GREEN with…envy…no…insanity.

GRRRRR! So that arse-hole called only once. And when he did and I didn’t answer, he was like, you must be the stupidest person ever! Then the message went on…too bad stupidest isn’t a word. Or is it? Whatever…I don’t feel like my plan to play him worked because he seems as though he was trying to BS me again. I don’t know, but I know that I am over it.

It’s like no matter what I do or what boy I choose, they always seem to have something wrong with them. I don’t know…I am starting to think that it is me. I am the common denomentator between all of them. I don’t want to take the blame for THEIR actions though. I WILL however take the blame for picking them and giving them chance after chance. I constantly hurt myself to get rid of the hurt of loneliness. This is a piece I wrote about that cycle of me hurting myself…

That someone is myself…

My heart insists it was made for more than pumping blood,
and my
spirit strengthens under the word of the Lord…
but I am too
weak to lay down and profess Faith,
too proud of my laying down with
carnal attempts at perfection.
If practice makes perfect, then
salvation is an offbrand.
My flesh demands cleansing from all the crust of lust cakes into its crevices.

Only I can bathe in 7 seas and still thirst for clarity…
On soul searches, I hunt and I’ve unearthed a silen
conscience crammed with dirt.
I washed it clean until
spotless…clutched hope and stranded hurt.
Only I can fuel my frustrations because I don’t have the patience to deal with myself.
Too afraid to admit sins to God, mistaking his
patience for neglect.
Was I trying at all when I
begged for seduction?

I allowed my body to be aloof, corrupt…
Error manifested when conclusions were rushed.
I just wanted to feel this thing called love, but
All I felt were various THRUSTS.
That left their
marks like graffiti…tagged on my walls.

My soul ghostwrites because I remain unspoken…
I stretch lies to cover the scars on my conscience
No I didn’t confuse lust for love…I KNOW the difference.
I assumed
tusseling in the sheets would confirm what isn’t.
I continued to be a wet dream…

Letting them in to taste Heaven…
Walk along my streets paved in gold.
Pluck the
fruit from my branches.
Always ok with giving 2nd, 3rd and 4th chances.
Eyes closed, legs open…
What did I expect to find behind shut eyes?

Groping around in the dark,
I wrap my hands around what I think is a heart, it thump thumps.
And I slide it inside, maybe he’ll be able to find mine.
Oyt and in turns into a cycle….
Cycle of hurt catalyzed by
loneliness
Filling it with
worthless men
Hurting myself to get rid of the hurt….

Like…being single/alone is the worst thing in the world, so I can’t let that happen. I need to realize that it isn’t the worst thing in the world and I should learn how to love and enjoy MYSELF. Until then I will be going around in the same cycle. You know the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I am INSANE. I am. I don’t know how I feel about that. o_O admit me in to the psych ward, dress me in a straight jacket, and give me my meds please.

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