go take a shower, you stink.

How long has it been since you last brushed your hair?

Ew, why would you say that?

There's so many bottles on your floor.

They're disappointed in you.

You shouldn't be here.

I committed to that feeling of emptiness and disappointment.

I committed to the red paint that covered my skin and stained my towels.

I committed to the hopelessness and despair, and I committed to the fact that I couldn't save myself from it.

I committed to a lot of things.

But now that I look back, seeing how deeply I clung to those feelings, I realized that maybe in the end, I've committed to nothing but suicide.

" Recovery "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm healing. I told my friends.
After relapsing the next hour.
I'm clean. I told my therapist.
After running out of bandages.
I'm fine. I tell my family.
After I sit there silently thinking.
The hardest part of this.
Is convincing myself that I am recovering.
After relapsing every week.

" okay "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I've wanted to be okay for so long

Misery has been the weird normal, overshadowing my life for years

I wondered why I even bothered, when nothing seemed to ever get me anywhere

To be honest I think it's kind of become a weird normal for this entire generation

While not every aspect of my life is a roadblock meant to make life awful

We all have our own problems, unique issues that we simply just have to deal with.

And a lot of them are enough to have the same thought.

Why do I even bother?

Everything is going to keep moving on with or without me

my thoughts, my problems

all an insignificant speck to the people around me, who are all too busy with their own issues and problems to care if I get left behind

Left still stuck in my own miserable mind

my own miserable thoughts in a miserable situation and i can't stop those thoughts or anxieties from flaring up.

I can't stop all my fears or every argument that happens around me

I can't stop the void the war and the illnesses or that the deaths the world like to throw around

but

that's okay.

all I have to be is okay.

" Hands "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

When do words feel silly or cliché?

A few years ago

My english teacher showed us this speech by Jason Reynolds

He was talking to a group of graduates and he said that people are like birds, ready to fly, but that some people's wings are clipped.

While it's not the worst metaphor, something about it just wasn't sticking with me

It felt too fake

Like the kind of metaphor that your english teacher would force you to dissect in class

Which is exactly what we were doing.

This leads into the worry that what I say sounds exactly like that

I don't get bullied as much anymore but there was this one that really stood out to me.

They were making fun of the way I speak

While it hurt to hear, I kind of wonder if they just felt that exact fakeness in my words as I did in that speech

So, how do I avoid that?

I want to be able to connect with people the only way I know how to,

But if I sound like i'm trying to be a smartass or immature then what's the point?

If I sound like that, will people even care what I have to say?

How many times do I have to open my mouth before I should give up?

Obviously, I know that's all irrational

I get plenty of sweet compliments from people telling me they love the way I write, because It sounds like a book, But I guess i'm just confinding my words into a piece of paper

With those silly cliche words I like to use

"Be A Kid"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Leave time to let yourself be a kid

was something my art teacher told me

When I sit at lunch, If I don't have friends around, I read.

I'm im not reading, i'm writing.

If i'm not writing then i'm drawing.

And if I can't write on paper

I'm writing in my head.

It's not like I don't have an okay balance between friends and books

But i'm aware my peers are significantly more friend oriented than I am.

In school, as long as you can keep your grades up with ease, your biggest problems are about how far away the weekend is and what electives you're choosing for next year.

Not can I finish this essay by friday

Should I be this obsessed with my own hobby?

Every time I take a break

I somehow find myself back at my desk

I've cut friends out of my life in favor of working

And as I work, sometimes I think back to what my art teacher told me

Is this okay? Or should I let myself be a kid

"Socks"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

There was a mouse in my room

Was, I don't know where it is now

I don't even know if it's still sticking around in my room or not

It could be anywhere

For the past 10 days

I've been walking around in my Christmas socks

In fear of the little thing scurrying across my floor

I don't know why I wear socks, I haven't actually seen it in days

and the last I saw of it was..

Well, was when I started wearing the socks

It's something that lingers in the back of my mind

Everytime time I take a step on my floor

10 days ago I actually knew where it was, underneath my shelf

It would poke it's little head out at me occasionally, then run to the other side of my room

Then sometimes later it would run back

I honestly wasn't sure what to do

I had thought I left my mouse catching days behind me when we moved out of our old rackety apartment

I let it run around a bit, then finally decided to do something about it

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a cake cover to catch it

Then when I came back, I never saw it again

So, for the past 10 days

I've been wearing these socks, even though I know there likely isn't a mouse in my room anymore

"Belly"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Sometimes I think there's another person in my stomach.
And I have to consider what the hell they must be thinking.

"It's awfully lonesome down here."

If I were them, i'd probably think I had died and went to hell, that is if hell is full of guilt and shame.

That is if hell is so empty it echoes the voices that praised me for being so small and continued to praise me as I got smaller.

I was always sick, but never "sick" enough.
hell isn't crowded or hot.
it is cold and vacant and painful and dizzy and confusing.
And the screams that they all describe aren't words. They're growls.

And if hell really is the pit in my belly, then i'd believe it because the screaming never fucking stops there.
The screaming is primitive and desperate and it pleads with regret.

But I know exactly what it wants.
But I don't care.
I don't care.

shut up!!

I used to love breakfast. I used to love the smell of it, when it filled the house and came floating into my room in the morning.

I don't know exactly when the love died but i'm assuming it was sometime between, my uncle calling 10 year old me, a fat pig for eating three cinnamon buns and whenever the hell three cinnamon buns started looking like 852. 852. 852.

too much!

I don't know what it is about, nobody questioning, or nobody worrying, or noticing.

But i've been a corpse again for months, and I will continue to decay and rot.

When they finally notice the rot and decay, I don't think it will be reversible.
I don't think they understand that my illness isn't just ice water slipping romanticly into the abyss of an empty stomach.

My hair is falling out but it's just the bleach damage.
My teeth are weak and brittle and it is slowly chipping away but it's just the sugary drinks.
I walked up a flight of stairs the other night and felt myself fade into the darkness for the first time in years.
But i'm just out of shape.

Bruises litter my pretty skin.
But i'm just clumsy.
Dark shadows contour my eyelids but i'm just tired.

Everyday I think of numbers.

I hate math.

This is not really writing it's more of things that I love

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I feel good today and I feel lovely.

I love the combination of forest green with bright red.

I love Sam and I love Finn

I love sweet coffee and I love my pink hello kitty pants.

I love writing and I love late weekend trips in the mountains.

I love the stars and I love going to sleep late.

I love seeing passionate children and I love buying books.

I love the clutter and I love True Crime.

I love sleeping and I love when my hair is short.

I love thinking and being able to express myself.

I love singing and dancing and I love making people laugh, especially when it's loud and all of their teeth show.

I love the human anatomy and the history of art and science.

I love the rawness of most people and seeing people vulnerable.

I love horror movies and I love Chucky.

I love early 2000's midwestern emo music and I love physcology and how the mind works, how emotions and memories work.

I love goodwill and I love wearing oversized t-shirts and my small boobs.

I love the tension of young love flirtation and I love the way that my shoes are black and dirty and how they suit me.

I love rice and soup and I love eating fruit in the sun.

I love standing up people's rights and I love feminism.

I love having three orange soda's at the beach and laughing in my my bed.

And I love that i'm out of an old relationship and that i'm becoming so close to my friends.

I love libraries and I love seeing people's homes. I love when they have certain smells and you know they've been loved for a long long time.

I love full notebook pages and when everyone in the car knows the words to the song.

I love falling asleep on call with my friends and love running in the woods.

I love going for walks to take photos at the park.

I love being slow and I love stretching and I love getting new jewelry.

I love monster energy drinks and I love seeing what everyone gets at the gas station.

I love eating packed lunch on the hill and I love being offered a cigarette and I love bugs.

I love that i'm actually changing.

" Childhood "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Ever since I was nothing more than a child.
I've feared being alone.
Feared the dark.
Feared older men.
Talking and moving on.
I've raised myself emotionally as well as physically.
And for that, I never tend to speak of my being and who I really am.
I bleed a different person every time I am around others.
Because the true version of myself is far too gone.
The way in which I was raised made me entirely independent.
But not in the way you should be praised for.
I was lonely.
And maturity is not something you should shed when you're a kid.
You should shed curiosity and embrace your youth.
I learned what it meant to be quiet far before I learned how to speak.
They say your circumstances form when you become who or what you are.
They're in you're passions and in the way you breath.
And perhaps that is why I despise myself entirely.

" Strange "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I find it strange.
How powerful trauma can be.
Breaking one memory into millions.
To protect the childlike heart within.

Is that why I can't grasp a single memory.
Of a past lover?
Laughter with my friend?
Or comfort from my mother's kiss on my forehead?
Even my given name seems to avoid me so.

I never thought I had trauma.
But the deeper i go to hear myself speak.
The harder it gets to breath.

To see.

To feel.

It's strange.

Oh, how strange it is.

" Dear mother, please let me go. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Her Mother
Never realized
She was the only reason
Her "Daughter"
Was still alive.

She never noticed
How one smile of hers
could light up her heart.
She never realized
how her words could shatter
her wounded heart.

Her mother was
the poison
and the cure.

She was the eternal rose
That made
her heart bleed.

" Dummy "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

One of the cruelest thing you ever did
was letting me find "Safety" in you.
and making me believe that it would last.

One of the cruelest things you ever did
was let me rely on you for "comfort."
and making me believe you'd always be there.

One of the cruelest things you ever did
was letting me confide in you, despite fear.
and making me believe you could be trusted.

How cruel of you.
to coax me into vulnerability
just to turn around.
and..
leave.

"Look at your reflection in my pooling blood, and tell me how it feels."

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Go on, do it.
I see the way you stare
at me with disgust. I am
the wood fueling the fire
in your eyes.

You know you want to
hurt me. beat me until
my ribs are caving and
my nose is bleeding. I
deserve it.

please, will you do this
for me? I need to know
that you hate me. If
you're going to be
angry, have it be for me.
that do no one wanted.

when you leave me to
bleed out on the concrete, I want you to
remember it. remember
that feelings in your gut
and cherish it forever.

it's the least I could do
for
you.

" Solution : Be Unknown "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

By being nice
you are liked.
By being cold
You are respected.
By being mean
You are feared.

You can get power
with each one of them.
The first one will kill your time,
because you are held by the chains of love.

The second one will kill your feelings,
Because ice breaks when it falls.

The third one will kill your heart,
because a heart dies when not used.

Which one do you choose?

" For The People Like Me"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I lack "empathy"
I lack emotional availability
and mental stability.
I don't feel things deeply.
I don't fall in love easily
and I am not easily loved.
I don't feel sympathetic
for people going through a lot.
Or when they are struggling.
I don't cry at funerals or weddings.
I'm not a good listener
and i'm definitely not a talker.
I don't miss people when they leave
and I don't mourn them.
I'm a shell of what society told me
I should be.

" Did That Child Anticipate being killed by their own mind? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Through the blade in my hand, I can see my own reflection. But the eyes that stare back are not mine.

These eyes ask a desperate question.
"why?"

Why do I hurt myself like this? After all my body does to protect me, I have betrayed it. Over and over again.

I understand- now I recognize these eyes. They are the eyes of a child.

A cared, hurting child. Remind me, why am I hurting them?

It's too late to wonder. My mind and body are too far one, it seems.

what have I done?

" I'm so tired Man. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The worst type of sadness is the kind where it is unexplainable it is almost deafening. It consumes all of you yet there is no understanding of which way your pain is rooted from. You just lie there unable to fix yourself while you are slowly drowning in nothing but an empty pool. It feels as though weights are tied to your feet and as you are watching yourself from another body you can almost see your insides scream as they are trying to tear open your nothingness of a heart and stomach. And though they only call sadness temporary. The aching within my chest feels like forever.

" Little "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

And if i were to hangout with my younger self. I would tell her to to fear he dark as much, not to fear those around her. I'd hold her delicate hand because i know no one else ever wanted to, and i'd chase her up the hill and push her on the swing, because I know she wanted to ease her pain a little bit by having fun. I'd ride my bike and she'd sit right in front of me i the basket and talk about whatever she wanted to. and I'd let her escape, I'd soothe her. What a shame no one ever did that for her.

" So attached to you "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

My mother was an addict, so of course my mother always warned me about drugs. she said never to take them and to always say no. She warned me, and I listened. But she never warned me about you. So here I am. More addicted to you than I could ever be to a drug. And no, you don't hurt me, or break me down like a drug would. But i'm all too afraid I will do this to myself because of the dependency I have created upon you.

" Dont Leave Yet"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It's maddening, isn't it? Being constantly torn between life and death. Debating to yourself the pros and cons of keeping your gentle breath. How can you feel so lonesome in a world full of people. you're tired. I can see it. In your eyes and in the way you body aches and sways to the sound of they're voice. I can see it in the way you stare off in the distance and in the way you clench your jaw to keep yourself from weeping entirely. Whatever you are holding on for, do not leave this world tainted with your sadness and with your happiness. Promise me that even among the darkness this world sheds, you will not leave until happiness clings onto your body and never lets you go.

" manic "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I envy the calm before the storm, the hurricanes weary eyes, the moons gentle curves. I am the ghost people tell tales and stories about, a small town legend.

my curves will never be soft like the moon, just fat and unladylike. my scars will never be a sign of bravery, just a revealing sign of someone not worth your time.

boys like us don't get to lie in the hurricane eye, or the privilege of a calm before the storm before the rest, spat out as cheap gravestones and cigarette ash.

The only tears here are weeping willows.

" Indulge In joy "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I particularly enjoy myself in may because it's always so beautiful, it's like it's the calm before the storm to enjoy the summer.

This summer has to be different, it took me 14 years but I guess it's better late than never.

I think I have finally accepted to enjoy myself, finally accepted that the cup doesn't always have to be filled to the brim to be drank, that I can devour an experience whole without it being a well prepared dish.

I denied my soul peace and leisure my entire life by the common undertone that with those feelings would come "happiness"

That to truly bask and enjoy myself for what's in front of me required the undertone.

Undertone that consisted of the capitalist standard and true love for myself.

That the peace would not be true until my soul was whole, that the contentment of today was bogus and that the exact satisfaction waited for me in the future.

I know I wrote that narrative myself so I can't expect to repel on it overnight but right now i'm laying in the sun and i'm going to buy makeup with my mom.

" Ones Needs "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The need to feel anger both for and towards your mother. To yell at her until you lose your voice, or until you run out of things to say, whichever comes first.

To look her in the eyes, both to ask "why?" and to say "i'm sorry."

the need to hold your mother. To cry into each other's shoulders, knowing that you both love the other, even if you can't stop hurting one another.

To whisper in her ear, " you were never meant to be a mother." to have her whisper back, "and you were never meant to be a "~~daughter~~."

"Crushing"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I didn't think I liked you.
Until I started looking for you in every room,
Getting Nervous as I saw you,
A blush of pink caressing my cheeks,

I could stare at you,
and find hundreds of things,
that I love about you,

Maybe the way you look at me when we're talking,
or how you listen to me giggle and squeal over the stupidest things,
just to make me smile,

you probably think I don't like you but I do,
You probably think I'm lying to you when I compliment you,
But I turn into a nervous wreck in front of you

You really are nothing like what people say you are.
Your amazing, and wonderful at everything you do.
And that I say is something you must cherish.

"Art"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Butter your bread, and snuff your cigarette.

Be sure to stab the discarded knife down,

so it doesn't get swept away by the wind that is not here.

It's too warm for wind to blow.

We are surrounded by humid summer air.

But i'll pretend I do not notice.

The improbability.

Snuff your cigarette for the same reason so the embers can't drift so we won't all be lit on fire.

But I think we are all already burning.

But that in my eyes is perfectly alright.

And if the nearest surface for stabbing and for snuffing just happens to be me, with my boney rib cage.

(The bones there
sometimes protrude,
as though
I am a starving dog)

and my sharp back

(my odd, ever-leading
shoulder blades
will hurt more
than the knife)

that is perfectly alright with me, too.

I am your canvas. Paint me, with your suffering.

" Pathetic "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Grab me, shove me, kick me, throw me to the ground. Wipe your shoes off on my shirt and back when you get to see me. Hit me with your fists when your angry. Let me carry your burdens until my shoulders give out.

Direct my eyes towards the sun and ask me what I see. Find a space for me inside your heart and I will contort myself into its shape. Hold me like you're losing it because you are. Eat three meals a day and share with me none.

A boy like me will be grateful for all that I can get.

"What Does It mean?"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Teach me how to be a person again. Chew me up and spit me out and slap me back together as viciously as you can. I don't think I can keep myself together anymore, maybe use some glue when you reshape my torn flesh and fragile bones into some foul me who is not me. To my artist, whoever you are, fuck you. I don't think the people you've placed in my path were the right ones to shape me. I think they've turned me into the opposite of what you intended me to be. Or perhaps, artist, you're as cruel as they all say you are. Perhaps you wanted to watch my ruination. And perhaps being ruined is the only way I can be a person again.

