Hello there Karma,
You're forever a double sided sword. This is why I love you. Please, be a little more gentle to me. I don't think I can take this forever.
I pretend to not let all these things bother me, and don't have the adequate words to express how I feel. I'm so stressed out lately. The two things I bought myself out of luxury have not helped ease my stress too much, only dig me deeper in this financial problem I face.
I'm stuck bouncing between two sides of a court, not knowing what to do with myself. I need a really long walk, and something to help ease the endless loneliness I feel.
Although I know the only way to ease the endless loneliness is to let go of what I use to distract myself from the loneliness. Once I come to terms with who I am by myself, then maybe I can make clearer decisions... Yes, I know I am not going into deep detail. Out of fear that maybe someone may actually read this and be offended. It's saddening that when you want to tell someone out of the honesty of your heart, it might hurt them, or equally as bad, their reaction may hurt you.
Love,
Mnemos.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The Fruit of my Womb
Once I met a boy, who told me he was sincere with each word he spoke. Each time I was near him, I felt a pull. I wanted to be in his embrace from the moment I saw him, long before I met him. How could I have known he was just as confused as I was? I know that I am too much of a kind person for him, despite of how wicked of a person I am. I have too much love for someone, I've given too much to someone I am not with. Yet I am called the whore.
No, you do not understand. I know what kind of creature he is. Still it makes me like him more. From the moment I met him, and we danced with our words, I felt that we were testing what exactly it was that we could do and what we could be. It was a trial and error we both understood we were giving each other. He made me happy for all nine weeks I let him be intimate with me. No, not physical, six of those weeks were purely mental and emotional. Now, maybe I am too sensitive. We've started a new dance. Each time I try to pull away, or attempt to disconnect myself, he does something amazing that pulls me back. We hold hands in this dance, I step out, and he rolls me back into his chest with his arm around my waist. What a beautiful twirl it is.
I know I can never love you, love you freely. You are the epitome of who I wished Liam to be. You showed me who you were, yet I glued myself amongst the others on your back burner. I have no proof that there are others, but they would have no proof that I am an other. Oh, Liam, you came to me at the wrong time. Liam, you could have been the last exception, the only exception to my dastardly ways. You were the exception during five of those nine weeks, because those five weeks were when I told myself I was only yours.
Liam, what a funny name. Sounds like a lamb wet with lime juice. I hope my son, that when I have you, you will not act like a Lamb, but something in between the lion and the lamb. I hope you have the smart and wit that he who almost took your name does. I hope you can be better, and not become sour over your past. I hope to love you and show you there is love that exists in other places, complete, faithful love. Here I am, the hypocrite of this disease. Liam, I won't let you lay to rest, not in my mind.
No, you do not understand. I know what kind of creature he is. Still it makes me like him more. From the moment I met him, and we danced with our words, I felt that we were testing what exactly it was that we could do and what we could be. It was a trial and error we both understood we were giving each other. He made me happy for all nine weeks I let him be intimate with me. No, not physical, six of those weeks were purely mental and emotional. Now, maybe I am too sensitive. We've started a new dance. Each time I try to pull away, or attempt to disconnect myself, he does something amazing that pulls me back. We hold hands in this dance, I step out, and he rolls me back into his chest with his arm around my waist. What a beautiful twirl it is.
I know I can never love you, love you freely. You are the epitome of who I wished Liam to be. You showed me who you were, yet I glued myself amongst the others on your back burner. I have no proof that there are others, but they would have no proof that I am an other. Oh, Liam, you came to me at the wrong time. Liam, you could have been the last exception, the only exception to my dastardly ways. You were the exception during five of those nine weeks, because those five weeks were when I told myself I was only yours.
Liam, what a funny name. Sounds like a lamb wet with lime juice. I hope my son, that when I have you, you will not act like a Lamb, but something in between the lion and the lamb. I hope you have the smart and wit that he who almost took your name does. I hope you can be better, and not become sour over your past. I hope to love you and show you there is love that exists in other places, complete, faithful love. Here I am, the hypocrite of this disease. Liam, I won't let you lay to rest, not in my mind.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Slave
He cut me down with simple words
The kind romantics wished they heard
I can't deny that they had worked
In his trance I had been lured
He held me close in every moment
Caressed me although I were stolen
Begged me to hold on being innocent
Yet laid me on that bed-like golden
Then I had seen another side of him
That demon kept hidden within
His eyes crept all along my body
With an irresistible look of wanting
And that's when I had given in
Knowing I was a poor victim of his sin,
He pressed himself against my skin,
I couldn't help but let him win
Yet I enjoyed the things he did
Wondered if later I'd regret,
Held onto him as his body cooled
And became a slave to his evil deeds
The kind romantics wished they heard
I can't deny that they had worked
In his trance I had been lured
He held me close in every moment
Caressed me although I were stolen
Begged me to hold on being innocent
Yet laid me on that bed-like golden
Then I had seen another side of him
That demon kept hidden within
His eyes crept all along my body
With an irresistible look of wanting
And that's when I had given in
Knowing I was a poor victim of his sin,
He pressed himself against my skin,
I couldn't help but let him win
Yet I enjoyed the things he did
Wondered if later I'd regret,
Held onto him as his body cooled
And became a slave to his evil deeds
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Inside Her Dreams
Often I've thought that my imagination would get the best of me. I create relationships and friendships in my mind that won't happen or can't happen, just to feel the joy of the moment. How I have wished since before I was in high school for some of these things to happen to me. Friend sleepovers, friends in my house in general, a boy who was devoted to me the way I've seen my friends boyfriends see them to take them to school and pick them up. Everything was forced when it did happen. I can't say anything bad or traumatic happened to me, but when things did happen, they were too little too late. I feel as though my life was full of drama, but maybe because I wasn't happy. I was too entrapped of the ideas and wishes that I had in my head, that my real life was horrible, lonely, and boring in comparison. I needed to shake things up and make things interesting, whether I ruined my life or other people's lives. I lived so jealous of what these other girls had- they really were girls, while I was something in between girl and boy, not completely feminine, and not masculine either. No one told me I was pretty, and when they did, it sounded like the barks and calls of dogs. My few friends from high school moved away, and my friends outside, I barely see. I told someone who I liked once, "I'm not your friend anymore, but that doesn't mean I won't run your memory dry with stories in my mind. I'll let my mind wander until I'm over you." Romance was always just so scary. Not like I was given the liberty to experience it. Friendship, my mother always told me, was overrated. My boyfriend, can be great, but the idea of romance was burned off of his soul years ago, if it was ever there. So why do I feel like I missed out on something? Why am I so lonely? Maybe my dreams are just the thing that keeps me down from being happy. I've always been the person to see the glass half empty.
