I want to be loved. I want to be so loved that it breaks through whatever walls I've put up. Maybe I'm asking for too much. Maybe I am too much; too inconsistent, too needy, too unreliable, too unstable. Maybe it's hard to really truly love me because who even am I? Maybe the love i want doesn't exist in anyone but myself. That's a problem for me because I think I hate myself. I dont push myself, I don't clean up when I really need to, I don't show up to classes when I need to. I dont make the calls I need to or do the things that need to be done. I let myself fall every day. I make the wrong choice every day. I dont deserve the love I'm asking for if I can't even give it to myself. Life wastes away, and ohmygod, I care so much that I've wasted my life trying to get out of this hole. But I've dug so deep, and it's raining again. I can't climb out when the rain turns the dry dirt to slick, wet mud. Making me dirty and unseen in the night. Love isn't coming to recuse me. I'm not even coming to rescue me.
YOU ARE READING
Paracosm
Poetry{PAR-uh-kahz-um} (n.) A detailed imaginary world created in the mind, often as a means of escape or solace, filled with its own people, places, and stories. | this book is quite the contrast. I shared my thoughts a really long time ago. I'll start...
