Not Good Enough - Blog Posts

The deep painful introspective looks in the mirror at myself, have the same weight as someone's judgmental take on me, as they pass by with their first impressions as they judge either how I look, or how they chose to see me.

Either way it's as soothing to my soul as standing in one spot, barefoot on hot blacktop as the sun beats down upon it.

Maybe I never get to put away the knife, or better yet forget where I laid it. I'd settle for wiping it off on my sleeve and putting it in its sheath.

The untrusting darkness in me, combined with the auras that decide to pass by instead create the need to clench it so hard in my hand my knuckles turn white.

Fractured thoughts converge, tinting my field of vision around me.

It's not fear, but weariness.

I rather would choose the darkness or at least the shadows than to be laid bare in the unforgiving sun.

To bathe in the moonlight is to heal, to weather my skin to handle the torment of my waiting demons.

I see the silence in their touch, I hear the cold embrace against my skin.

At least their companionship is steady, the cuts, bruises, the crimson trail of thoughts they plant is expected.

I don't embrace them, but I've learned to depend on them for at least a normalicy in my life.

Without my anxiety, my demons that remind me in my sleep not to ware dream of a fairy tale life, I'd be tempted to trust those around me.

Instead I live looking for patterns... What do they want?what do they seek from me? What can I do for them?

Once they take a look at my face, or my intense soul the majority show themselves as weak, selective, callus in how they change, turn, ignore, block, or disappear.

Trust....

What the fuck is that anyway?

Unconditional acceptance... Yeah ok.. Now that's a beautiful fantasy.

I would rather be labeled too intense, or untrusting, I would rather always hold my knife and count on one hand those that may actually give a fuck about me, then to live like the lemmings that think popularity in numbers is love, or that kind words aren't laced with dark intentions.

Hurt ; a poem by me

i tore myself apart, trying to give you the whole world. and when i returned - bloodied, exhausted and proud - somehow, for you it still wasn't enough.

-a.m. {will i ever be?}

Not Good Enough

Hey, that's not good enough

Is anything ever good enough

For you?

Well I'm determined to stay tough

Anything I have with you is brutal

Why must you be brutal?

I'm never good enough

You throw people away if they happen to be the opposite of useful

Everyone has a heart

Do you have a heart?

Yours only beats

Oh where to start...

You said you would still love

Why do you pretend to love?

Pretending isn't what a heart does

I am the bothered, dead, dove

You have broken my innocent wings

Why do you inflict pain on my wings?

Then you cut me off with something hurtful

Let me show you what my misspent time with you brings

Then you bring me down

Why do you like to bring me down

Big bully?

You like to stand behind me when I'm in a hospital gown

Your creep is showing

Why do you let it show?

It's wrong

You'll never know

Hey, you have to be more helpful than that

Than that?

Than what?

Well maybe you've gotten too lazy and fat!

"You can contribute here you know"

Do you think that I don't know?

I am only giving you what you deserve

You always have been my foe

Thank goodness I was here because you wouldn't have answered

How do you know that I wouldn't have answered?

You don't know the future, stop assuming

I will never stop dancing because I am a dancer

Hey you, I never see you anymore

How come you don't see me anymore?

Huh. I couldn't imagine why

I'm glad I have finally closed that door

I'm glad I have finally managed to get your foot out of the door

I need to get some locks for the door

A chair just isn't good enough for me

Because you are a persistent, controlling Leo

You make me feel bad about stuff

Not just any ol' stuff

You make me feel handcuffed to a wall

That you come back to just to demean me

Would you be brave enough to do that?

Holding in your words, never would you think about that

I would do whatever I needed to do if I had to

Because I understand the meaning of the words, ya gotta do what ya gotta do

“It’s so fucking painful, the thought of them together. I have never been a possessive person but the idea of him being with her just makes me feel a kind of pain I haven’t felt before.”

— why her and not me

I’m sorry...

I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, I’m sorry we were toxic, I’m sorry you fell for me, I’m sorry I was not what you needed, I’m sorry I’m such a piece of shit, I’m sorry I’m abusive, I’m sorry I made you unhappy, I’m sorry you loved me, I’m sorry you thought I was ever something good, I’m sorry I loved you okay im just so fucking sorry i still love you...