Your tangled dream

Sometimes you wake up in the morning and you don't know who you are.

You move without a purpose,
And your voice sounds like a curse.

The people around you they can't seem to feel
That there's something about you that just isn't real.

You are a rag doll,
you are a string of dreams.

You look so good in your overalls,
So pretty when you bleed.

You are my music,
the singing in my head.

You are the screeching of tyres
from the car crashing into my flat

You are my nightmare,
the dead body hanging from my treehouse.

And You're my sadistic, beautiful tangled dream.

Sorry.

I'm sorry.

I would really like to be without you
even though it would be as torturous as digging my organs inside out.

I wish you needed me more than I needed you,
then I wouldn't be so miserable trying to feel if you bothered about me at all.

Sometimes I don't know if I'm subconsciously trying to test if you will do fine without me.
And it will prick me to know that if I left you, you'd just find someone to replace me,
like how I replaced the others before me.

I find life is a competition for me to just be better than the ones before although I'm not but I pretend to be so you would think I am and sometimes I get so tired of pretending I become outrageously unreasonable and I cant find a reason to explain myself other than I love you so much which makes no sense to me because I hate you for being able to be so cruel to me and yet fall asleep.

So I don't want to need you anymore unless you're willing to love me and tolerate me and not ever shout at me because you know I am afraid to lose you but you are not afraid to lose me so it makes it unfair to be with you sometimes.

Sometimes I want to hurt myself so I can see if you are worried about me because when I'm emotionally upset you do not give a damn about me. And sometimes i wish I would die so you would finally cry over me, but I cannot stand the thought of you getting over me eventually so I don't wish that anymore.

I wish we could go back to when our relationship was not stable and I did not belong to you. Because at least then you'd try harder to make me yours. And you would not get angry with me for needing you too much because you haven't got sick of me yet. And I wish everyday was the first day we met so you would ask me if I'm okay if I cry, or if i wanted to lean on you, you wouldn't get annoyed with me.

And if I cant make things the way i want them to be, I do not want to be with you even though it hurts me. But you hurt me more than it hurts not being with you. So I am sorry for being so unreasonable and not turn out to be who you thought I was. So maybe then you would think twice that Im not the one for you and that I am also suicidal and crazy like Anna. I'm sorry.

Im also sorry you are the only one I have broken up with. I don't have a reason for that but it might be because you never want to break up with me and that seems like the only way that would affect you but then again i don't think you are affected anymore because now you really do not mind breaking up with me because I'm young and stupid and immature and I frustrate you too much.

Im sorry.

If this matters.

Hello stranger, I don't know if I see you when I see you.
I recognise your shell but not your soul.
Hello stranger, I would say I miss you.
But Im selfish because I don't know if you feel the same.

Once, I knew you, it was one of the best times of our lives.
Once, we said it would last us a lifetime.

I would describe the moments we spent as vividly as I can,
But it is hard to recall what seems lost and far away.

Do you remember us?
Are our familiar, old faces not rich enough for your colourful life?
Do we stay here and hope for you to return only when others drift away?

I'd like to be patient and understanding;
I've tried it once, and maybe once too many times.
What is futile I will not trouble myself to do again.

I don't know if this pricks,
But I have placed a void where you used to be.
Your presence (or not) will be a neutral event.

This is for you if you remember we exist.
I don't know why I spent time writing this.
I don't know if it is because you mean a lot to me,
or are no longer going to be anything to me.

I guess it is up to you to decide.
I just don't know if I am going to be here then.

My kinda perfect

I've been typing and deleting whatever I've written for the past 15 minutes.

I guess we can't really describe perfectness because it hardly ever is the same with different people, but its just there in the little things, somewhat like the cool morning breeze and breakfast in bed. It is heard in the comfort of silence, seen in the peacefulness of sleep and felt in everything but emptiness. Every time I say I love you, I actually mean Thank you for loving me. If it wasn't annoying, I would tell you I love you every time you hold my hand, kiss me, or even get angry with me just because you were concerned about me.

Sometimes it feels unjust shit has to happen to you. Because you're such a good person and I never understood why you would ever need to be punished for anything. Sometimes when shit happens to me, I always feel it's retribution for something bad I've done. But I can't think of any reason why The Person Up There has to do this to you. Sometimes I feel like I'm your jinx.

You held me and stayed strong for me and looked on the bright side for me. I don't know if you break down inside and I cannot be there for you because I'm busy being pessimistic and you are focussed on making it alright for me.

So Thank you for loving me again.

I remember how you reminded me at least 5 times in 6 days that there is a hole in the grass when we walked to our chalet. A part of me wanted to tell you, I know you told me before, or I can see. But I just wanted to smile to myself every time you repeated yourself because you seem so obsessively concerned about me.

Thank you for only venting your anger only in words or on objects, and for subconsciously or instinctively needing or wanting me around even when you're not really in the right state of mind, and for pulling my heavy luggage without grumbling, and for always letting me take the inner seats in buses.


And these are how you are my kinda perfect.