Ready To Explode

Isn't It Funny?

I'm kind of pissed of and angsty and annoyed. So I wrote this (very shitty) poem? Blurb? Rant? I dunno, call it what you wish and thank you for reading it. It's kinda personal, but not? I dunno. So yeah. 

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Isn't it funny,

That the people who caused you the most pain are the ones always reeling in your mind? Dancing along the hills of your thoughts as a constant reminder of their marks on you, as if you had ever forgotten the everlasting sting they left behind on your skin, the bitter taste on the buds of your tongue and the burning sensation of tears in your eyes.

Isn't it funny,

That the ones who said they'd stay forever were the fastest ones to let go? That the second they could get loose from the so called 'rope' holding them down with you, they ran faster and faster until you lost sight of them. Until they were finally free of your oh so 'toxic presence'.

Isn't it funny,

How the people who tell you to embrace your imperfections are the ones who choose them as the most crude and unloveable things that add up in the making of you? That the moment they saw the flawed cracks of your already shattering mirror, they saw no point to continuing viewing the reflection you offered to present. The ones who casted you aside like some retched parasite they could no longer stand to associate themselves with.

Isn't it funny,

That the ones who offer you the most help they can give are always the ones to deem you unappreciative and disrespectful for not acknowledging their so called 'grace', despite your repeated pleas to be left alone? The ones who refuse to understand the meaning of 'space' but instantly snap when it is not given to them. The ones who ignore exactly what it is you want and need to feel better and follow the path of 'This is what I think is best for them'.

Isn't it funny,

The ones who always complain you 'never talk to them' or 'why don't you ever tell me anything' are always the ones whom you find the hardest to truly trust? Because they're the ones you know do not understand the meaning of the words 'if I tell you, you can't tell anyone'. Because the moment you know you open up your heart to them, there is always an extra pair of ears who hear your secrets, despite the assured, yet empty promises of 'I won't tell anyone. I swear.'

Isn't it funny,

How we are always told to talk to someone when we are feeling alone, or sad or angry, but the second we do those emotions are completely thrown to the side and the endless gimmicks of 'it could be worse' and 'you're so unappreciative' are regurgitated at you like wildfire. Who cares about how you feel, right? Other people lives suck worse, your 'petty problems' don't matter right not. As long as you're alive, you've got nothing to be sad about. 

Isn't it funny,

How easy people can manipulate a story to make themselves seem like the victims for victors of the highly tall tale? How simple and quick they can enhance a fact that better suits their reputation, not caring if it squanders yours? Because as long as they're seen as the wounded, the truth shouldn't matter. 

Isn't it funny,

That someone can be so nice to you, and make you feel so happy and mushy inside. They can make you feel on cloud nine, like you're on top of the world, only to be the cause for you to come crashing down back to earth. They can be the reason for your sadness and your pain, by one stupid action. An action as simple as not saying hi to you everyday, or just not sitting next to you anymore. The feeling of their lost presences next to you hangs over you like a giant black hole, ready to engulf you into a feeling of nothingness.    

Isn't that just so funny?