Hey. I'm sorry I haven't been active lately. It's probably actually not that important, but I feel bad whenever I'm gone for a while. You guys are really important to me, and I always feel horrible when I leave because when I don't get on here and post stuff or do anything I don't get to interact with you all.
But, on to the big stuff, I don't want to waste too much of your time. How are you doing? I hope you're doing alright, if you're not, I have a million hugs for you. And if you are, I still have a million hugs for you. (If you're a hug person. I can do handshakes, high fives, affectionate shoulder pats, and other stuff too, but I get if you just don't want any type of hug or handshake or anything, I probably sound insanely creepy to start with. I am so sorry if I accidentally creeped you out.)
Anyway, I just hope you're doing okay. And I'd you're not, I know you'll get through it. You're a tough cookie, and I believe that no glass of milk or floor (after a fall) is going to make you crumble or disintegrate.
I love you all <3 (and I'm sorry if this chapter makes no sense)
27 days blanket covered by 22 feelings (?):
1. Blueberry chapstick on burning skin that kisses the clear mountain air.
2. Tye-dye sunglasses never having seemed so colorful as when they were taking pictures with jean jacket and the sun on one of the areas highest peaks.
3. Electric plastic bumper cars driving past ripe poppies on a dirt road.
4. Cozy, joyful puzzles, movies, and a birthday under a shelter of bullets made of rain.
5. A new travel. Fumbling movements with shaky posture, heart pulsing like an undead earthquake. Sound after sound. Name after name. Notes after notes. A final call.
6. Relief and Starbucks. Video games and Goldfish. Thinking that maybe everything will be okay for a little bit. Feeling shaky but with steady feet.
7. Scratch the previous thought. Stress begins to build like a slowly cooking rope around my emotions after not even a day.
8. Kalinakoff and tears. Schubert and fists clenched. Spiritual and anxiousness. Frustration and coming apart like a poorly put together music stand.
9. Cell phone calls. Boyfriends. Sophomores, freshman, and seniors. "Just grab me an apple or something." Alone and out of place. A wheely chair that's missing a wheel.
10. 6 AM showers and an inability to sleep. Tossing and turning frustratedly, yet trying not to wake the room. So very tired.
11. Early. Cards and BS. Earl Grey Tea. Suddenly feeling really okay in an private public.
12. Wondering why there's so much blue hair and wondering how one version of it makes you feel comfortable and another version more on the edge of the verge of a sidewalk.
13. An exploding hostess cupcake one day, Chinese food and hanging out another. Polaroids never seem to properly catch a perfectly feeling scene.
14. Stitch impressions, playing with crutches, airplane jokes, and a kind counselor who wears cat ears and rides a razor scooter everywhere. Tiny memories that describe a lot.
15. It's incredibly hot outside, but the waters always nice and cold. It doesn't feel natural, but it feels normal all the same.
16. Forcefully accepted by a friend group. Never feeling like a real part. Mattress moving and sleepovers. Unable to hold it in anymore, a breakdown occurs.
Crying turns to sobbing. A side hug. Feeling like a problem. The floor is disintegrating beneath you except for a few single particles you still manage to balance on.
17. Trying not to tumble into the open cavern.
18. Going to church with your grandparents on Sunday morning. Not really believing in religion but still showing up with a bucket full of sins, clutching them to your chest instead of releasing them. Yes, you don't belong there but you still don't understand why you can't move your arms.
19. Regret. Deep, aching regret.
20. Painting Flowers while knowing that Words Fail as I Thank God For Every Remembrance Of You.
21. Driving home and listening to music. Drinking orange juice. Having memories wash through your head. Nostalgic emotions come over you like waves. You don't want to go home but don't want to go back, and you know you can't stay.
22. Trying not to focus on a single person, but finding it really hard. Having to pull out of self-pity and depressing emotions to get back to the real world. Somehow you feel better afterwards, though you were reluctant and unwilling do so to begin with.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