" Fixing "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I hate the world.
It's a terrible place, filled with terrible people.
But, when I met you, I realized that since the world had you in it, maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

You make up for all the hateful, disgusting, and vile people.
You make up for every horrible thing the world has shown me.

My Rudolph.
You certainly are one of a kind. <3

" Broken Blue "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

You we're my blue crayon
The one I never had enough of.
All the other crayons
would roll onto my paper
wishing to be used.
But green cannot color the sky
and red cannot color the sea.
I may never draw again
a piece showing the beauty of your hue.
but I will spend the rest of my day
trying to color an ocean
as beautiful as you.

" My Muse "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It's a privilege to like you. To know you. I didn't quite think there was anyone else left that was worth meeting. But you showed up in my life so amazingly. So unexpectedly. you'd think i'd be so enveloped in it. Knowing how many relationships i've been in. To be a poet and a hopeless romantic all at once and to not believe in two souls sharing an out most magnetic pull. And then there was you. You remind me of two people i've met before. combined together as one. You also remind me that the world still has beauty in it. How peculiar is that? Despite every last bit of heartache that has been following me, I still seem to believe that a single human being is worth living for. And i've been detesting the universe for quite some time now. I've been consumed with madness and grief yet I don't detest it when it comes to that of knowing you. And I wish to be with you for as long as I am able to breathe. Because, you are so incoherently handsome and so fucking attractive. It's almost painfully hard to describe. And though it's terribly frightening to be so indulged in another, it would be an honor to be loved and hated by you all at once.

" Letters "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I hate that i'm a teenage boy,
and you're a teenage boy as well,
and we can't be more than that.

I don't wanna talk at some party,
Or makeout in a bathroom,
Or hookup in a car,

I just want to write you letter.

I want to pour my soul out in ink,
explain my love with simple words,
seal each letter with a kiss.

It's sounds so out of date, unnecessary, naive.
But still,
I just want to write you letters.

" Eating "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Inhale
Exhale
Cough
I am so god damn exhausted.
funny how that word tastes in your mouth.
I wanna feel like light in my lovers hands.
I will starve until my bones sit comfortably in your skin.
I want to be dainty.
I want to feel small again.
To be cared for
To have people treat me as fragile
1200
Each
And
Every
Single
Day
Only 1200
this is a number that haunts me
a toddler they say
that's all a toddler needs
I can be better
be PROUD of me
Sweet Ice Coffee and Cotton Candy are
my only vices baby
Throw me on the bed
against the wall
I am small
fragile
smash me into pieces
I want you to hate me
your mockinging bird
inhale
exhale
cough

" Waves "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

You remind me of music,
so many meanings and emotions
and different aspects.
You're like music,
because you bring me joy.
I could listen to you talk for hours
like I could listen to music
for hours,
I feel emotions when I'm with you.
like when their are certain beats to a soft song.
You are my favorite kind of song
That I could listen to forever and never get bored.

" huh? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Your eyes remind me of the honey, that I put in my tea each night.
They remind me of the tree branches that sprout new life.
Like how you have given me reason.
They remind me of those big piles of leaves that I remember jumping into as a kid.
They remind me of the brown fur I see on animals everyday.
But most of all,
They remind me of you.
Your gentleness.
Your tenderness.
Your sincerity.
Your brown eyes have give life to everything else.
As well as my heart.

" Mirror "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I always liked how your eyes looked at me.
Warm, piercing, yet gentle.
They had seen so much pain - witnessed pain, walls falling, people breaking.
Yet after everything they chose to look at me.
But I guess I cant handle being in the spotlight.
so now I continue to drag my feet when I walk.
Not because I have a wounded leg but because the crushing reality feels far too heavy to lift my feet off the ground.
and it's spinning all around.
So I look in the mirror, shatter the glass, and repeat.
Day in and day out.
Get a new mirror - this one's different than the others
He likes you, treats you well, and tells you that you're cute.
Despite the bags under my eyes, The scars on my skin, the numbness of my touch, my shit brown eyes, and my gross curly hair.
But despite all of this, I still chose weather to smash it. Will I break this mirror or will the mirror break me?
and will I leave it shattered on the ground to pick itself back together.
Habits they say.
So tell me how, was I supposed to look at myself in a mirror again?

" Time "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Time scares me. maybe I think about it too much, but it fucking terrifies me. yesterday was a year ago, and tomorrow is already in the past. people are saying goodbye before i even have the chance to say hello. it only keeps speeding up. everyone reassures me of how young i am but i can't help but feel that my life is already over. lives end everyday. it feels like every single moment is gone, too. wasted. all of it. everything. i wish i could just make it stop. please stop. please.

" Healing "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I wish you knew
the thoughts I have about you.
I can't always articulate
the way I feel.
I wish I could explain
the feeling I get when
I wake up from dreaming of your face.
or he way my heart jumps
when you say my name.
I wish you knew
how I could describe you.
To strangers
or the songs
that make me think of you.
I wish i could explain
how you have healed me
in ways I didn't know were possible.

I wish I knew how to thank you for that.

" Happiness "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I wonder if we ever think of each other
at the same time,
if we ever gaze at the stars
thinking of one another.
i at least hope you do.
thinking of you brings me peace,
it reminds me of a time
when i was full of pure happiness.
i wish we could go back
and do it all over again.
from start to finish.

" Don't "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

My spine is glued to my sheets,
I open my eyes and move my feet,
I fall back asleep and that pattern repeats.

My food is overflowing
As I'm steaming my tea
And ripping apart my fruit
With my hands,
Not My teeth.

Expiration dates tell me that
I still have a week
But i'm tossing the
Rotten.
That I won't eat.

I count seconds,
Then minutes,
Then calories.
Until I can dream,
If I leave too early,
My eyes and skin might just bleed.

I open the door,
I think I can leave,
But I have to run in
To make sure that
the Stove wasn't one.

" Hand In Hand "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

...
looking into your eyes
make me realize
you're the kind of feeling that
I crave at all times.

The kind of feeling
where we can just exist
and be happy
The kind where I show up at your house
To cheer you up kind of feeling

the kind of feeling
where we're dancing
in the kitchen at 4 am
with no care in the world
the "just hold my hand"
kind of feeling

the kind of feeling
that finally makes you
understand
why you want to feel in the first place
why you're so engulfed with the idea of emotions
the kind of feeling where every moment is magical

that's what i want feelings to be like
and I really hope that my feeling
won't be a fantasy.

" Natural Happiness "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It's weird, having Natural happiness. Happiness is painted differently across my face than it is for my brothers and my cousins. More of a gentle shade of orange rather than a beaming stroke of yellow. More often than not, my happiness comes from peace and from calmness, so when i'm caught daydreaming about you with a contented face, i'm packed with confusion such as "are you okay?" and worry such as "you look upset." So if you catch me, straight mouthed, and almond eyed, staring out the window at passing cars, i promise i am not wallowing in self pity. I am merely enjoying the steadiness of my normally hectic heart rate.

" Favorite "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I spoke to the moon
and told her about your face, your touch, your voice, your smile, your eyes and hair.
As well as us.

Lighting up under her gentle beams.
That moment I realized that I liked you.
In front of her, and her sky full of stars.

She smiled at my story,
for the moon loved love.
and our relationship,
was her favorite,

" space "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I finally realized
why the moon
still chases the earth.
it stays at a distance,
never daring to move closer
but never quite moving on.

I suppose that you we're the earth.
and I was your moon.
but if you are this planet,
drifting out in space,
then you look at them
like they are the sun.

" Pretty Boy <3 "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Dear my pretty boy,
You are everything I need.

You are chaotic, loud, and sweet.

You're understanding, fashionable and good with words.

While I am a complete mess.

I'm quiet, clumsy, and childish,

I am sarcastic and rough and too much for most to handle.

so this if for, my handsome boy.

It's simply amazing and wonderful that someone like you could say they like someone like me.

" You Mean So Much To Me. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

there is absolutely no doubt in my mind when I say you're my favorite person.

there is nobody's smile that warms and melts my heart quite like yours.

Nobody's eyes that are quite as genuine, nobody's laugh i'd prefer to listen to.

Nobody i'd rather talk to all day.

I'd hate to come off as too forward but I feel safe with you.

Nobody has ever calmed me with a sentence, or hushed my overthinking with a look but you exceed every odd. I am so grateful to have you in my life.

" Fell for you from the start "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The first time we spoke,
The first time we laughed together,
The first time we hung out,
all replay in my head so vividly.

It felt like magic,
and I know that sounds cheesy,
but it really did.
i felt like I was under some sort of spell,
this eerie, strange orange haired boy,
making me fall for him from the start.

I never knew we would end up like this,
and I do say it alot.
he's made my life 10x better.
and I cannot thank him enough.

" why? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The older you get,
the more blurred the line between mother and "~~daughter~~"
it becomes.
I don't need my glasses to tell this difference.
So why can't you tell the difference as well.
when I was 8 you asked me if I wanted to die.
Now i'm 14 and every night before I go into bed,
I wonder if i'll find you cold and lifeless on the bathroom floor.
you used to do bad things and make me cry.
Leaving me on the floor.
Struggling to Breath.
Not being able to feel my body.
Or see through my eyes.
You loved to walk away like you didn't do anything.
and then you'd hold me and tell me to breath.
now you make yourself cry.
and i'm the one doing the holding and reminding you to
breathe.
I wish you'd stop making me into you.

" mommy "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm scared of you.
Scared because of how quick you switch.
Like Gasoline to a match.
I'm scared to trust you.
As you've showed me time and time again.
that I am not a "daughter" to you.
but a burden.
Behind the half drank Smirnoff.
And the cigarette that you never seem to put out.
I don't recognize who you are anymore.
And you pretend to recognize the person in front of you.

"I think moms need to cry"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I think mom needs to cry
just look at how angry she is
her face is all red and her fists are all clenched
and i'm afraid she might hurt me again
she's tired and she's hurt and she's sick
oh so sick
i'm afraid she'll hurt someone or something
or maybe herself again
and i think she's getting weaker now
and i think she needs to scream
and i think she might hurt her voice
and i think she's getting closer now
and i see that little girl behind her eyes
and i think i hear her screaming
and i think this house is on fire
and i see it all in slow motion
and i see it all so clearly
and i think i'm burning
i think we're burning
i think she's gone too far this time
and i think mom needs to cry.

" My Darling "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I can't help but adore you. Every feature you contain is nothing but radiance. Which is why you are my sun. To think someone like you could make me feel this way reminds me that the world is a wonderful place. The things I would do for us to explore and travel the world, to be happy together. For no matter where we may be, I know you'll make me feel at home. My home is filled with anger and guilt. Sometimes it is quiet. It's not safe nor is it nice. It isn't quite comforting either. If you were to ever cry I would hold and kiss every tear away. I hope for clear skies to return to you. My sun deserves that. I can't help but admire you. To look at the edges and curves of your hands and face. To study you util I know you better than anyone ever will. I wish to tell the world every single wonderful thing about you.

"I am so very sorry."

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I am obsessed with you.
No need to tell me twice.
Am I ashamed about it?
No.
I don't care about anything but you.
I don't care what people say to me.
Or what people say about my thoughts or outfits.
Your word is the most important.
I think about you every single second.
I don't like when someone simply breathes or looks at you.
They make me fill with so much rage.
You will never leave my mind.
Because I won't let you.
Not even if you beg and plead with me.

" Please "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Use me, Hurt me, And Bend me around.
Leave marks on me and scar me.
Grab me and Throw me around.
Discard me and get rid of me.
Do what you will with me.

I'll become your candle, so please burn me upside down.

I'll belong to you and only you.
A naked flower, growing thorns inwards.

I'll ruin myself for your love.
But all I feel is nothing.

" Let me? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I wanna kiss you until
we bleed in each others mouths
and keep going
until we drown ourselves in blood and saliva

I want to break you apart
and use your bones to build a house
to protect against the cold and stormy weather

and when it gets too cold
i wanna rip out all of your hair
and knit myself a sweater

if you ever get hungry
i want you to eat my beating heart

we should sew our hands together
so that we're never apart.

" Yeah "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm obsessive.
You know this.
And you are my obsession.
You're never really going to be mine, are you?
Yet you fit so perfectly in the fake reality that I had constructed in my mind.
Im my mind you were casted in the starring role of my very own romance film.
All of the fake scenarios I daydreamed of,
the ones that lulled me to sleep.
The playlist of songs That reminded me of you.
I romanticized every little bit.
But I suppose you'll never really know that at one point in time, a piece of you was mine.

" Could I? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i love being a mysterious teenage boy.
i enjoy dancing in the kitchen at 2AM while listening to classical music.
i'm fond of crying to Penelope Scott and Cavetown.
i relish taking mellow walks with my ghost as the leaves fall.
i adore wearing jeans and a t-shirt to school daily.
i appreciate being confident on certain days and loving myself on those days as well.
i praise myself for walking around the library in the evening.
i'm greatly fond of walking on a cold, fall night.
i idolize taking three hour naps with my cat.
i like the desperation when i hit the climax in my horror films.
i treasure singing Rebzyyx and Jack Stauber in the shower.
i love being me.
and i'm proud to say that i think i've found my eternal happiness.

" Disappointment "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I love your voice.
I love hearing you talk and apologize and ramble and yell.
I love hearing the things you're passionate about.
it's cute to see your face light up.
But when you talk about that stupid girl.
My smile slowly starts to fade away.
My heart begins to fill with anger and jealousy.
I just can't handle it.
I can't handle that nasty name coming out of your mouth.
What was so fucking special about her?
What do I need to do so you can view me the same way you viewed her?
Do i have to be a Girl?

" Got so sad I got happy "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I've always possessed the building blocks of joy
and I say joy
not happiness
due to the personal undertone of an everlasting constant and perfect composure
I though childhood moments were intended to be enjoyed
so unconsciously and so innocently bored and bothered for I knew it was only for a moment
a deliberately organized moment crafted to be consumed
but it wasn't going to be forever
eventually it would be over
eventually I would have to go home
and eventually it would turn back to dullness
a child's solution to this?
ensure to never indulge in this completely
never lose yourself until it's all perfect
until home is whole
until the moment is crafted to last eternity
from that came a yearning teenage boy who was both lonely distant
never fully falling into any of it
believing I must make peace before I am happy
hyper aware of my experience
pondering it's worth of emotional indulgence
analyzing if the rare joy I let myself consume
was nothing but biological adrenaline
and dopamine surges
or did i finally do it?
is the bliss I feel around my friends just pack behaviour?
or is my soul finally fucking fulfilled?
is the security and accomplishment of my new job
just bred nine to five culture?
or did i finally make it?
I believed that happiness was waiting for me
waiting until I was healed or healthier
in a higher tax bracket
waiting until I was whole
once things were how they were going to be forever
so I learned
I learned to accept bliss
for what it is
joy does not require prerequisites
peace does exist in a moment
that is always fleeing
it is not a new constant
it is not waiting for you
accept your anguish for what it is
for just like contentment
it is ever coming and ever going
anger is not burning inside you
waiting to release
it consumes and empties you out
just as you should allow your pleasure

"So Human"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I have a hard time believing that anyone else is as real as I am.

But today I saw a young couple kiss.
It was awfully cold and they had their Jackets on.
I noticed them staring at each other and they made a few seconds feel like moments.
Hands placed on faces and arms.

There was a huge line with so many people.
I hate crowds.
I can't see, breathe or think.

There's this kid maybe 3 or 4 years old, he had a stuffed animal cat and a few groups down there was another kid.
He stumbled back and they found each other.
They can't really speak, but from the second they saw each other.
They knew they were friends

I saw a man with his dog at the park, just them throwing a ball and laying on the grass.
I heard more laughs from that direction than I did from the rest of the world.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone sees me or am I just invisible.

The lady at the store always smiles at me and that makes me feel so welcome, lke I belong somewhere for once.
Cause no one ever smiles back and she talks to me like she's known me far longer than I've known myself, and I really appreciate and adore that.

I'm not a social person.
I can't order for myself or buy things for myself.
I don't make eye contact and sometimes when people look at me for too long.
I cry.

And so when someone smiles back at me or nods their head in my direction, it makes me feel alive.

No words have to be exchanged to tell someone that you're happy their with you.

And, no words have to be exchanged to tell someone that you're in love with them.
And that you want to kiss them.

And no words have to be exchanged to tell you that you've made a new friend.

they just know.

