I Wish I Were

I wish were the words written in your book, or at least be a chapter, or a paragraph.  I would even settle for a sentence.  Is this too much to ask for?  Did I do something wrong?  Is what I say and do offending you?  You seem to have made yourself clear, but I don’t know what went wrong.  How did it come to this crossroad?  I don’t remember going down this road and these white lines that pass by in a blurred sight, seem unfamiliar to me. 

I wish I were the rain.  I could fall down upon you and wash away all the dirt that resides still within you.  I could gently seep my way through the layers, I want to know your goodness and learn. 

I wish I were the sun beating down upon your skin, making you wince back with a second thought, to remind you that with your face towards the sun, your shadows will surely fall behind you.

I wish I were your guitar.  Gently caressing over your strings, spilling your everything in a song. God knows we were always meant for a minor fall.

I wish I were your piano.  Calloused fingers know you well, my body aches to be touched like your piano. 

I want to be your lover.

I wish I were the moon.  An ember glow on the coldest night, whispering winds directing the truth.  In the silence of the darkness, only light can come through.

I wish I were the words you use to speak.  But that has gone into oblivion.  What have you’ve become?  What have I become?  What have we’ve become? My dearest friend.  My oldest friend.  Wishing I was, wishing you were.  But it lies in the past, a past that was laid out before we even had met. 

I wish these words would reach to you, but written word can only go so far.  Hold so much meaning. 

I wish I were the words written in your book…

Defeated

The past few weeks I have been an emotional wreck.  I’m riding this rollercoaster and it isn’t giving me the chance to breath, to regain my composure, I have to ride it out.  I feel like I am being pulled in every direction except for my own way.  I’m traveling at an untouchable speed, but everything around me feels slow, it’s almost tormenting. As much as I try to keep it all together I find myself letting it build and build and build.  At one point I will lose control and break down.  But I will not allow that.  I refuse.  I’ll bite my tongue, fight back the tears that have yet to fall, ball up my fist, but I won’t do it.  I won’t, I promise you, you will never see me cry.  My pride is too strong for that and I will not let you know how much this really affects me.

I don’t think you realize how much I take into account what you think about me. 

I don’t think anyone I truly care about realizes that what you guys say means a lot to me.  I take it personally and to heart.  I am human. I have feelings too. I am not just a shell walking around with a vacant stare off into the distance.  What you say and think about me is important to me.  Maybe you were just joking, but it genuinely upset me.  It saddened me and made me think, “Am I really a mean spirited person?” because I never thought I was.  I’m sarcastic and my jokes can be a little sharp, but I never saw myself as mean. And why is it so weird if I am nice?  I thought everything that I have been doing for you has been nothing but nice.  But I am not doing this just to be “nice” I am doing this because I care about you.  You are my friend and this is what friends are  for, help each other, give advice, be a support system or simply just be there for them.  God forbid that I want my friends to be happy.  I feel like I go out my way to make you people happy and never once do I worry about my own happiness, which will not happen any time soon.  I will always put myself last on my list on who to make happy.

My frustration has turned into sadness, and I feel like giving up.  I try and try and try and try to make things better, to give people a solution, but you never listen, no one ever does.  What do I know anyway?  I’m just spewing shit around, I have a voice, but I am constantly fighting to be heard.  “Speak up!” you say, well fuck you, why don’t you try to listen and not just hear some buzzing in the background.  Why do I even bother anymore?  Maybe it’s that little voice inside of my head telling me that I am better than what I perceive myself as, and  even if I don’t get through to someone, I at least put in my best effort to help.  But, sometimes I don’t listen to that voice that tells me I am better than what I see.  I don’t believe it. I have spent all my life convincing myself that I am not pretty, let alone beautiful.  I feel like I have been put next to people so they look better in comparison.  The designated funny fat friend and this is all I was good for.  That is all I am good for.  Nothing else seems to be of importance.  People look over aspects of me that I think describe me better than just my humor.  Hopelessness and loneliness combine into one.  I might be screaming in a room full of people, but no would look up or even notice.  So, I will continue to sit in my silence and observe.

Simply, just existing. 

Anew

If all the stars were to fall

Would this earthly place be so easily consumed in its entirety?

With the licking flames and burning embers set aglow,

The sight would be unworldly

The sound would create a cacophonous melody of chaos

A beautiful destruction

A perfect end to only create anew

"Boyfriend/Girlfriend"

When a girl and a guy are good friends it seems to always be assumed that inevitably the two have romantic journey because its obviously destined, right? 

Um, no.  This whole thought process couldn't be more wrong or more irritating, at least for me, it is.  Why can't a guy and a girl just be good friends?  Why does it always have to equate to something more than just friendship?  Why can't two people of the opposite sex not have an attraction towards the other?  Did we not consider this?  Do we create a little fairytale fantasy in our heads and only see what we want to see? 

Grow up, please.  Yes, life is all based on forming and maintaining relationships, but relationship does not equal sex.  Sex. Sex. Sex.  God, why is sex so important?  What does it matter if a person is a virgin or wants to whore themselves around?  Why should we pry into their business?  If they want to jump onto anything that breathes, who are we to stop them?  What makes sex so special?  I mean think about it, almost every living breathing being can do it.  Hell, snails can do it.

You want to know what is important?  Love.  No Love does not = sex, and believe me humans do NEED more than just physical contact! People who think otherwise are ignorant and are incessantly horny.  Also, before you go off assuming that it must be a guy who constantly thinks about sex.  That they are the only ones who get horny.  Yes, ladies I'm talking about us.  Do not deny this little fact.  Humans are sexual beings and it's instinctual act (don't let that get to your head though), it's something that comes natural to us.  Simple fact.  Deal with it.

Back to the importance of love.  When need so much more than what was explained in the above paragraph.  Compassion, acceptance, belongingness, simply just feeling like we matter, but no we get all wrapped up in sex, no pun intended, sex is everywhere.  We gain a childish school girl giggle when words like: penis, vagina, scrotum, masturbate, and ext, come up (once again, no pun intended).  Why?  It's apart of our human anatomy and masturbation is completely healthy to do. 

I just believe that there is more to life than stripping down, grinding, moaning and humping.  Let's open our eyes to the world and not our legs.

-Jaded_Lotus