Mirror
And the girl who told her reflection to never give up
Gives in
Her soul will keep chipping away until it's just a particle of dust
Floating
"I won the battle I've fought for years now
But that did not end without casualties"
Yet the stranger tells her he sees in every footstep the pains of sorrow
She keeps on believing in one thing to follow her deity
The patter of her feet stop in front of the mirror
As she gazes one more time
Tearing, confused, and eager
Clawing against her own womanly arms
She kisses the mirror and blankets it with black satin
Yet her own mind wants to leave her body
She doesn't want her story untold.
Gives in
Her soul will keep chipping away until it's just a particle of dust
Floating
"I won the battle I've fought for years now
But that did not end without casualties"
Yet the stranger tells her he sees in every footstep the pains of sorrow
She keeps on believing in one thing to follow her deity
The patter of her feet stop in front of the mirror
As she gazes one more time
Tearing, confused, and eager
Clawing against her own womanly arms
She kisses the mirror and blankets it with black satin
Yet her own mind wants to leave her body
She doesn't want her story untold.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Affection
How does it feel to be loved from a distance?
I'm sending you messages corked tightly in a bottle
Long away from the other sides of the seas
With the pleas of a thousand beggars asking for their fix
Oh well, I think I stated my point already.
I'm sending you messages corked tightly in a bottle
Long away from the other sides of the seas
With the pleas of a thousand beggars asking for their fix
Oh well, I think I stated my point already.
Friday, August 6, 2010
I know what it is...
To be lonely.
Today at the dentist I met this boy that was doing my teeth x-rays. He was just my age but he worked as that, his excuse was "I'm just a beast!" All we had in common was our age, but he kept talking and talking to me about how he has been here for about 4 weeks and talked about how boring it was in his home down south in some city I don't know. He told me that his family came up and they were there around 5:30 am, but i didn't have a story to tell him. I felt like I was omitting myself from the conversation. Instead I laughed, and smiled, but had no smart retorts. I was his friend for the twenty minutes we spoke, and I felt a little bad almost that I couldn't be his friend longer, although I am very skeptical of having friends, or giving people my phone number.
Later on at work I met an old woman who was buying 14.99 dollar sandals. she tried to joke with me about how it would be amazing if someone just came up to her one day in the winter inviting her to a cruise. She repeated it two or three times, with only a smile for applause.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that my heart sank for how mean I was being to her. I know how it feels to try to talk to a stranger when all you are doing is being kind or trying to pass the time in this lonely world with a smile or a quick companionship. Why was I being so cold hearted? These two people just needed someone to talk to, and feel friendly, the balloon blowing from your heart when you know that you have made someone happy and it makes you genuinely happy. Maybe the fact that despite all of the attempts of friendship and kindness there is always that anger and hatred in the world that grows inside of people over time, until it is a large emmassed oak in the forest of humans in the world.
Today at the dentist I met this boy that was doing my teeth x-rays. He was just my age but he worked as that, his excuse was "I'm just a beast!" All we had in common was our age, but he kept talking and talking to me about how he has been here for about 4 weeks and talked about how boring it was in his home down south in some city I don't know. He told me that his family came up and they were there around 5:30 am, but i didn't have a story to tell him. I felt like I was omitting myself from the conversation. Instead I laughed, and smiled, but had no smart retorts. I was his friend for the twenty minutes we spoke, and I felt a little bad almost that I couldn't be his friend longer, although I am very skeptical of having friends, or giving people my phone number.
Later on at work I met an old woman who was buying 14.99 dollar sandals. she tried to joke with me about how it would be amazing if someone just came up to her one day in the winter inviting her to a cruise. She repeated it two or three times, with only a smile for applause.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that my heart sank for how mean I was being to her. I know how it feels to try to talk to a stranger when all you are doing is being kind or trying to pass the time in this lonely world with a smile or a quick companionship. Why was I being so cold hearted? These two people just needed someone to talk to, and feel friendly, the balloon blowing from your heart when you know that you have made someone happy and it makes you genuinely happy. Maybe the fact that despite all of the attempts of friendship and kindness there is always that anger and hatred in the world that grows inside of people over time, until it is a large emmassed oak in the forest of humans in the world.
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