" i'm just sad. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

uhm poetry, i'm not a poet.
i'm not a poet.
i'm just sad.
and angry.
and confused.
i don't want my heart turned into art.
i want people to listen.
even when my words aren't beautiful.
if i sat and screamed to the sun every time would it start listening?
would it stop doing what it's doing?
no, cause i can't control the sun.
no matter how i feel, the sun will rise and it will set.
weather i like it or not.
no matter how much i scream or cry.
the sun will never stop rising or setting.
when i am sad, i can't cry.
i can only stare at walls for hours.
i can sit and try to convince myself that i am not real.
and that nothing's real.
even the sun ad even the fact that the sun sets.
when i'm not real.
nothing's real.
when nothing's real.
nothing matters.
and when nothing matters.
life's a whole lot easier.
but like i said.
i'm not a poet.
i'm just sad.

" I don't plan ahead "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

why don't people look at my face to decide whether or not i am living breathing art?
why don't people trace my side profile with their eyes as i walk past?
that's all i do.

when i'm looking around and even when i'm not, i can only focus on how beautiful and delicate everyone around me is.

i noticed the people wearing my favorite colors first.
and the ones with the best smile.
i look at noses. and teeth. and freckles and scars.
i love the noses with long arches and complex shapes.

i focus on the face first.
so after that, i try to see if the sun is making their hair glow or the winds making their hair flow.

" Shower thoughts "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I never thought i'd be writing poetry in my shower.
the water's warm.

i still feel cold.

when i'm here i like to dip into my thoughts like a hot tub.
this actually happens without my permission.
but instead of getting mad at myself or begin to pointless think.
i like to welcome it.

i like this kid.
but they don't like me back..?

why.

but that's okay.

because i caught myself restricting again.
i want to know what to say.
what to do.

i'd have to act a certain way.
because i didn't want them to think i'm weird or worse.
even worse, i didn't want them to think i'm boring or "too" much.

this is probably rooted in my internalized homophobia.
i thought i grew out of her.
maybe it's the way that we make fun of gay people and then cry about not being accepted.

we are no better.
we are no worse.
we are just the same.

when i think of them i get happy.
cause i don't really know them..
i just get happy about the thought of what we'd be like together.
it's not really them.
it's just someone that looks like them.
they talk like them.
they had the same smile as them.
and he's even been in a few of my dreams.
like i said, it's not them.

just what i imagined it to be like in a perfect world.

i watch tv and look at relationships.
to get so happy but actually i think i hate dating.
especially as a teenager.
and especially as a teenager in high school.

i like to get to know someone.
the first kiss.
the first date.
i like when they cry in front of me for the first time.
because they feel safe and secure.

i don't like fighting and arguing.
it scares me.

which is inevitable.

and i especially don't like feeling the pressure to do things.
i don't want to.
which is something i found common in every single one of my relationships.

i learned how to set boundaries.
but not well enough for other people to actually listen to them.

it's my fault that i should have said no louder.

i'm sure they're not like that though.
i'm sure they're different.

either way.
i'll probably never know.
because they don't like me.

and that's okay because they're just a shower thought.
and i think i liked them more as just a shower thought.

haha.
fuck.

" pause "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i write.
i write and i write and i write.
i write when i'm sad.
and my words feel beautiful like the salty oceans waves or the bright yellow sun.
but like the salty ocean waves and the bright yellow sun, my words aren't delicate.
they find this wonderful way of contorting into a sound.
that makes your stomach drop in the air thin.

i write when i'm happy.
i pause in the moment.
i take down what i see in here and feel this in some ways is better than a picture.
a picture is that for interpretation.
a shitty day can ruin the most beautiful photo.
but not my words.
no matter how sad i get when i listen to myself describe the love i have for the moon.
or list why red is such an obnoxiously lovely color.

i know exactly what my writing says.
i know the feelings i felt.
when i took out my notes and paused and took in every emotion i could.
i write down it quickly before i forget.

i write when i'm lonely.
even if i'm not alone.
and when i'm scared and normally for other people, but sometimes for myself.

when i write, and what i write is a secret to me.
the meaning.
who it's about or what it's about.
i don't share most of it to anyone.
and i don't plan on anyone ever seeing what i write.

but that's okay because i love to write.
and i will keep writing in every season.
no matter how i feel.
i'll write

kinda shitty..

" Truth be told. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i don't think i know anything.
i'm bipolar and i'm dying.
but i don't know anything.
i hate having to be an observer.
i hate that i can't imagine making my problems everyone else's.
and i wish i didn't hate everything i don't have but do.
all i do is hate and watch.
i know nothing.
but i'm too busy hating everything to ever learn.
i don't wanna be like this.
i don't wanna be like this so much so that i've tried to change over and over and over again.
i've tried but i don't know anything.
i don't know anything.
how can i change if i don't know anything?
who will teach me to stop feeling so empty and alone?
whose company will make me feel less alone?
everyone is here but no one is with me.
like i'm in a glass box and everyone is watching.
and they're talking and talking and talking.
they're talking at me.
but they aren't with me.
and i don't wanna feel like i have to crawl into someone's skin to finally feel loved.
like i'm not alone.
like i'm not empty.
i can feel other things besides hate.
i know i can feel other things besides hate.
but i can't change cause i don't know anything.

" Listen "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

My poems have no beginning and no end.
i feel like nothing is happening and everything is happening all of the time all at once.
i never really get to catch my breath.
but i'm never really moving.
i'm always in one place at all times.
like i'm staring at myself from the third person point of view.
i love watching people live their lives outside of mine.
because it reminds me that i'm one of nothing.
it makes me scream.
i am one of nothing forever.
no matter what.
no matter where i am.
no matter what i do.
i will always be one of nothing.
and everyone will always be themselves and i will never really understand your life.
cause i wasn't there.

does everyone focus on the trees?
and the grass?
and the clouds?
imagine that every leaf has a life.
and every spec on that leaf has a life.
and every speck on the spec has on the lead has a life.
does everyone focus on the trees?

i can't stop it.
it needs to happen.
if it doesn't happen.
i won't be able to breath like no literally i will stop breathing.
i think..
i think i do things because if i don't do them i'm scared that i will stop breathing and i get stuck on decisions and i get stuck on thoughts and i get stuck knowing the decisions.
i need to be making an endless loop.
and i thought everyone went through it.

do you still like the color green?
is green still your favorite color?
when you look at the trees, do you still love it?
sometimes green gets too dark.
and i get scared.
Because i'm scared of the dark.
but everything gets dark at some point.
and that's why i'm always so scared.
there's no point.
just words and sounds.

" permanent "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Nothing is officially ever enough.
whatever that means.
and even if it is, just because it's official doesn't mean it's permanent.
why do i feel like i'm always going to get the rug stolen from underneath me..?
like my world can stop at any given second.
like i have be okay with my world stopping at at given second.
saying something's official doesn't really mean anything.
the label or the claim or whatever.
saying something's official doesn't make it permanent.
i hate that i'm always going to be me.
even if it's comforting that i'll never be completely alone.
i think being alone with myself may be far worse.
concepts of never being permanent.
saying things are official doesn't really change anything.
words are words.
they don't mean anything.
so that's why i feel like nothing's permanent.

" I think "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I think I need me more than I need anyone else.
i think this and i also think i hate myself.
both are very true.
a paradox.
two both very true but also very contradicting.

well i do hate myself.
i hate the idea of having to be me for the rest of my life.
i hate the fact that i will never be able to fix myself both inside and out.

i will always feel like i'm not put together correctly.
But also so put together correctly that it might just kill me.

I don't think anyone's ever really going to understand me truly.
But i've never opened up enough for someone to actually understand me.

My brain.
How it works.
How i feel.
How i can't control how I feel.
How it dictates my entire life.
Even if it's just a simple moment.

Everything feels so earth breaking and lonely.

But not sad lonely.
Beautiful lonely.
Peaceful lonely.

I think this peacefulness is what keeps me alive.
Knowing that i have ME.

Myself.
My brain.
My body.

I will always have me.

" Tell Me "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

people sometimes forget that some things need to be said.
you know I love you.
you know I'm here for you, but I don't.
I don't know because you haven't told me.
and I felt so alone and shitty and fucked and you act like you care by saying I'm souposed to know that you're here.
some things need to be said. I need you to tell me you're here and that you care.
and that your real.
I need you to tell me that you love me and that you'll stay with me.
because I won't belive you.
you can make me assume, but I don't assume that anybody loves me and that they'll stay.

I feel like a burden.
and I don't talk about how I feel.
which seems like just a popular human flaw.
such a stereotype..
but I feel like a burden.
someone who shouldn't be alive.

please tell me you love me when you love me.
tell me when you love me when you see something that reminds you of me.
only say that you're here for me when you're actually here for me.

"Someone who loves you"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

it's hard to hear.
its almost impossible to belive.
but someone who loves you doesn't make you feel like that.

I think we're so good at blaming ourselves to the point where it's almost hard to understand That sometimes it isn't our fault.

we're constantly accusing other people's actions because you know maybe they didn't mean it like that.
or they're having a bad day.
or it was just a joke.

we're so God damn sensitive..-

but someone who loves you.
who genuinely cares about you.
wouldn't make you feel like that.

they wouldn't take out their bad day on you.

they wouldn't say things to hurt you just for a laugh.

someone who loves you, doesn't make you feel bad for treating yoh like shit.

it's hard to put yourself before other people.

but it's so easy to put ourselves last.

but someone who loves you doesn't make you feel that way.

"Black"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I like the feeling of the color black.

black as in black light.

don't turn off this light at night.

white sheets with you inside them.

more safe than warm and so comfortable.

your smile lingers on my sheets the day you leave.

but I can't stop smiling because you were at my place.

at your place the lights are red but they still never turn off.

and even if it isn't warm, it's still safe.

I hope your pillow is laced with my smell and that when you wake up you smile.

and when you cry, you have something to hold.

and I hope you don't get cold, in your own room without me.

when we're able to look at each other and understand, I know I finally found something permanent because I love the feeling of the color black.

but only when the color black is you.

" What. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

One day I will be a drunk college student and i'll be with a group of people who sort of love me.

I'm not anyone's first choice.
But I'm not anyone's last.
And that makes me smile.
We'll walk from bar to bar.

Stumbling over each other and laughing until we literally can't breathe.

Someone will be our designated parent.
And I'll finally feel loved.
And it's not the vodka or the drugs.

It's just in that moment, I was able to think clearly.

I won't see the past or the future.
Just the present.
Just my friends.
And how beautiful they look when they're laughing.

And how funny it is when one of them falls.

And how warm I feel when I realize that all the trouble and pain was worth it.

This is the beginning of something new.
Something undescribable
My life finally starting.
And the pain in the past, seems so worth it.

The pain in the future is so untouchable.
But I'm ready.
I feel ready.
I think I'm ready.

" love..? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I can't write about love that was in the past.

I can't write about love that was tainted with tears and exhaustion.

because that isn't love anymore.
and when I think about what it was like to touch your face. I don't feel warm.

I don't feel happy.
I feel nothing.

when I think about your laugh, or the way your house smells or the way it felt to hug you.

I feel nothing.
I can't write about love that was in the past because when I think of it, I try my best to feel nothing.

because feeling nothing is always going to be better than feeling sad or regret.

and nothing is always going to be better then trying to pretend what we had was amazing.

"Perfect"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I don't wanna have someone else's smile.

I'm tired of looking at other people and wishing that they looked like them.

I wanna have a smile like mine and have it just be good enough.

I wanna look at myself in photos or in the mirror and be content and okay with what I see.

I'm not saying I hate myself.
I'm just saying its exhausting, imagining how much more I like myself with features of other people.

I need to know that my nose is okay.
my eyes are okay.
even when I squint, my smile is perfect.
no matter how much I hate it.
I'm perfect.
I'm perfect.

and I'll repeat that thought on loop until I believe it.

" Call "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I saw that you called.
and even though I didn't answer.
I thought about it.
I'm scared to hear your voice.
I'm scared I won't be able to listen to you talk without crying.

I don't know how to start a sentence.
when I'm around you, my mind races on and on with our past emotions tied to specific things.

because of you, like the letter A even though your name started with an E.

last time we spoke, I would have done anything for you. which is what scares me. I don't wanna go backwards. and I don't wanna get worse. and that's what you made me wanna do.

you made me think it was okay to die at 12.
you made me feel like it was okay to give up on my life.
a life that so many people tried to keep alive.
I loved you.

I loved you like you were a part of my body.
and I don't really sleep on the floor anymore.
because they remind me of that night.

what was I thinking?!
I Don't think I was even thinking.
I think I was hoping.
hoping that that night was when we would stick together forever.

I was so tired.
and your texts were so comforting.
I would have died if I had never met you.
Or rather I would've killed myself if I had never met you.
and I think about what could have been different.

but I don't think I would be alive.
I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone.
and I hope your okay.
I just don't wanna die anymore.

" The want "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

people talk about how sweet young love is.
mine wasn't.
what counts as young?
oh well were running out of time.
for the most part.
young love isn't sweet.
it's barley enjoyable.
no one knows what to do.
how to act.
or how to communicate.
with maturity comes experience.
so why is there so much pressure to fall in love so young??
I don't wanna get my heart broken.
honestly I was too young to get my heart broken.
I didn't understand how to love or take care of someone.
I didn't even know how to take care of myself.
my first love was a girl.
she was tall and a brunette.
she was so nice to me.
and I loved how nice she was to me.
the morning after she broke up with me, I felt like I couldn't breath.
my lungs were so empty but so heavy.
I was way down in my mattress.
I couldn't get up.
I couldn't shower or eat.
I could barely breathe.
so why do people say that love is so special?
why do you even tell me that?
it honestly took me a while to get over it.
I still catch myself wondering why I felt so much pressure to be in a relationship.
when honestly I didn't even wanna be in one.
young love isn't something I want.
I wanna fall in love.
when I'm 28.
I wanna have an apartment with someone and I wanna dance in our kitchen.
I want the love that I can drive around in on the weekends and come home to on the weekdays.
so it's never too late to fall in love, right??

" Please. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

it was curiosity over fear.
fear could have saved her.
but now all she can think about is "just one more time"
when you're scared of drugs you're safe.

people that are scared of drugs don't take it.
they don't need it to have fun.
they don't have friends who do it.
but once you take that chance.

she then realized that it won't kill her and she convinced herself that she had it under control.

that's just the start.
then she started feeling safer with them than without them.

throwing up and passing out isn't nearly as scary. as it is when she was little.

she blacked out of the first time. and you thought she was dying. but when she woke up, you googled "can weed kill you?"

when she had a pounding headache, and couldn't stop throwing up.

then harder drugs.
some white powder that made
her resting heart rate go from 140 into 260.

a tab that made her see into another dimension.
when in reality, she was just sitting on the bathroom floor.

the bathroom she grew up in.
just staring at the walls for hours on end.
once she felt safer with them then without them.

she was too deep in.

" 14 "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I forget that i'm 14 because i don't feel like i am.
i feel aged every day.
Every day was 21 for me.
My life slowly going by so fast.

emotional maturity.
I don't act like i'm 14 because i don't believe that my ghost and soul are 14 as well.

maybe the trauma had an effect on me..?
maybe it made me who i am today?

either way i'm not 14.
Much too wise and old in my heart.
I know i've got so far to go.
To look forward to.
but don't undermine me because i'm just 14.

don't treat me like a kid because i'm not a kid.
is this what lead me to do the things i've done?
I've been been to an inpatient facility six times.
partial four.
before and intense twice.

if i felt like a kid.
what if have acted like one?
if i felt like a kid when i have different responsibilities with people who put less pressure on me to be who they want me to be.

would i be less bipolar than i am now?
could i have avoided all this?
is it my fault..?
will it always be my fault?
i don't know if i wanted to grow up fast before i was forced to.

but i'm being honest with i tell people that i don't remember.
i wish i could.
but i just don't.

it's just not in my brain.

" Empty "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

do i have regrets?
i don't know.
i don't know because i don't let myself feel.
i used to think i'd rather feel nothing than sadness.
but i've changed my mind.
now all i want is to feel something.
but to feel nothing to be nothing.
and i think i'd rather be nothing than something.
especially when i don't know what that something is.
with nothingness comes emptiness and then comes comfort.
when you're empty, you don't have anything to lose.
if all i wanted was to be comfortable than i should be grateful to be this empty.

" Parents "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i can't be a burn off.
i was never good enough.
the same way i can't wait to rot in the ground before life even starts.

the way i wanna give up before the beginning.
i'm constantly stuck on the thought of what had happened if.
it always lingers my mind.
day in and day out.
now a lot of people say that wondering about things that will and won't happen.

and these things will never happen.
it's useless.
but i disagree.
from an early age, we were taught that life is a competition.
you want to be the best.
the strongest.
the richest.
and if you aren't then you have failed.
such an odd concert for someone who can't even count to 10.

but they don't care.
start them young with them hard they said.
and when you cry and scream and say no.
they ignore you.
because they wanna make you stronger.
to be stronger is to be successful.
to be traumatized.
this is to be strongest is to be lovely.

grown ups tell us that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.
but then fail to realize it.
sometimes it does kill us.
and they're willing to take that risk because they want what's the "best" for you.

i didn't need to be stronger.
we tell them.
i needed to be protected.
they sit and they listen without hearing.
they don't want to own up for their own wrongs.
it's how their parents raised them.
why can't they do the same?

