sadly, I’ll live.

i just want to be happy

do i matter?

how low should i sink until you could finally see how miserable of a person this girl is?

you knew me long enough – in my opinion – to understand me yet you still don’t. you’re the longest person I’ve spent my life with yet you understand so little about me.

what is the meaning of the texts you say to me? the “okay”s, the “of course”s. how much of those “okay”s are just you being tired of the things i tell you? how much of those “of course”s are just you not getting anything what i said but just want to keep the conversation going?

what have you asked today about me that is an effort of you wanting to understand me more? none.

please, no more nightmares

when i was a kid i had a lot of trouble with sleep. some days dad would play his ‘goodnight music’ too loud, or play his saxophone until it’s almost midnight. other times it was mom’s sharp words, her saying im not good enough, not strong enough, things i got accustomed with as i grew up. some days are difficult (like every other days), filled with bullies and breakups. some days are filled with harsh realities – like that dick ex boyfriend you dated for no reason. like the fact that you just lost something you could never get back. some days are just, hard.

and i wanted to sleep.

i wanted to, badly.

so I’d wet my bed, alone, in hopes that dad would hear and stop playing sax. in hopes that i could cry louder than my mom’s voices. in hopes that i could accept reality easier as i make room for it in my previously tear-filled heart.

my friend Nightmare likes to visit often. he loves wet pillows.

i dont have friends to cry with, i guess I’ll cry with him instead.