" life "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

i didn't understand much of what was happening which is fine because i never really do.

my life is the delay between plugging the charger into the wall, when your phone tells you that it's charging.

just a small few seconds.
why would anyone study into that?
at least 18 humans were born within those 3 seconds.
and if 1.80% of people are dying every second.
that means that every second that it took for your phone to tell you that it is charging after plugging it into the wall at least six people too their last breath.

i hope they got to say goodbye.
i hope they weren't in pain.
but realistically hope doesn't control life.
life will do what it wants.
life has no remorse.
i hate when people don't understand the separation between life and the universe.

the universe is made up of energy and creations.
beginning and end.
life is fate.
life is logic.

" I am "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm just exceptional.
I'm not horrible but i'm not great.
I'm not hideous but i'm not gorgeous either.

I'm the bright orange and neon green leaf flower that's forever falling off of the bush and that's baking in the sun.
The humbling truth is that i'm just exceptional.

In public, i don't turn heads.
But sometimes, i catch people staring.

I don't think i'll ever be someone's "Love Of My Life" experience but maybe the person before them.

I'd like to say to my parents that they did an okay job of raising me.
Although I resent my mother with all my heart, and my father leaving me at a young age, only to come back for a small period of time.
I made these choice's with my own thoughts and emotions.
Not them.
And certainly not anyone else.

This affected the appeal of me.
Which is of course part of it.

I'm not "girl" enough for a straight boy.
and i'm not "girl" enough for a lesbian chick.
this leaves a lot of other options for me, but that's besides the point.

my personality is just exceptional as well.
I'm not super funny or overly sweet.

I'm just so
completely
underwhelming.

" Summer "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

You're my best friend.
You're my best friend cause you never made fun of my family for being dysfunctional.

you never judge me for having a mess house or loud dogs.
you never made me feel weird for the things that felt so natural to us.

whenever i was with you, i always felt so accepted and normal and good enough.
even when we were little kids, we spent countless summers riding our bikes around your neighborhood.

we would discover new parks and every new neighborhood as they built them around us.

when i think of summer i think of you.
I think of your sunburnt face covered in dark freckles and i think of week long sleepovers when we were 12.
I think of all the dumb stuff we did for the first time together.

i now know we spent less times on our bikes and more times in your parents car.
we would laugh at the hilarious silence that was shared between songs.

we would hands when we were scared and we would share every single detail even if they were boring.

i love you felt so small when it was about you.

oh-
it was just a dream...-

" Someone like Me "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

There was a kid who was in my class that acted exactly like i did in elementary school.

Doesn't respond to people, avoids eye contact, and they blocked out the world by doing something else.

They difference was that they used their phone instead of drawing or reading.

Watching this person really made me see why my classmates treated me the way they did.

Some congratulated me on the simplest things.

They also had a level of caution as to what they would say to me.

I even had someone say they felt bad for me in math class directly to my face.

They were doing it out of pity.

I wasn't necessarily angry at them, both me and this kid were lucky enough to live in an environment of kids that wouldn't immediately eat us alive, However it felt fake.

Now i know, there's a possibility it wasn't.
When i look at this kid, i genuinely feel bad.
i feel as if i should go up to talk to them and say hello or give a simple wave.
But i don't truly know what they're going through.
And if they were anything like me, it's not what they need.

" True Art "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I can't help but think about how beautiful sadness is.
something inside me always felt this way.
i used to love the way sadness looked on me.
but even at a young age, i used to draw a lot.
and every person that i drew always had a happy expression. something i wanted.

however i love strong emotions.
sadness only feels sad in the moment but when i'm not sad anymore i can't help but think about how beautiful it is.

what's so beautiful about getting drunk and sobbing your eyes out until at 4:00 AM alone.
Because you convinced yourself that you should kill yourself.

what's so beautiful about losing someone you love.
and i'm not sure.
i don't think i'll ever have those answers.

but there's always been something appealing about messed up eyeliner and mascara and curling up into a ball on the floor.

was this all to cope?
am i telling myself that sadness is beautiful because i can't stand the thought of how i might look as ugly as i feel when i'm in a constant state of deep despair.

or is sadness the first stage of happiness.
a sign of hope.
i mean if i've been crying for a while then it means i'm alive.
and that i have skin and bones and blood and feelings.

and i've learned that i would much rather feel something too much for a second then feel it for a little bit too long.
this isn't a sacrifice that everyone has to make and i wonder how many people have actually thought about it.

i can go on and on and on for hours about helping bipolar shift my outlook on everything.

But it felt pointless because no matter how sad i get and how close i am to dying.
i will always.
and i mean always.
think sadess is the most beautiful art piece.

" Good person "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

So much of my mood is based on your validation.

if you can't tell me that i'm a good person how will i know that it's true.

i'm sorry my bad-
please forgive me.
i'm so utterly and completely useless.

i'm so so so sorry for breathing in your direction.
How will i know if i'm good if you can't tell me.
but look me in my cat like eyes and tell me what you want me to do.

what do you need.
what do you want.
i'll do anything.
anything for you.
it's always been for you.
you're everything i've ever needed.
you're my world.
i want you to smile because of me again.

i wanna make you laugh again.
even if the jokes aren't funny.
i will do anything for you.

my boundaries don't matter.
i don't have boundaries.
or do i?

tell me how to feel again.
please seriously tell me how to feel.

please forgive me for something that was completely out of my control.
i won't let it happen again.

please tell me i'm a good person.
how will i know if i'm a good person.
please i need you to tell me that i'm a good person.

your smile faded so fast.
you turned around too aggressively.
you held eye contact for too long.
and not the good kind of eye contact.
the disappointing kind.

how could i ever disobey you?
i am so fucking stupid and so god damn useless.
i had one job, and i even fucked that shit right up.
you hate me.
everyone hates me.
i'm so fucking worthless and a piece of shit.
i'm such a fuck up.
i mess everything up.

i hate me.
how could i hate me?
i have such an okay life.

people tell me that they love me.
but i don't feel like they actually mean it.
that's so much more than anyone could ever ask for.

how could i be so selfish.

" do i? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I fucking hate men.
And no seriously I really do.
And I mean i have an okay father and yes I do have brothers as well.
And yes I do have a few guy friends.

Many of the greatest works I admire were done by men.
Many men I have nothing but respect and admiration for.

I hate men because they bask in this admiration without the haunt or the shame or the guilt.
Without the daunt of the patriarchy.
Without the daunt of standing in a pencil skirt in a room full of men because you learnt to play the game.
Without the daunt of being told "you're not like other girls."

What the fuck does that mean?

Are they seriously analyzing that my personality and instincts are alike?
Considering the absurdity of anthropology. Or did he read my thesis.

Did he see me as a human being as well?

I hate men because it took me the effort to gain what was their birthright

" kissing? "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

do you guys ever kiss your friends?
like a real kiss?
not spin the bottle.
not get back at my ex.
like a real kiss.

i don't think kissing has to be sexual.
a lot of people aren't going to agree with me and that's okay.
but i don't think kissing has to be sexual.
i think it could be platonic.

i think i could be in love with someone and not want to kiss them and i think i can have a best friend and kiss them and enjoy it.

it's not complicated for me like it is for everyone else.
maybe it's just another way to show affection i guess.

uhm go kiss your friends with consent i guess?

"Indirect Conversation"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I pay attention to everything all of the time, even when i'm tired. Especially when i'm sad and especially when i'm happy and looking for a reason to be sad. I'll notice your body language. I can tell you're upset by the way you look at me and I know what to say and to do to help. I know exactly how to help everyone else. I know what they need to hear.

whether they need to hug, to laugh or share certain things. I know and i'll always make sure that they know i'm aware and alive. That they know i'm here for them. When no one else can see the tears in your eyes, when you stare at your fingers. I promise I can see you and I notice you. I'm here for you. And I want to help.

"The silence is loud between us" My best friend said to me once.

But many people don't like feeling observed. They don't like that I'm quiet and they don't like that I like taking care of other people and I understand.

"You ask questions that make people uncomfortable and you immediately go for the bite when wanting information or getting to know someone."

I don't like the feeling of being watched. I don't like when other people notice even though sometimes I wish they would. I can't ask for help and i don't like talking about how i feel and i don't like people like me. I know that if fully capable for doing something like that then I wont ask. It scares me. I feel like a deer.

🦖🖤🤍✨😀

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The words "don't leave me" and "please" and "promise" etched into my brain and in my soul. I can feel the words. I can physically feel them in my heart.

" Childhood Home "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

my house creaks.
the dryer is so loud and aggressive, it shakes my room.
especially at night.
i don't think my window shuts completely and the curtains are always messed up.

my house creaks and it leaks.
it has it's problems but so does everybody else.

my house has problems but it keeps a roof over my head.
my house is so much more than a roof over my head.
some of the tiles in the bathroom fell off.
there is a number of drawers missing in the kitchen.
and a few holes in the walls.

my house creaks and it leaks.
but it's so much more than a roof under my head.
and none of our furniture matches.
it's all hand me downs from other family members.
but that's never bothered me.

i love to think other kids grew up eating off of the table but i ate off of the first 13 years of my life.

i love my house.
the walls have been red and orange and brown and blue and grey.

i love these walls.
i love the floor.
but i hate and wanna get it removed because i remember every time i would do a craft in my room i spilled it onto my floor and it would create a huge ugly stain that i loved.

i would miss the stained floors and messed up curtains.

if i had to leave them.
i love my house.
because every chip of the paint watched me grow up.

it wasn't always amazing.
and i'm sure my shared bedroom knows that.
i'm sure my shared bedroom understands.

oh how i'll love to go back.

" Them. "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I've grown to dislike both of my parents.
Specifically my mother.

My father was okay, He wasn't around most of the time.
Which i'm glad he wasn't. I mean he was at home with us. He just wasn't there mentally or emotionally.
He had one job.
He didn't play with me or my brother, or cook for us or read us story books. He didn't laugh with us either.
But when he would laugh, he would always cough.
It's a bit sad that I can't remember what his voice sounds like.
I mean I can call him, but when he does call I get scared and I don't pick up. Always making up a lie and saying "Oh I was in the shower." or "Sorry, we were out shopping."
He was always doing drugs, or passed out from all of the meds he was taking, or he'd be in bed doing nothing.
But if i got lucky then i would be outside with him, and we would talk and talk.
There wasn't much to talk about because I was just a kid and Kids don't know anything.
But soon that cigarette turned into 2, then 4, then 6, then a whole pack.
Maybe that's why I suspect I may have asthma.

My mother on the other hand she was always at work.
Or she was yelling, or sleeping. She was always so tired, i mean i can see why. Having a dysfunctional husband and working 3 jobs isn't always easy.
she was never happy. Or was she?
I think she was when she met my father.
I mean who wouldn't be?
Considering how young she was.
My mother was beautiful young women and my father was a crusty 30 year old man.
I wonder what brought them together. Or how they met.
I don't even know how long they were married for.
but i'll never know until I ask.

I can't speak for what had happened with my parents when they were growing up because I was never actually there.
and i'm too scared to even ask about what they went through because i know what the answer will be, and if I don't give my mother a "good enough" answer she'll get angry and do something.
Always bringing those nasty things out on her kids.

I was around my mother a lot as a kid.
Or that's what my aunt tell me.
Always clinging and sticking to my mother.
Like I was trying to become one with her.

I don't have a whole lot of memories with both of my parents.
I know that they are going to die one day.
And I know I don't have a lot of time with them and that they don't have a whole lot of time with me either.
But i'm scared.

While it seems that they've both gotten better over the years.
As i get older, they're flaws become more... noticeable.

My father being schizophrenic and having bad anxiety as well.
My mother becoming like every other person, gaining the achievement of having depression.
Dealing with this alone, she then got into drugs and alcohol.
She's always so sad, a look of betrayal and loneliness in her eyes.
Putting up a facade up for her sisters and everyone around her.
Always laughing and smiling.
I would've liked to see this side of her more.
But I only got the side where she was high off drugs, drunk from alcohol or she was sad and out of it all the time..

I still think she got it due to her kids.
The depression I mean.
Having 4 kids and no man to be alongside with her.

A rebellious teenager.
A casual run-away.
A terrible 6 year old.
And a scared 4 year old.

Every man either getting tired of her or Leaving. Just like my father did. Grabbed his meds, His cigarettes and every porno magazine he could find. Leaving without a word.
I remember hearing a rumor going around.
That once he started to get tired of my mother, he had payed and met up with random Asian girls online.

I mean who can blame him. I would get tired of her too.
Just like I get tired of every single person i've met.
Leaving them behind or disposing of them.

He would pay them loads of money to have them fly from Korea or China or Japan just to have sex with him.
Although I don't like viewing my father in this matter, there are just some things you have to face.

My mother told me to "Snap out of it" when i was crying my eyes out, struggling to breathe, after she had hit me.
Not once, not twice, not thrice, but 5 times.
I could barely speak, but everytime i told her to go away
She kept telling me to stop exaggerating.

This was after she told me to change out of my shorts, because men would think i'm quote on quote "trying to be sexy."
All I was doing was laundry by myself in my room.

My father thought that all people who listen to podcasts are stupid, when my father listens to meditation to relax.
he's incredibly close minded.

My mother once implied to me that she believed that mental illnesses aren't as bad as people make them out to be.

My mom said to me that he was like this when they got married, and that's one of the reasons she wanted a divorce.
I believe my parents got divorced because of me.
My father almost killing me when I was only 5-6 years old.

However when I was on my phone with my father and my father wanted to speak with my mother, I gave her the phone and they got into a heated argument.
I was in the midst of it.
Trying to calm my mother, while being a scared little kid.

While crying.
That's all I ever do.
It's the only thing I know how to do.
Is cry and cry and cry and cry.

Is it normal for your mother to cry in front of you?

On movies and TV shows, i always saw your parents crying at the table at midnight, about the other person or bills or because of someone dying.

I know my parents aren't bad people, I really do.
Especially my mother, but she's only this bad because of what she grew up knowing.

The older I become, the harder it is to believe.

" Whiskey "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Your touch was like the taste of whiskey.
The kind that softly touches your lips yet leaves that warm amber trace down your throat.

Like liquid gold.
I've had one sip so why not another?
and another?
and another?
Until I have three whiskeys too many and my body grows cold to the sting and i'm on the ground underneath you.

I am drunk on your touch.
The warmth that has now become a flame.
It is part of the touch, it is unnoticed.
and in a possible attempt to provide a comfort on my pillow at night, I disguised this flame as theatrical romance.

I was on the ground under you, your hands on my wrist, legs moving upwards.
I've never been in a position like this.
Neither of us know what to do.
So I keep drinking you down.

But soon, your mother finds me drunk with your touch and takes the bottle away.

" Hickey "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Is it considered Misogynic to love the way blood vessels broke beneath my skin?

To see the patches of purple across my neck and collarbone?

To know you stopped the blood from flowing for everyone to see.

To remember the taste of my skin?
How it felt in between your teeth.
How you felt every breath I took.
How you could feel very sound I made so you could bask in it?

I wanted nothing more than for you to do it again.
and again.
and again.

To cover me in memories from your mouth.
To display me to everyone that you marked me.

" Grapefruit "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

When I kissed you, you're face was soft and your lips were warm. I hope that one day we will share a grapefruit with one another in the morning, and you'll ask me to lick the extra sugar from your fingers, the memory will linger on your hands and your mind all day. When I tell you You are handsome I mean it, and when I tell you I like you a lot it sounds like a prayer. Which is funny because I don't believe in god or anything like that. But when we go on roadtrips, we'll hold hands in small towns and i'll sit in the car while you pump the gas. When people want to hurt me by calling me a whore or a slut or a dyke, and when men at bars don't take no for an answer i'll tell them I have a boyfriend. Your love was commercialized when it was convenient. Sold at walmart in rainbow packaging while the profits fund went into a campaign donation group. Somewhere in London, after a long day of saving the world from gay agenda, a lawmaker goes home and watches lesbian porn. This is complex. Just like everything else. You'll wipe your sweaty hands on your shorts and try to kiss but miss my mouth and laugh at road signs. You'll argue with me for parallel parking and fall asleep next to me while watching a movie. Brushing my hair behind my ear. In the background will be strangers with their politics and religion and fetishes.

Things Blue In And Out Of Focus.

If it tastes bitter, sprinkle more sugar on the grapefruit. Dump the whole bag on it. Drown in it's gritty sweetness if you want to. There will always be enough. The fruit is wet, soft, and acidic. You share it like communion. You continue.

" Happy "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Do you think being happy all the time would get boring?
I know it's a dumb thing to think, and imposible at that, but whenever I felt horrible I always thought that.
I knew that I didn't wanna feel awful, and I wished to feel happy, but I told myself that if I was always happy, life would get boring.

Like a twisted justification.
For what I was going through.

I guess I was hanging off of the logic that bad things make great ones greater.
In comparison to the horrible days, the ones where I felt just "okay" were amazing.

On the flip side of that though, worser days seemed worse in comparison.
So in order to elevate the good, you had to lower the bad.
Was that okay?
Was that trade off worth it?
Or maybe it's all a lie, because good days will inevitably be tainted by the bad ones anyways.

That your happiness won't last forever
and..
You're eventually going to trip into another pothole.

It's like a sunday ruined by the monday after.

Or maybe, there's just no way to win..

"Perhaps"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I was lying down
Sad and unhappy in one night
And while looking at my bedroom's ceiling
A sudden "maybe" came to my mind
"What?" at the time I thought
Reacting to a word that made my mind its rest

After the mysterious term took me out of my daydream
Out of my idle mental space
I came back to my senses, and I began to think
what the hell was that
And why did it haunt me
That weird "maybe"?

Suddenly, a sadness came to me
It stayed there shortly
It took a while to leave, and then I realized
Lying in my bed, I wasn't sure
Whether I was alive or dead, in the past or in the present
Maybe the first, maybe the latter

Here is the origination of the term in my conscious
Coming from my moral inability
To step out of the threshold between "yes" and "no"
Cursed am I for keeping myself in this uncertainty
And live my days normally
Ignoring that phantom "maybe"

" A Sad Autumn "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

As the blood dripped
Amidst the starlight
And the haunted darkness
There came to me a certain demon that I loved
And in him my sad end was concentrated
A morbid death had formed

I looked at him, with angry despair.
And I cried, dying and in time fading
Beholding, in hate, that perfect and ugly face
My naked soul no longer had salvation
For it was hell that awaited me
Beneath the rivers of blood that ran through my hands

Wish I could have seen through this horror
Through this black magic that bewitched me
The autumn of my spirit has begun
And the cold winter awaits me
A mere reflection of melancholic love
That my sad body protects

In seconds, maybe hours, maybe minutes
I will die for good, and in vain
The devil awaits me in my sepulcher
And the love curse that was once a mystery
Now bleeds my wrists and takes me to rest
In the pit of the most hideous cemetery

"Stigmata"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Take me in your decaying arms
In this night of great anguish
As we are judged by pain
As you poke my wound
And I get lost between reality and madness
In your unfaithful feeling

I see you nailed to the cross
The same one I always carried
My stigmas are your woes
And with each cold dawn that passes
We no longer feel the blood flow
From the gaping cuts in our bodies

have me in your horror
And until death takes us
Finally break free and feel my love
One last time, at the end of time
And remember to lock the door
'Cause we won't be here for long

We'll be alone here, together
Eternally dancing, with light and ethereal steps
On top of the hot pools of our blood
In the impurity of our self-sacrifice
We'll see each other again on the other side
On the tombstones above our corpses

"Clarity"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Through a certain garden I've once seen
A brightness shined over the flowers
He had a form, a soul and a name
And as if He were the moon
Glittering in the sky of winter nights
He was a beauty that in my mind loomed

A blatant love stretched across my soul
A virtuous bravery was placed in me
And I felt as if living wasn't lifeless
As I swam across that realistic reverie
For my ghostly body finally reached
A renewed and disillusioned dream

While my feelings reached the stars
I watched as He danced amidst the flowers
And my imaginary raced to meet He
Hurriedly trying to embrace that gracious soul,
His warmth
And his feather-weighted heart

I figured that by now you've realized
After nineteen confessional verses
That I'm already yours
And as your heart enlaces mine
Our fates are spun together
Just like the scent of the flowers testify

"Ghostly Dance"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Amidst a morbid night
With a feeling in my mind
Where the dreams of you
Permeate my now sick thoughts
I push back the tears you caused
In a search for all that wasted time

There is no sleep
There is no happiness
Only your poisonous memories
That haunt my stillborn days
And it seems that I was wrong
About all the things I didn't say

While my heart pumped this loneliness
My painful blood slowly fell
In the cold and bitter steel
In the ground where I bury myself
And as I drunkenly missed you
I started hearing the song of my suffering

Tunes played in the distance
The rhythm was slow and cruel
And as the chords of fate were strummed
I wished you would leave my conscience
I wished I bled enough for you to see
That there's no soul left in me

"Ritual"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Candles burn into the night
Amulets are placed on high places
As the stars meet the magic
Of this mystical moment
Shades and shape define
The hues of a soul in torment

Spirits are attracted
To this bridge between worlds
Dark aspirations inspire
This ring of singing auras
While the blood testifies
A moon that weeps inside

Papers containing arcane words
Are folded thrice to hide
The profane meanings in them
Chills are felt, passionately
In a tender innocent skin
The divine is lost, defiantly

Strange symbols are seen
As the spells are concluded
Forbidden knowledge of the ghosts
Is released from old coffins
Like a flower, the crosses bloom
As the phantoms keep on stalking

" Dove "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I killed my first dove today.
I broke its neck just as it took flight,
Tore its feather out of its marble wings,
And dug out its gilded heart
From its thorny ribs,in the golden heat of a winter night.

I killed my first love today
Killed it right as its wings fluttered in my chest
For the first time, wrenched its fleeting touch
From the thorns growing between my lungs
And tore my beating heart out of its gilded carcan.

I killed a dove today, wrenched from its beak
The olive branch and the heavens' fruits
Drank its golden ichor and tasted its copper tears
Bit down on its marble feathers
And tore out a butterfly-shaped memory.

I killed my love today, in the sweet glare of the morning sun
In the soft haze of nascent death,
I tore out my heart from between my lips,
Closed fists like alabaster on ichor-stained skin
I ripped out the hungry thorns of a rotting rose from my lungs
And freed the hurricane from its prison.

I killed a dove today, with the same hands I used to hold your breath,
I killed my love today, and its tender neck snapped silently
In the soft haze of a dying dawn.

"Body"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Having a body is such a solitary thing. Hangnail, chipped tooth, the scars that are stories and no longer traumas.

What? You know I'm right.
The meat of you respects the meat of me. I can tell from the hitch in your breath. I breathe for me. You breathe for you.

We are scraped knees and body hair and every cell we've ever become. Yes, that includes each other. Did you know that a single tough can exchange more than ten thousand cells?

How much of me is also you? Do you think about it? The places my tongue has been?

I dunno. Look at us all alone together. In love alone together.
Age cooking us for the bugs together.

Our bodies awaiting death alone together.

" Breathing "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The wall vibrates beneath the weight of my head, like a living, breathing being.
The wall shakes and thumps and moves, slowly, forward.
Am I crying?
The wall rocks back and forth, back and forth, violently.
A bittersweet comfort.

The floor trembles beneath my touch, it deteriorates
And crumbles.
Am I falling?

The floor sinks further and further beneath the flowers and the soil.
Am I breathing?
The floor is patchy and faded, blurry and not-quite-there
Beneath my gaze.
Am I fainting?

The walls breathe and sigh with my sobs, waves crashing
Back and forth.
The floors fade and so does my vision, black dots and a blurry picture
Am I dying?
My limbs shake and burn, back to the wall, a solid support
Am I trembling?

The universe in a sismic armaggedon, pieces falling
To the ground.
The universe flooded with salty waters, oceans freed from
Their slumber.
Am I breathing?

" Shadow "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I met my shadow yesterday
Shook its clammy hands, greeted its trembling form
Wrenched it away from the bitter stench of sameness and cold
I met my shadow yesterday, it had no hands, but I shook them
It had no heart, but I shattered it in a million shards like glass
I hurt my shadow yesterday
I stepped on it and crushed it right underneath the sole of my shoe
Until it became flat again, its lungs caved in and its screaming silenced

I met my shadow yesterday,
And I spoke to it, too.
Its grin mirrored mine, its plea went unheard
And soon enough, it was just a darkened shape at my feet again
I met my shadow yesterday,
It spoke fluently the language of the birds and of the dead
And I answered fluently, too.

I met my shadow yesterday,
Its grin too wide and its tears too loud,
Its eyes too bright and its tongue too sharp
I met my shadow, and I silenced it, too.
Until it was just another shape lying face down on the ground, again.

I met my shadow

"Butterfly Affect"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Sometimes a butterfly will flap its wings just a bit too loud
And there is no escaping the moving storm of this matter
That flies through the heavens to rain down on us
The paper cranes flying around us in a group of bruised paper
Or the dark and stormy nights in summer

Sometimes, the butterfly is tired and its wings are silent
No flapping, no flying, it will sleep on a leafy branch
The world is silent then, no movement apart from
The rise and fall of my chest in the dark evenings in November

Sometimes, I wish to kill the butterfly so the world would just dissipate
The thousand melodies screaming in my mind quiet
And so the hundred ravens cawing from within my chest
Would close their beaks around reddened flesh instead

Sometimes I wish the butterfly was dead so the winds
Would howl unchanged, their plaintive rhapsodies
Soft-spoken and soothing like a mother’s voice
And so the paper cranes crowding around me
Would disperse in the slow moving of the waves

" Untilted "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

You've turned butterflies to stinging bees

I trip and fall and scrape my knees

But I won't ask for help cause I'm afraid

and it might hurt but I won't cry

because you said I'm weak if I

show the world that we can not be saved

you've turned falling into crashing hard

and thrashing in somebody's arms

cause I'm afraid that everyone's like you

and I cant say I love you back

cause I'm so scared I'll end up trapped

I'm so afraid of starting something new

"Coke And Coffee"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

it's fucking sick, isn't it?
I've been 65 pounds.
I've been 125 pounds and
no matter how light I get,
it is so dark here.

the pursuit of perfection consumes me whole.

consuming every thought
consuming every new memory
consuming coke
consuming sweet coffee

"Rain"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

What has my life come to?

I'm here,

sitting in an abandoned house.

waiting for the rain to clear up.

yes it's relaxing and I'm listening to music.

I have the urge to dance in the rain

get soaking wet.

have my clothes stick to my body.

perfectly shaping my misshapen body.

but I'll get in trouble.

is it really Worth it..?

to get in trouble and not let in the house for being soaking wet..?

I mean I can just clean it up afterwards..

why did I even come outside.

I should've stayed inside.

atleast i was dry and warm.

but I'm cold and wet now.

Wait.. how'd I get wet?

I'll catch a cold.

it's all my fault.

why do I do this to myself?

I don't think the rain is going to clear up any time soon..

I should've stayed inside.

Oh my god, I love this song.

atleast my shivering is synced with my music.

that's a good thing..

right?

is anything ever right..?

men.

I hate them.

I mean what ever did they do to me?

nothing.

so why am I so fucking scared of them..?

maybe I shouldn't be so hesitant with them, or nervous around them.

Laundromat smell..?

ahh..

brings back memories.

nice memories.

with mom...

Mommy?

please..

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to hurt you..

please stay..

I can't do this anymore..

mommy?

mommy!!

oh? the rain cleared up.

that's.. good I guess.

oh.

I'm back inside now.

"Words"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

"You're an asshole."
"I hate you."
"Leave me the fuck alone."
"Don't touch me."
"You're one shitty person."

I say as tears well in my eyes.
I say these words again.
Bigger.
Louder.
Angier.
I repeat as my cheeks burn red and my teeth grind with anger.

My finger points limply in front of me, shaking as my fatigued body rattles with sobs.

I point to the person in front of me.
Them...
Startled.
Shocked.
Stumbling back into the trash behind them.

They open their mouth but words don't come out.
Just air.
No sound either.

I'm still shaking, And crying.

The person in front of me begins to cry as well.

We look at each other and we slam our bodies together.

Hair pulled.
Screams and Shouts are being shared.
Kicks.
Punches.
Grunts and groans as well.

Blood.
Blood?

Why is there blood?
I pause.
And we both stop.
Looking at each other.
Gasping for air.

Who's bleeding?
Me or them.
I can't tell.
The room is spinning.
Why.
Why.
Why.
Why.

I close my eyes.
And fall asleep.

" Chalice "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

From great anguish comes great art.
So why is everything I make lack beauty?

For none of this is lacking.
The glass is not half empty nor is it half full.

The glass is a chalice.
A chalice overflowed.
A chalice drank and dry.
A chalice overturned in the sea taking on water and Sinking just below the surface.

The chalice is made of gold, now a tattered and weathered goblet.

"Sand"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The water is where I belong on the beach, not the sand or the rocks or shells. I lay in soft white sand, it sticking to my bikini bottom, to my legs and back. The waves are so hypnotizing, always crashing and falling. Rising and lowering if it ever so chose to. It moves aimlessly at me. I feel whole again, the feeling brings contentedness. It doesn't have much meaning. But the ocean gives me life, gives me feeling. And even though it burned my throat and my eyes, causing me to gag and rub my eyes. It was still nice.

"The Ocean"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

the ocean is boundless.
it has no boundaries and it never will.
nothing stops it from flowing so freely.

I envy the ocean.
but why?

i envy the freedom.
the space.
the vision.

it goes on and on and on forever.
none of us know what's out there.

it's so breathtaking yet so distressing.

people say that the ocean Is gorgeous.
beautiful.
pretty.
nice.

but do any of us know what's really down there?

" Women "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

There is something so beautiful, so raw and so genuine about relationships between women. Whether it's Romantic, Platonic, or Friendship wise. Something within the fresh earth. it's natural and peaceful. it's ancient and infinite. it's presence has always lingered between the few women who were bold enough to fall for such tenderness. the softness, comfort and happiness. the moon connects us all. throughout history a glance at the moon, a smile at the stars, has brought as all together. the women of secrecy and emotional scars.

" Melting "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I'm melting guys.
I'm sitting here and I think I'm falling apart, everything is so heavy and I can't really breathe and suddenly those tears are in my ears and my heart is beating so slow and I don't wanna do this.
I don't wanna fall apart.
I don't wanna cry.
I don't wanna have to think these things but I am.
I'm melting.

"Envy"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I want something to happen to me.
Something big.
something scary.
something that can be blamed for the way I want to let myself go.

I envy people who love for pleasure and pleasure alone.
I think I am becoming one of them.
I do not need sleep, food, air-
I need thrill.
I need energy.
an endless supply of it.

I need someone to punch me.
let me taste pennies on the roof of my mouth and the tip of my tounge.
because that is a thrill.
and that is what I need.

do not offer me guaze, or an apology when it happens.
instead, watch as I struggle to breathe and I shake and tears stream down my face.
watch me as I learn to live like I will die tonight and die like I will love forever.

and envy me.

because I will be beautiful.
and you will be too.

"Ego Maniac - Walking Paradox"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Do you think you're better than people? Or do you think you're worse than people.
I mean I fucking suck, but at least I know I suck.
And I don't know anything.
At least I know that I don't know anything.
And nobody's special, at least I'm not self righteous.
"I'm a fucking walking paradox"
And I think I'm better than people because I think this way.
I think I'm worse than everyone because I just said that.
Do you understand this egotistical loop?
Do you understand the shackles of self awareness?

"Thinking is so much easier when I don't think"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Everybody's a poet until they try to be. The beauty of your words can never be corrupted, just as long as you don't think about them too much.

Not everything needs to be wrapped away, a gift under tissue paper or a pill inside the dinner you serve.

Not every emotion you feel needs to hide behind metaphor, but you're arrogant and refuse to acknowledge that. You think those metaphors are blindfolds when they're never that effective.

Metaphors are veils, the kind of flowy gauze worn by your mother on her wedding day, the kind that makes it so you can still see the tears cried during her vows through the material.

I'll speak plainly now. This doesn't make sense, not unless you're making sense of it yourself. I know that and I don't care, because that's the whole point. We're all poets until we put in the effort.

Until we corrupt what we love for ourselves. So I suppose I just won't try. I'll leave you to try instead.

"Waiting for my two people"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It's so frustrating to need a change in scenery and not be able to get it. The other night, my friend complained to me about how everything bored him, and I consoled him by saying I feel the same way and that one day he'll find something or someone that'll change the world around him for the better.

So we stayed on the phone for a while, and he played the guitar for me and another friend, and I started tearing up during it all. I don't know why, I guess I was just happy. Happy to be talking at three in the morning like it was just another day and be so at peace and feel so loved.

As I write this, I want to get out of my room. But I was in my room when I was on that phone call. And I wanted to be nowhere else but there while the three of us were talking.

I suppose it's just everything declining to remind me of how I need people in my life like I need air and water. That no matter how much I change, I'll value their company above all else.

Maybe my friend will be the next one to tear up on call. normally they'd rather die that do that, but if it was with just us two. I don't think they'd mind at all.

" Platonic Love "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

Platonic Love is one of the most beautiful feelings to exist.
There's nothing greater than talking to someone
and feeling like you'll never be sick of them,
knowing your relationship won't progress past being friends
but you'll always have one another regardless.

You remind me of who I can be.
Or maybe, what I am but often forget about.
I always feel like i'm not much of anything, but then
you come along and make me feel the exact opposite.

You tell me what friends of yours say about me,
the kind of admiration that would never reach my ears
without your help.

But honestly, even when other people think these
surprisingly sweet and nice things about me.
It makes me much happer to know
you agree with every word
they've said.

"Ourselves"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

It can be easy at least for me, to forget
the way envy spares no one.
Not in the sense that we all feel it for others,
but that someone will always feel it toward us.

If i am so "flawed" that I want to be like
somebody else, what can I do if they
feel the same?

If we both want to be each other?

It will create nothing but destruction
in our pair.
We will live only to suck the life out for our counterpart.

I always fail to even see how someone could envy me until it is confessed. "I want to look like you, to find things "easy" like you do. I want to be you."

And I swear to you, you don't.
But that's the problem.
We're all too busy feeling our own envy
to even begin to understand that other
people can develop it too.

Too wrapped up in our own loathing to get rid of it all, to finally understand why we are also worthy of envy. We'll just carry on how we always do, and wish we could be someone else.

But never ourselves. We are too "flawed: to be ourselves.
Even if someone out there wishes that they had those very same flaws

"haha gay lol"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I've been thinking about relationships a lot more recently.
I'm 14, nearly 15, and yet I've ever had anything serious with anyone.

I suppose it's because I always felt so limited.
But now, I can't help but daydream about living in a little showbox of an apartment.
Preferably with another person.
A person I may or may not be in a relationship with.

Spending nights making fun of each other's cooking.
Watching reruns of old movies and shows.
Falling asleep on the couch together.
You name it, i've pictured it.
All that stupidly sweet and cute domestic crap.

It's weird.
I never thought I'd let myself think is as an option.
I always see myself as someone fluid.
But for the first time ever, i'm starting to see the idea of being a person.
An actual person.
Who's with another person.
As a real possibility.
It might even be a likely one.

It's scary to think about, but more importantly, it's kind of comforting.
I'm excited for what the future holds.

"romance"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I've always been a bit scared of romance.
and one of the only things I found worse than romance itself was admitting I was scared of it to begin with.
I've always worried that I wouldn't measure up in a relationship.
and it's resulted in me avoiding them entirely.
all because of my pointless insecurities.
but I have a much different concern now, that because I've passed up opportunities to have something romantic with somebody.
perhaps I'll struggle to find anyone at all.

someday.

and it's a stupid thing to think about.
because I have much more pressing questions relating to my past and future.

what I want to do with it.
and,
who I want to be.

I've been trying to teach myself to not desire happiness from others and rather find my own.
and wishing to be in a relationship seems to go against that sentiment completely.
There are so many things in life to love that are better than people.
and somehow regardless of that fact,

I think I'd love to have somebody to love anyway.

"Dissect Me... Please?"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

The rat has never looked more like a rat than a rat on the biology table spread across a small tray soaked in formaldehyde solution in an attempt to mask the rot.

A rat cut down the centre, observing eyes scanning it for every organ, assessing its congruence with the textbook pins through its entirety.

Spleen.
Liver.
Stomach.
Small intestine.

It didn't look a thing like the textbook.
It was brown and sloppy and tangled.
Not set out in blue and purple.
Not labelled or distinguished.

It had no familiar shape.
It had no evidence of function until carefully observed.

I want to be dissected by the public.

Tear me apart and lay me on the table.
Label every scab, then peel back all my skin.
Stab a pin through my brain and jot down the thoughts that you see.

Ask the teacher what they mean.
Was the hypothesis correct?
Throw the scraps of me in a waste jar.
Place my heart on the tray and discover my appendix is missing.

Will I feel functional if carefully observed?
Will I feel like a human?

More like a human as a human on a biology table?

"Coffee and Cereal"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I went to the mental hospital
and I learned I really like coffee
we're not allowed to have it
because it messes with you're meds.

so today I made cereal
with coffee
and I put it in my mouth
and tears started streaming down my face.

it was so bitter
it was so warm
so sweet

I feel so loved by life
when I drink dark black coffee
with little to no sugar in it.

life gave me the chance to drink coffee.
learn all the ways I can change it.
learn the best ways to eat cereal is with dark black coffee.
life gave me that even though I tried to leave.
and maybe it was showing me that there's a chance and I have a chance.

maybe I can make it and learn about all the other things I love to eat and drink.

maybe life gave me coffee and cereal so I had the will to discover.

it gave me the hope so that maybe I can find other things as good as coffee and cereal without destroying myself.

"My ignorance made it awful and My ignorance made it lovely"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I used to think that people who appeared cheerful were stupid.
I tried picked philosophy.
I decided life was meaningless, boring, repetitive, awful.
I don't want to make it worthwhile.
have you seen the jwst images?
I don't want to get better. There's nothing wrong with me.
Money. A big house. A nice car. A beautiful family.
All sounds drab to me.
See the world?
Have you seen the world?
I hate tsa. I get motion sick on planes.
I hate going to school.
I hate waking up.
I called it realist pessimism.
To be anything other than miserable was ignorance.
But that was my ignorance.
Today I got off school a little early, and I don't mind my classes.
So I did a little more homework than usual.
So my grades are a little above average this week.
I found a rose on the ground walking to school this morning.
I pressed it into a book. I've never done that before.
Gabriel is making me laugh again.
My mom is singing Taylor swift to me.
It's a super Moon tonight. I like watching everyone's head turn to it.
Nothings extraordinary.
I started breathing slower. Reading slower.
I like the idle time.
I started going outside everyday.
The wind in my hair, the dirt in my shoes.
I like the colour pink.
I have kids to tend to.
Now I listen to Destroy Boys, as I take feed them.
I started drinking water a little more, cause I like the way it goes down my throat.
And my mom still takes furniture from the side of the road.
We clean it better now.
I keep my room clean now.
Cleanliness is godliness.
I've been taking better care of myself now and I still get drunk all the time.
I like the color yellow a bit more now.
Not to cope but to enjoy on the porch at 11:00 PM with a class of ice water.
Sorry mom.
I want to enjoy the delusion.
I exist in corporate America.
Things aren't so good but I can make them be, and things aren't so bad but I'll make them be.
I didn't get better because I wanted to be healthier or happier.
I didnt get better, those thoughts are still here.
Lingering like the smoke last summer.
Every time I smile.
I feel like I look stupid.
Laughing like the fat kid who doesn't know they're getting bullied.
And every time I cry.
I feel like I look stupid too.
Sobbing like the privileged white girl who wants to die.
It all feels stupid.
The way I tried to articulate this.
Make sense of this.
The way I tried to diminish and ridicule this.

"Talking Heads"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I used to be so miserable.
I didn't only feel miserable.
I was miserable.
Miserable to be within and miserable to be around.

When someone asked,
"Who are you and what do you want?"

Two children's answers stood out to me.
"I'm an ugly brunette"
And
"I'm a bit of an egoist, I don't respect everybody"

Two adult answers stood out to me
"I'd like more heart and wisdom"
And
"I realize that personal freedom is not enough"

The contrast between juvenile and age answers is crystal.
So maybe my misery was "just" teenage angst.

In March I'll turn 15 at the end of spring break.

Reminiscing the battle of my childhood.
Myself versus sadness and confusion meld into the battle of my teenagehood.
Myself versus anger and vengeance.
Grow into the battle of my young adulthood and myself versus life.

I don't want to be miserable anymore and I understand happiness is not tangible anymore.

That's where continuous monstrous adaptation turned to sustainable beautiful growth.

I don't want to be miserable anymore.
I thought I felt this many times before.
I don't want to feel bad for myself anymore.
I thought I felt this many times before.
And I don't want to hate all of this anymore.
I thought I felt this many times before.

Establishing a line between mental illness and the natural misery is human condition.

Is that what growing up is gonna be for me?
I always wondered how adults made it.
How they smiled in the grocery store while sucide rates are so high and how they dealt with the weight of all of this while mortgage rates are so high.

I think its because they all want to and they all want life for what it's worth.

Though it simple, I think that's more beautiful than anything I've ever seen.

"The Hyper Awareness Of My Emotions!!"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I don't think anything else is real.
maybe I've cracked the code.
maybe I need to start taking my meds again.

you know how much I write?
constantly.

taking notes of every beautiful thing my brain tells me.
sometimes things just happen and so wonderful, a writers wet dream.

every thought at once.
with no motivation to record it.

moments like that go unseen, unheard forever.
it isn't like they've disappeared.
it's more like they never happened.

sometimes in the silence.
I can't help but make my sentences so deep and beautiful.
it's the urge to create.
the urge to create and not destroy.
to do and never undo.
the only thing that is permanent are my words and they only last a few seconds.

I think I know I'm lonely.
I know I'm not alone.
but I still feel lonely.

I know when I'm sad from the third perspective.

I treat my brain like it's separate from my body.

"it's okay"
"you're safe"

things I tell myself at night.
things that keep me around.
keep me here.
less lonely while still being completely alone.

"I Miss You"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I miss the summer.
I actually hate the summer.
I miss the summer when it was you.
When it was us talking about kissing under the bright sun and falling asleep under the stars in your backyard.
I miss that kind of fall.
I'm not sure if it's just a season and I'm not sure if it's just you.
but I never wanna talk to anyone else ever again.
when I'm lonely and you're the only person I'm lending my phone charger to.
I'm not sure if you know that or not.
I'm not sure if you really understood because I've never tried to explain it to you.
I guess I don't really understand myself.
I have all these feelings and I never know how to word them.
How to tell you how I felt without scaring you off or making you worried.
sometimes I think I love you so much it might actually kill me.
the inevitably that I'll never be able to love anyone else as much as I loved you.
but thats a winter conversation.

"oh."

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I yearn for something bigger, to be more important.
I beg myself at night to think of ways I can help our world which is constantly on fire.
I need nothing more than a way to create and not destroy.
I need to understand and I am running out of time.
I will never be enough.
And I will always feel like I'm never doing enough.
Like I'm missing out on something that no one else has.
I'm missing out on giving other people the things that they need.
Even when I have nothing myself.
I feel like I should chop off a part of my body if only it could help you I would.
I genuinely would.

"growing up"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-08-25 02:05:31 UTC

I hope I never grow up.
I hope I never grow up because If I do I might be just like you.

I want Grey hair and wrinkles in the privilege of being a sweet old man.
I want kids and the job where people respect me.
I want to hate that job.
because I want to feel better when I remember that my family is at home.

I never wanna grow up because I'm scared if I do, I'll turn up to be someone just like you.
someone who hates their life.
someone who's never happy.
someone who always feel so shitty and you make everyone else feel shitty too.

I hope I never make my kids cry when it isn't their fault and I hope I listen to them because that's all I've ever wanted.

I don't wanna give up the time I spent alone as a 14 year old boy in his room.

the time I spent writing love letters and singing songs and taking naps with my stuffed animals.

"I will never get used to being alive”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-09-03 20:38:56 UTC

I cannot get comfortable. I cannot get used to being alive. Sometimes I breathe so deeply, that my line of vision slightly moves. My body inhales and exhales as if the ground is inhaling as well. The body's divine automatic function of breathing. I intertwine at sight with a man's sloppily curated slab of pavement. It's unearthly antics within an earthly body. Being here is so fucking strange to me. It's paradoxical. My hands and my feet. They fall asleep a lot. It's pinched nerves and static. It cut off receptors to my brain. And I was just sitting on my leg. Really, I was. As I witness the earth moving with my inhalation. It's pinched nerves and static. I've cut off receptors to my brain. But now i'm sitting on my mind. How does it feel so distant and so out of reach to be stuck within myself, yet it's suffocating to be free. I'll never get used to being alive. It's a mystery, always startled to find I've survived. John Steinbeck from the east of Eden letters. "I'm performing unearthly antics within an earthly body, I am bound to be uncomfortable here."

"Like It? I Love It!"

girldogmillionaire — 2022-09-03 20:47:32 UTC

Like it? I love it!
Girlhood swallowed me whole.
But I swallowed girlhood whole.

I chewed up every ounce of chatting about our terrible sex experiences, savoring the way I finally didn't feel so ashamed and alone.

I licked the plate of laughing at the girls and boys, we used to love.

Nibbling the way we all want to die.
Bonding over this safe bet.
and it gnawed at my soul as I watched myself turn into my mother.
Grimacing at the sour taste that was left in my mother's mouth.

It chomped at the bit when I realized I had to be magnetic and lovely to be mediocre.

And I devoured the way we woke up together.
The morning after to a disgusting room.
Fast food bags filled with ash scattered along the floor.
I picked up a feeling of gorgeousness lifefulness bliss I feel in a group of girls.

The belonging.
The selflessness.
It began to ingest.
Slowly digest.
Every sense of self I had.
Every sense of sex I had.

I had it masticated the person I was before I realized that being a girl was not going to be my choosing.

“I am”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 09:55:13 UTC

I am just so incredibly sad.

Life hasn’t been

I feel like time is going by so fast and I’m just an observer.

My life is a show,

And I’m just watching.

I’ve sort of just sat here on my bed for the last month.

Looking and doing the same things for hours.

Being forced to relive the same memories.

And then crying so hard that my eyes hurt and it hurts to breathe,

Or I vomit.

Because I don’t want to relive those memories.

I feel quite guilty for just sitting in my room.

That I should be doing things like homework or chores.

Or even just texting people back.

But that doesn’t feel optional anymore.

“Life”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 10:15:55 UTC

I constantly feel like my life isn’t big enough.

I never felt like I had a lot of friends.

Everything’s always a bit empty.

I always felt like everything moves too slow and that nothings real.

The urge to go places, to do things with new people comes and goes.

But my motivation to actually change doesn’t exist.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to be an observer.

But I feel like I’m watching myself.

Catch fire,

And plummet to the ground.

Like I just jumped out of a plane.

Heading nowhere.

Except this time I was pushed against my will.

My life has changed, and I’m the only one upset about it.

But sometimes my life exploded.

Making it feel as if it got a bit bigger.

Less stability comes with more opportunities.

New ones.

You can’t fill a hole.

People leave.

but you can start new piles.

With new people.

In new places.

And your life will start to Fill a little less small.

“Don’t think about yourself”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 10:33:14 UTC

I see people with cuts on their palms, cigarettes littering their porch, wide yellowed smiles and uneven, jaggedy teeth. Eyes that hold a unique sort of experience - something extra hiding inside those abysses of color. Look in those eyes and you’ll know they’re alive and awake.

With enough years, you don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I’m hoping we can both manage to make it there. Him and I.

My teeth are yellow, uneven, jaggedy, misshapen and my smile is wide. When I want it to be of course. However I worry every hour, every day about the little things. Things that don’t even matter. My palms are smooth, married by promises. Instead I wonder if my eyes will someday start to reveal the truth or at least the rest of my future. I know you’ll be in it. You have to be.

I wish I were these people. They all terrify me. I wish I could avoid how I’ll become them someday. That’d be even worse.

“Trying”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 10:48:05 UTC

I bite through plastic and his voice pounds through my ears, and I think about what it is I can remember. All I manage somehow is this - living is not a peaceful thing.

All the moments I've deemed worth remembering are loud and bright, and sometimes they are angry and scary, too. But That doesn't make them bad.

They mean something (usually only to me) and that's what counts. I don't know if they'd mean anything to you, I'd love to tell you though. but I do know that people rarely ever want to hold onto the bright and the loud and the angry. They're too busy worrying themselves half to death, all about how they never learned what they'd want to have instead. That certainly warrants some anger.

I think what we secretly want most of all is to just understand. To have something or someone we can cling onto and say without a doubt, I have this or I know this. (I know this, I know you. I know what makes you cry and how I could make you cry and what you want or need. Even if you hide it, Your thoughts like to crawl out of your ears and whisper to me.)

I’d like to learn you inside and out. Just so I can pretend I have this. So I can say I understand this. Even when I never will. I know I’d like to try.

I don’t think we ever understand. Until the moment we realize we’ll never manage to. Never have, never will. I know we’ll try anyway.

“E”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 11:04:49 UTC

Sometimes you make me question my sanity.

Why am I crying over someone who doesn’t love me?

I wanna block you so badly.

Because every time I text you or call you, I feel a little sad.

I’m still in the delusion that you’re still my friend.

Or maybe still a person that I had a crush on.

And when you took 9 hours to respond my feelings got kinda hurt.

I feel like I’m missing something, that used to be mine.

And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Now I would block you.

But I can’t stand the idea of you forgetting about me.

Even though it’s been a eleven months and 5 days.

And if I blocked you then that’s exactly what would happen.

I’d be the one crying.

I’d be the one feeling empty and lost.

And I’m the one who’s getting lost.

So I’m not gonna block you.

Because I need you in my life.

It hurt hurts knowing that if I did you wouldn’t cry.

“G”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 11:13:21 UTC

Im trying not to feel.

I’m trying not to feel abandoned after you left.

I’m trying to get out of bed like it is nothing.

I’m trying hard not to feel bad about anything.

And I’m trying hard not to think about the fact if I was good enough.

Or what went wrong.

You didn’t even tell me that you were going to leave.

You just left.

I’m trying not to think of that because it’s 4:09 AM

And I’m scared of being sad In the dark.

Alone.

Without you.

And I’m trying not to think of that because every time I hear your name, it rings in my head and I want to die.

I’m trying not to feel like I want to die because I want to feel better about everything and everyone.

I’m trying hard not to feel abandoned even though that’s exactly what you did.

And I’m trying hard to trust people even though I look for you in everyone I know.

“Two people, one body”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 11:30:02 UTC

I’m so childish.
They took it as maturity.
And I’m so out of my mind, that they began to take it as emotionally in-tune.

I’m so silly that they took me seriously.
And I’m so serious, that they took it for silly.

I don’t know who I am.
I don’t know what I want.

I feel so loose.
I feel so lost.
I feel so lonely.
So detached.

I need to get out.

I need to move out of my body so badly.
It’s an urge.
A need.
A want.

And I’m so afraid of myself.

I hate it in my head.
But I love living here.

I have no interest in doing any of this anymore.

And I hate how everything changes.
So radically.
So quickly.

I feel as if I am two people.

And they hate each other.
Love each other.
Disagree with each other.
Fight each other.
Want to marry each other.

Love each other.

“Strangers”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 11:44:22 UTC

I spend my days between two worlds of communication. One which is spoken by many. And one which is spoken by few. I can decipher them both. Well enough to carry on. But I often feel as if I understand neither.

I live inside the cracks of hesitating voices and behind swiftly broken eye contact between strangers. I am in your shopping carts squeaky wheels or your forgotten, long gone cold mugs of tea. I am in the moments nobody else could possibly feel alive. And I live in whatever will have me. Whatever or whoever will be mine and mine alone.

Someday I think you might find me. Between the pages, and the tears, and the bugs that crawl over me. All the things that hide me away. Maybe it will be many years from now when you do. Years in which we have changed, too much to still remember. But somehow not long enough to forget, either.

So when we do, we can simply wave and move on. We will turn into the strangers, and I will find a new home.

“People”

girldogmillionaire — 2022-11-25 12:04:04 UTC

I’m not a consumable person. I don’t know how to forget about people. And then I forget to try. Because why should I forget at all? Maybe the people deserve to stay. Dandelions make me think of reluctance. And socks make me think of laughter. And butter knives make me think of impulse. But the good kind, the harmless kind. Everything I have or see is dedicated to someone. Something as simple as an article of clothing or color. Whether I mean for it or not. I live to love. You don’t get to know why these things are important. My memories are mine and mine alone. You can peer at them through the crack in the door, but I will not let you inside. Not now but maybe later. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Not really.

The other night I looked at all the jewelry and clothes and makeup that decorates my bathroom counter. I wear too much of everything. And take it off too quickly. And suddenly it’s covering the surface. I thought about how I should stop. Stop staying up so late and then pretending I don’t. How I shouldn’t pretend, things are my fault. But I do anyway.

I reminded myself that I have a face, a name. People who love me. Care about me. I have all the things that everybody else does. But In those quiet nights, they only belong to me. They are what truly remind me of what matters. Or who matters. They can scream, I’m all the moments. I think the worlds gone quiet. I exist. I am here. I don’t mind who I used to be, but I’m so much happier now. Here In the moment. It feels good to listen.

It feels good to have.

" Bad Pet

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-09 18:24:00 UTC

I got my teeth removed to lessen my aggression.
I bite when i'm threatened by unfamiliarity.
I am so mean when I am nervous.
I am such a bad dog.

I got my wings clipped to lessen my curiosites.
I leave when I get the chance.
I caw loud and cause a ruckus in my stirring boredom.
I am such a bad bird.

I got my claws removed to lessen my painful kneading.
I am causing you pain for my affection.
I am scratching your leather couches for my own mundane pleasure.
I am such a bad kitty cat.

I had a piece of my frontal lobe removed.
I am such a hysterical human being that it has to be a condition.
I am detached from societies reality.
I am such a bad pet.

" Expression "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-09 18:37:16 UTC

I find that I say I can't express myself and that feels ludicrous to say. I express myself in the way that I walk and the way that I sigh. Or by the way I stand by the sink. I express myself when I choose to wear the cute underwear over the ugly ones. When I choose what song on what playlist and when I choose not to drink or smoke or cut right when I get home. I express myself in the photos I take of myself. Or of others when their hair is messy and their teeth are sharp and jaggedy. And every time a movie or song makes me cry. When I pick up the bruised plum over the ripe one and when I buy myself new sheets. I say I can't express myself and I say it because the form in which I am constantly expressing myself is visible to only me and what is expression if no one's watching? So I guess it's being alive. Living. For the way I am hunched over my notebook writing this is a greater expression. of my burnt out body. My lack of maintenance over posture and how badly I want to be seen rather than an expression of being frustrated by the daunting concept of attempting to tangibly express myself.

" I hoped that the world ending should have came sooner "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-12 17:56:20 UTC

And I freak out so badly over my own life and its state, that everyone else's response is that the world is ending. I am not stupid and the world is not ending. But for now it feels as if my place, I have known in it is. I am a fool for pleading that the sky is falling down to a person who cannot even see blue.

" Nothing "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-12 18:13:24 UTC

And even if it takes every atom in my body to stop the murmur of my heart and every ounce of energy that goes towards quieting my heart then it cannot be destroyed and that makes it tampered, dwindled, self back into my body. Back into my brain. The journey in which ration makes the energy so fucking boring. So tired.

I no longer try to quiet this aching nothingness.

For nothing to me could never be nothing.

" Empty, Acceptance "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-12 19:12:33 UTC

I cannot explain it, my vocabulary, so inept. Everything hurts so fucking badly. I have no poetic language for feeling so

alone in my head, trapped in my body. I feel so hollow in reality, lonely with delusion. Suffocated with love, isolated with hate. Lonely in conversation and alone in silence. I hate myself a lot, I love life a lot. I don't want to kill myself and I won't kill myself. I think about it often, brings peace, brings belonging, pondering it feels more human than communal.

Than any thought that decides to come into my head and run circles around over and over again. It's the most conscious thought there is. No wild thing would ever think this. There is a fly on my keyboard as I type this. My hands are bashing into the keys, it's scary, loud, abrupt. Does it feel sorry for itself? Does it want to die quicker, less painfully, with more dignity? The will to survive, the will to live? I have separated them, I have made a muddy line. A line 10 yards wide, I meander within it, letting my brain ooze through each side.

" Him "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-20 20:19:49 UTC

You're embedded in every small thing.

I forgot your laugh.
I forgot the exact color of your eyes and if you had freckles on your face or not.
And I think I might've forgotten your voice.

But i'm a little drunk and really tired so i'm not sure.

Do you know I think about you most days.
It's not intentional.
And I really wish it would stop.

I wished it would stop since the second it started.
The moment I started thinking of you as a memory instead of future plans.

I'm not embarrassed about how much I love you anymore.

I realized it was special.
But is it really that special to love someone the way I loved you.
Not everyone is able to love the same way I do.

I'm not going to thank you for helping me discover that.
Because that was all me.

And every small thing that reminds me of little morsels and slivers of our past.
and will one day just be things.

The phone will just be a phone.
And the pictures will just be moments stuck.

" Candy and Scratchers "

girldogmillionaire — 2022-12-28 09:34:03 UTC

Getting gas is being trapped in a time machine.

The way that I watched my mother do it.
I sat in the car and drew a happy face on the fogged window.
I rocked back and forth in my booster seat and hoped my mother would buy me a candy bar.

I felt the utter excitement in the car when they'd buy the scratch tickets.
I didn't know what the lottery was.

I only knew that my mother was feeling joyously sporadic.

There was something foolishly hopeful in the car.

I get gas for my mom when she can't.
It's cold so i'll stand outside with her as it pumps.
Comfortable silence.
And I have money to buy her a candy bar yet I don't.

She doesn't fall for scratchers very often.
Every now and again she's think that it's kind of fun though.

Everything is less visceral now.
It's too clear.
It's too logical now.
And it will only grow more clear.
I will only grow more unimpressed.

I try to stop it.
I try to hold my days with both of my hands.

And If times can heal all, what could soothe the pain of time?
The pain that time heals.

I understand.
I understand that it happened.
I must feel and I must proceed from it.

The pain of passing time sneaks up on me when I'm in the store.
It sneaks up on me when I see a familiar carpet pattern.

When everything in my body caves in on itself and it's suddenly 2018

When everything feels echoish and it's like i'm there again.

But i'm the only person in the room.

I believe that this is beautifully haunting.

This passage of time.

" Uh huh "

girldogmillionaire — 2023-03-08 23:06:15 UTC

The way that I can contort and stretch my body seems sacreligious.
Pick things up from the dirty, grimy floor with my feet and carry them to my hands.
The skin on my arms are resilient and bouncy.
My lips are full.
My cuticles are moisturized.
My metabolism works.
There's no dire need to worry about how much sugar I eat.
The time that lay ahead of me.
The decisions there are yet to make.
Being able to make my own bed and jump from the front seat to the back.
Being young is so sweet and yet I am haunted by my youth of failing myself by living a life of mediocrity and regret.
Every birthday and every new year.
The ache I feel to display myself, create myself.
Biting my fingernails and gums.
Letting this time pass me by.
I analyze what it would mean to me to live in mediocrity and to me it has no relation to career nor status nor wealth.
Rather it would be to live as if I will ever be static.
To strive for a completed essence.
To think I'll ever have enough if I ever need more.
As if with enough right decisions and bettering myself.
I could reach my full potential.
As close as I could get to an all encompassing state of being.
Sometimes I'm grand and exuberant and full of stars.
Otherwise I do not talk much.
I'm a bland and I'm a unpleasant girl.
Others I'm laughing all day and yet I am melancholy.
I dream of being a star and being loved by everyone or of stabbing my eyes out, screaming. And making everyone watch.
Reserved and anxious others.
I try to be a charismatic socialite.
I eat plums and sweets.
I ride bikes.
I buy cigarettes and shampoo.
I drive my mother's car.
Sometimes I cannot imagine Sisyphus happy.
Sometimes I feel really good and I dance.

" me "

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:01:37 UTC

I sit in the dirt, and I watched my manicured hands begin to peel the dry bark off of a fallen tree. Am I doing what we do? Intentionally destroying and dredging. Being instinctually human and willing to ruin what is natural. Or am I only doing what we do and curiously picking and peeling back my skin. Being innately human, wanting to accelerate what is natural. Am I cogged or am I turning? Am I nasty and terrible or am I human and have a soul.

"Girl"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:02:03 UTC

Last day of my period, I always feel very sad. My psych major friend told me it can stimulate a feeling of postpartum depression in the body. My mom and I have a lot of disconnect, but we like the clearance section together. She laughed with me like a friend and I am afraid that we won’t ever be alike. I see her plug in her hair dryer and for a moment I feel held.

"Another Place"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:03:51 UTC

I need to move.

I grew up here and I need more. I need to move. But what if its cold and it echoes in my apartment? What if my heater breaks?

I need to move, but what if I forget my little brother’s birthday? What if my mom forgets what I get at the gas station? I need to move, but what if nothing changes? But no more cat to spill my day on. No more Cat to spill my milk on. I need to move, but what if my mind follows my body? If I can't escape what I am, then it shouldn't matter where I am.

I want to move.

What if the traffic sounds are a higher pitch? And what if I save up for a new car. I want to move, but what if the grocery store has the magazines I like, the ones I can't find here.

What if the streets have buskers? The ones who are loud and obnoxious.

I want to move.

What if my writing has more room to breathe. What if my mind has more room to stretch and bend in a one room apartment.

"help"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:06:41 UTC

Nearly everything in life is going to be easier said than done. But why didn’t they exclude living?

This has been much harder said than it has been done.

I have over complicated my time here.

Once Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is constantly sustained.
the void feels endless.
My imagination is not nearly enough.

Perhaps I am mad or perhaps I am stupid. Perhaps I am greedy.

Living is to be enjoyed, not analyzed. Why have I trapped myself in a box to choke on my own keys.

"Intensely"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:10:01 UTC

I desperately tried to savor the short lived relief I’d get after doing something good. Something morally human.

Believing that this satisfaction could be my static state. I had emotional permanence issues on my own. If I did not feel leisurely, content, warm, and whole for more than an hour. It must mean that my life is bland and dismal, missing something.

I must do more, get more so I can feel better more. Be around good people, consume art, literature, architecture, eat good food, challenge myself, educate myself, share myself, be in the sunlight. Exercise, love, laugh, save bugs, feed animals, plant seeds, throw rocks.

I overindulge in what the human being craves, with the hope that I can control the fluctuation of how I feel in a day to consist of positive influxes only. I always wanted more of something I couldn’t physically grasp. Couldn’t mentally articulate and I feared living without it.

I'm now beginning to ward off the haunting feeling of regretting the life that lay before me. For to live in mediocrity would to be to live as if I will never ever be static. To strive for this “completed essence”

Cause sometimes I am grand and exuberant and full of stars, others I do not talk much. I’m a bland and i'm a rude girl.

"I love life"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-06-26 16:11:38 UTC

I had no responsibilities to fill today.

I just wanted to go outside today, to make this time my own. To walk on the snow and examine the hollow feeling, the way that it shatters and makes way for my shoes. The way that a headache sprouts from my freezing ears, to stop walking for a moment and see if there’s any sound excluding me.

It felt as if the earth was all for me.

The patches of muted green where the sun is shining, the loosened mud melting where the people walk.

The blood taste at the back of my throat from seeing how far I could run to cover enough ground quickly feels instinctual as if I've been here for a thousand years.

I walk into the small valley where a creek runs through the summer. I remember drinking from here in June. When my head ached from heat exhaustion and I wore no shoes. I stopped drinking for a moment to see if there were any sounds excluding the water.

It felt as if I was all for the earth.

To make this time my own is to be on my own with time and I enjoyed being outside today.

"Propaganda"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-07-11 05:14:20 UTC

And oh my god am I an ever disgustingly vilely ever longing ever consuming glutton of what feels good.

Oh that feels good.
Yeah there that feels so good.

I've never been immune to propaganda.
I feel it growing from under my teeth.
It breaks through my gums when I'm sleeping.
The ache for success, power, control.
I've tried to pull it out.
Pull them all out.
Keeling over in shameful envy of all that is not me.
White sprouts forcefully through pink.
When I meet model's and buskers and retired shop clerks, athletes and mathletes, butchers and moms who fight.
Envious if anyone who can haphazardly portray a well knowing if themselves and survive.

I'm just a Pisces women, no I'm just ambitiou,, driven and articulate.

So that's why.
That's why, I feel my jaw bursting under the pressure.

Pressure from who
What, when, where, why?
Why is there pressure?
What do you want to prove?
Contentment is not something that is gained.
It's rather hashed out, so why am I buzzing?
Rotting day to day.
Feeling the pressure, built to create, share, consume.

I'm already 15 but I think of other 15 year Olds. They're only 15. They're supposed to be figuring out how to love, how to cope, how to thrive. What they hate and what to make.

But me oh but me.
I'm already 15, and the time is fleeting. I need best under 40 before I hit 30.

I tried to pull my teeth out. And I'm embarrassed I'm not strong enough. As even what I've made from scratch have never been immune to propaganda.

"I don't know man"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-09-18 16:52:56 UTC

I've been it for a while now. The feminist who can't take a joke. Who's too uptight. Who makes everything about sex. Who has to bring up the patriarchy while we're out drinking. Ruin it for everybody. Because they didn't mean it like that. And "bitch" is only a word, like "fuck" or "shit" and "whore" is only a word like "fuck" or "bitch" I didn't wanna ruin the party. When I pondered why he tells me that im going too far with my feminist thing and why he's disgruntled that that causes me deep anger. I know to keep a stoic tone and to level with him. "I have female classmates who hate men" "I hear the way you talked "badly" about that boy" "misogyny has an antonmy" how do I reply to such under nuanced statements. From an intellectual theoretical debate about hierarchy in the workplace to me giving an empirical speech about the non western world and having the fallacy of relative privation pushed into the back of my throat. I keep a stoic voice and have to appeal to them like children telling them that the patriarchy negatively affects them too, ears perk up. I think I made some progress. Then he taps his buddy on the shoulder to reminisce and congratulate him on fucking the smart bitch. Recalling the last time I had lackluster sex with a superficial leftist and where do I place this anger. Where can I set this betrayal of humanity down. If they don't listen when I speak and ridicule when I scream don't hear peace and strike down war. Liberation is to cause the oppresser discomfort and when he tells me that im going to far with my feminist thing. He is disgruntled but that causes me deep anger. "We live in America, women here should be grateful." I ran into the news for suspected poison attack on school girls. I talked with a women who had her genitals mutilated to preserve herself for her future husband. The fallacy of privation will not save you. I see my friends cry in helplessness and donate and post and I watch the boys we plead to support watch schoolgirls on Pornhub and then ask why they can't put it back in after trying anal. I look at my mother's face recoils when were watching a show about a husband cheating and he yells and it's painful and I watch men make jokes about their wives about being tied down as if their wife is an authority and obligation, not a partner or a lover. I asked them if they even liked their wives and I'm the bad guy. I'm the bad guy for not taking a joke because they didn't mean it like that so how else did you mean it? And I fear for myself because I think children are beautiful and I want to share the stars in the MUD with someone else beautiful and men look back at me. They look back at me angry, angry that I don't want to share this with them any longer.

"Soft"

girldogmillionaire — 2023-09-18 16:55:42 UTC

"Your skin is so soft. Your skin is so so soft." He says this as he takes my bra off. he's kissing my shoulders. your skin is so soft.

"Thank you I guess." I giggle and I feel your large cold hands touch my skin. I always get shy when complimented about my body. I make a sugar scurb with coconut oil, sugar, and espon salt. I use lotion of my wet shaved body. I use baby oil to lock it in. I haven't gotten razor burn since puberty. your skin is soft and I like this sentence. it made me feel subtle and loveable.

"Have your tits gotten bigger? They look great." Stop it. I don't know. Tell me that my skin is soft, that doesn't feel like my body. Tell me that im soft. Treat me like you feel the soft. Ass and tits. They sound so harsh, you say them harshly, like they are harshly.

I try to be soft. My soft skin covers my entirety. Please. Please tell me my skin is soft. Notice all the scars, marks and blemishes. Tell me that you see me for the whole of something.

Being Online at 15

girldogmillionaire — 2023-10-18 03:46:44 UTC

Instagram came out in 2010 and started picking up around 2013. I was 7 years old on my phone that used to be my mother's. I remeber seeing a Disney Channel star on the explorer page and feeling as if the two of us were in the same space. The same room as if she could see me like I see her. We're both on instagram. It was the first time I ever saw a celebrity candidly like that, not on the television or Getty Images. It was jarring almost. It was exhilarating and confusing. In 2023 now, I frequently get the honour to DM with artist, writers, rappers, etcetera. Who trump all regards in which, I held that Disney Star, and it's water off my back. I've watched the internet mold itself into myself and my peers alike. Instagram changed not only our relationships with fame and clout, But our relationships with one another. Romantic and sexually specifically. And maybbe it's generational or just growing up obbsessed with the internet. But I find our dystopian modern romance scene kind of sexy in a weird way. Meeting through mutal followers or at a bar, and scrolling through their feeds in the morning. Seeing people, you know and their like. There's something exclusive about it, Online desire is something older people than us cannot relate to and people younger than us are starting to find out but now there's no true thrill in texts and likes. for 18 to 24 year olds, online dating is so socially accepted yet terribly taboo. I think it's already dated. We're all embarrassed that us as a generation are left here. It feels desperate, naked almost. Like we know that this not the way, but what else do we do? Even when we do meet people organically in person, at bars or shops or parties, communicating through social media still where a lot of first conversations take place. An instagram profile while social platform and content sharing tool is a dating profile and we are simultaneously seemingly tied to them while feeling great distance from our online personas.

Getting to know someone over a screen is something humans are already beginnng to adapt to but to analyze a text tone is still so dehumanizing for the current mind. Especially the ones that were only half raised in it. There's a movement of people who want to kind of go back, these problems arise from social media, so just delete social media. But that's nearly impossible for a young person. For humans to develop intellectually and culturally advanced tech and social media networks are going nowhere. The upcoming generation's mind will adapt, look at how tech savvy just young childern from generation alpha are. How lacking of stimulus they feel when interacting with people older than them. So there's a side of me that kind of has to romanticize it view it as a cyberpunk futuristic; society is changing so rapidly over our young adulthood and we're having trouble adapting. But at least, we have the most inhuman technology to give us access to the most human action. Sex, kind of way. It's weird. I find songs that have lyrics about sexting and nudes to be more sensual than ones about real sex. Songs that have lyrics about video games, vaping, texting, etcetera to be more raw and sexy than the ones about records, cigarettes, letters, etcetera. Kiss Me Through the phone by Soulja Boy was always so cool to me growing up and Iphone by Rico Nasty still feel so cool to me now. Maybe i'm trying to create a future nostalgia for my youth subconsciously, consciously. It's like jewels and DJs are for Gen Z. What Cigarettes and Grunge were for Gen X. It's interesting, it's cool, it's the youth collective. We don't want to miss out on our generations culture and when we go offline, we feel terribly disconnected from our peers. Like we're missing out on the inside joke. Like they're gonna leave me behind if I can't keep up.

God. Growing up on the internet at such a young age. What?

girldogmillionaire — 2023-12-18 20:50:36 UTC

Animals are born with all the eggs that they are willing to produce. Meaning that the molecules that make me have existed since my mother was born. The molecules that make her since my grandmother was born and then her mother was born and back and back and back again. Coinciding that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. I cannot help but think that I'm only borrowing this autonomy. This consciousness. These fingernails. I cannot help but think there is no great distinction between self and earth. Does it ever end. Did it ever start. I cannot help but wrythe in shame that I once pondered an experience more fanicul than being a leaf on a tree that has grown for billions of years. Falling to the groud. Decomposing. Dying. Birthing. Crying. Laughing. Getting to dissect its own thoughts like this.

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 11:31:42 UTC

I dont know why Im writing to be honest. I hate writing. and I feel like when I do write, its embarasing and its just me trying to make everyone feel bad for me and like I dont know. But I feel like whatever it is that Im feeling, others have to feel or maybe im just saying that because of what the fuck just happened. Maybe im moving too fast?? I dont know. This is too fast. I dont know what THIS is. But Im doing it and I have to accept that and be okay with that. If that makes sense. Nothing I fucking do makes sense. I just do it to like. Do it and that sucks I guess?? I have no real purpose and I feel like nobody really does to be honest. Which sucks. But Its true. Partly. I dont know. This fucking sucks. No idea where my head is half of the fucking time or what Im thinking. None of it makes any sense and like when I do speak it, I dont remember it and that sucks. Its all such a blur, like THIS thing isnt even mine. Its beginning to feel force fed again. Everything. Like everything I do must have a purpose or like I guess a reason for me to do so? maybe. Who knows anymore. I dont know, I know that for sure. I dont see myself being or getting very far. and I have that voice in the back of my head screaming HIM. which isnt very helpful. Like okay. It is??? But then again isnt as much. I dont know. 2023 was okay. and 2024 so far isnt that bad. My behavior and actions and words and everything was gross. It sucked. I suck. THIS sucks. Why am I even referring to THIS as THIS when I dont even know what it is or can begin to explain what it is. I think about how my experiences are mine. and yes they are but I feel like sometimes they HAVE to be mine and only mine. Im selfish in that way and that sucks. Maybe it doesnt suck when I can acknowledge it and know its a part of me?? I guess?? I dont know. I feel like everything I saw must end with a question mark, regardless of how fucking sure and confident I know of it Yk? And the only thing that can end with a period, is I dont Know. Those spefific words. Lets see.. I dont know, I was gonna write some boring ass shit about not being able to do shit anymore but thats not true. I can get up. I can cook. I can clean. Breathe. Blink. Stare. Talk. Think. Like I can do all those little things. But they aren enough. Its crazy to think. I mean it really is, Van Gough fucking cut off his ear because he thought too much or wanted the voices to stop?? I dont know. This sucks. I hate feeling like this. This was supposed to be mine. Force Fed. thats all thats going through my head rn. Force Fed. thats all life is, which doesnt make sense either but yk. it is force fed, if you really think about it. Like cause if you dont force feed something to someone or force feed yourself something or someone then how will you learn. How will you grow. How will you change. Exactly. I wish i was innocent again. Not have done any of the crazy shit in my life yk? I dont know why im like this but I am and thats okay? But it weirdly isnt. I should change. I feel like I should and its something that like feels right about shit. I dont know. Maybe. Who knows? I steal and take. Nothings my own. Nothing. Ugh. Even I feel like my body isnt my own, if that makes sense. I think a lot and sometimes I dont. I dont really mind this but then again maybe I do? but its become so normalized that like its just that yk? maybe thats what THIS is. I dont know why I like marks. They dont even have to be sexual in a way. They can just be there and like yk? Im convincing myself that it shows im real but fuck man. Thats been my favorite word lately, Fuck Man. That. That exactly. That could be what I use to describe what THIS is. I think about saying a lot of things to him, which honestly feels silly. Because Im confident enough to say other kinda shit but like the stuff I wanna say??? No idea. To be honest. It just doesnt come out. Songs I love dont feel like songs anymore and I dont know how to shut up anymore or how to speak properly or communicate and I expect this and that. What ever happened to the kill yourself typa shit? No idea. I should be more mindful of things. Especially with myself. I hate people. But I also love people but like whos who and whats what. No Idea. THIS doesnt even make sense. One time I said, I miss you in ways i cannot articulate. i dream of you in colors that do not exist. I said that. Fuck man. No reflection. No thought. No nothing. Just Fuck Man. The days are blending together, which is true but also not true? I dont know.

I ONCE LOVED A CANNIBAL

AFTER YOU, I WAS A DANK SLAUGHTERHOUSE.

Strips of flesh hung from iron hooks in meat chandeliers. The ruined remains glittered in the darkness like a mouthful of gold teeth. My cleaved soul dreamed to the whir of maggots sucking through the cement. I was a stinking room of self-hate and old blood, and it took me years before I stopped clawing at my own throat like an animal at the stench of good love. I still rupture into this ugly, keening cry when someone

cracks a window to

let new light in.

No idea who wrote that, not me. and I wanna make that clear for some reason. Wish I did but nope. Saw it, Thought It was Nice, wrote it down and moved on. Here we are. THIS really is it.

been thinking about anticipatory grief lately. i love you so much that i know losing you will devastate me. i havent lost you yet but i already miss you. we still have time, but it wont be enough. i think about what i would say at your funeral, and say some of it to you now cause i need you to know how loved you are before you go. you will go where i cannot follow, but you will never really leave me. it wont make it hurt less but it is a part of healing somehow.

to be honest, I have no idea WHAT to say or WHAT to do anymore but that wasnt mine either. Its beautiful. Or atleast thats what I think. I saw something about cigarette psychology and It was pretty. Endearing almost. I guess? in a way, it was. reminds me a lot of my dad. Which is intresting to say. I feel bad. And guilty and Sad. About it. Which I feel like I shouldnt but I do, and i dont know why or how I feel about admiting it. I mean i know I can say it and I can admit it but like. Its different yk?

Such a waste of a girl, such

rumination.

I am obsessive. I contain nothing but replay.

I am blood and blood and replay. I am please dont go.

I feel like if i just put random quotes and such Itll make THIS and myself feel not so alone and whanot yk? and i might like THIS a lot better when Im finished. Going back to the Cigarette Psychology. It had said

The way a man holds his cigarette - along with such personal gestures as how he walks, sits, his nervous habits and hand motions - is a sure sign of his inner self. So says a Los Angeles psychoanalyst, Dr. William Neutra, who looks for the paitients hold their cigarettes. It helps expose - or at least give a clue to - many otherwise hard-to-dig-up facts needed in treating the paitent succesfully. On these two pages are seven examples of what Dr. Neutra has found out about men; also, two examples of ways women hold cigarettes. Curiously enough, however, the cigarette psychology doesnt work on women. According to Dr. Neutra women are so affected naturally in their regular posture that theyre more often than not too conscious of how they hold a cigarette, and therefore useless as subjects for this experiment.

Honestly. No idea why I spent the time typing that. But i did so. Woo hoo!!! Now. That. Is what I call yapping. 4:31 am

love bombing & sexual validationa structureless poem i wrote in the bath

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 11:41:35 UTC

when the bath waters cold

i dont slowly add warm

when my shallow hearts empty

i wont slowly add love

when my body starts to shiver,

ill add boiling water on full force

when my hands start to yearn,

ill add loving sex on the first date

when i get the tub too hot

ill turn the nozzle back right, all the way cold

when he says he loves me back

ill block his number, all the way cold

i dont slowly add warm

i wont slowly add love

& it burns too harsh to cool slowly

home for the school year

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 11:49:23 UTC

i feel melancholy nostalgia on this garage couch, i want to be in the southside house again. i want to be in a new city every night again. I felt like myself out there, unbound. untethered to all the different girls ive been in this bedroom. i feel it under my feet on the carpet & in my palm when i grip the stair railing. this place is not mine anymore, ill bring my favorite blanket when i come to spend the night. & i guess home isnt something tangible for me anymore. home is where my love is & my house is coming together, falling apart, leaving drywall in various cities & seeing asbestos fall from the ceiling of metro cars. a girl from sao paulo stayed for the night to help me lay concrete, a stray cat in nassau helped me screw the lightbulbs in. i reckon home is something that will be an everlasting construction, & it makes me ache to lay in the site that was once complete.

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 11:53:14 UTC

i am still a baby

i am still crying at knee height

pleading to everyone above that i am serious

clenching my fists, grinding my teeth

glimpses of adults laughing at me

this house is big & nothing makes sense

i am small & i am trying to make sense

the feeling never goes away,

i turn 16

Porn.

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 12:29:46 UTC

porn stars could have been movie stars. porn couldve been cinema.

watching others have sex is not inherently mind numbingly vulgar.

when I was 9 i would read boy love manga under the covers.

i felt enthralled, captivated, passionate, erotica.

being able to create an situation in my head where these characters that I admired and held in such high regard. who I watch sing and dance and act and cry and laugh. the handsome face I goggled out on the television was about to engage sexually with me.

the language in this manga was poetry. depicting romance, sensuality, exploring fascination.

the penetration was never the turn on.

the person youd pick to read the about was.

the ability to view sexually, what you love. how taboo. how alluring. you got ridiculed for this fantasization. its parasocial. its weird. its unrealistic. its delusional. certainly more out of touch with reality than the hot single moms who want to fuck near you. its romance novels being the most lucrative genre but never as lucrative as an industry churning out barely legal, school girl, tiny, lesbian teen gets face fucked. porn should have been art porn stars should have been movie stars. porn stars should have been cinema. the patriarchy continues to corrupt all beauty.

This

girldogmillionaire — 2024-01-06 12:40:16 UTC

would you have taken your teeth out to chew my food like me? did you cry on the couch to your father pleading queries. am i hard to love? am i acting very strangely? would you have ripped the door frame off the hinges and made it burn. what i hate in this house or was i in love with myself? never really had much to do with you other than being a vessel to give the love of life i had inside my frail body. maybe thats selfish of me but i tucked a pillow under your neck when you fell asleep upside down so maybe i didnt love you but i always loved the universe and to hurt it was never something ive been capable of. and i guess thats why i let you think im still a sobbing mess.

there was hope in not having a choice

girldogmillionaire — 2024-05-20 05:41:03 UTC

there's refuge in extremities and there's a certain beautiful hope in having no will. I believe it's why childhood is looked back up on so fondly sometimes, you were being told what, and when and who and where and you hated at the time. But then you're turning 16 and you realize that no one really knows how. Why does it feel nicer to hate what you're forced to do? and worse to only kind of like what you've chosen to do? why is it easier to melt down than to sit with it? why was it easier to not call my father and forget about him than it was to hear that he had passed? I think it's because when things are forced upon you, you're subsequently forced to make peace and find joy in them but when things have been chosen by you, you find it harder to make peace in those decisions because if the peace is not instant and the joy is not vividly apparent, the shame becomes impossible. Sometimes I do everything in my day full of question. Sometimes, I miss when I thought my mother knew everything. How jarring it is, when I learned that decisions she made for me were full of question too. No one knows anything.

Proverbs 3:5–6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.

and I will apply it to my life by knowing that I chose to pray God over any circumstances in my life. I might be going through the valley of the shadow of death, yet I praise him and I don't let things in my personal life stop me from praising God.