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littlemissinvisble

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Fell off the face of the earth

Kind of feels like I’m not really sure what to write on here anymore. That wouldn’t be necessarily wrong, but it’s kind of disappointing. I sort of fell off the face of the earth and just stopped writing at all. My eyes have been so incredibly watery all damn day long it’s ridiculous. It just hurts. That’s not really what hurts though. What really hurts is that I try so hard, but I’ll never be good enough for anyone. That’s ridiculous.

-You dress up for other people, but not for me. (Yes, because I feel comfortable around you. I don’t feel like I have to impress you, but I guess I was wrong.)

-You don’t get to tell me what to do. (Ok, but yet you get to tell me what to do?)

You confuse me so much, but I try my best to decipher you. It’s like I am never allowed to be down when I’m with you which is stupid because everyone has a bad day once in awhile, but you expect me to always have a perfect mood. I’m not allowed to leave if I’m unhappy with the situation either or at least I don’t feel like I can. I owe a lot to you. I don’t want to leave you behind ever so I’ll do what it takes to make you stick around. Whether that means faking happiness or doing everything you tell me to.

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The last time I posted was 3 months ago.

The last time I wrote a post was nearly 3 months ago needless to say it’s been awhile. Ok, maybe more than awhile. I guess I’ve just been avoiding thinking so much about everything. I’ve been too busy working and with school to write whether it be on this site or just for fun. I haven’t written any poetry or short stories in awhile. I’ve been ultra x10000000000000000000000000000000000000 focused on getting through senior year and it’s only the end of the first quarter coming up, but I think I’ve really taken the time to academically get myself into a good place.

Unfortunately, a lot has happened I’ve shut myself off from people. My older brother passed away nearly a month ago now and it hurts that he’s gone, but what hurts even worse is seeing everyone else in so much pain while all I feel is numbness. I felt nothing regarding his passing until I saw his body in the casket. It looked nothing like him. It looked like a wax figurine from one of those creepy museums. Reality kicked me in the stomach and I couldn’t breathe as I looked at his cold dead body. It wasn’t the brother I used to know it was just the fragments he left behind of himself. It was just a sad excuse of closure he left for us . The last time I had talked to him had been christmas. He seemed fine, but then I came to the conclusion that I am just like him. I bottle everything inside me until I burst and it’s so much agony that I don’t want to live anymore, but I keep smiling because I feel guilty for feeling the way that I do when things are “fine.” None of my attempts worked. When I was in the hospital I felt ashamed and embarrassed to even be in inpatient with all these other suicidal teenagers. I felt embarrassed of my suicidal ideation even though it wasn’t my fault that my brain is completely and utterly screwed up beyond repair. I wonder if that’s what he felt like too. I wonder if he felt that it was all his fault that he couldn’t be happy despite so much good in his life. What’s the point of living in a world where everyone is self diagnosing themselves?

This is just a rant. My inner thoughts…I’m not currently this depressed and things have been looking up for me, but this still weighs heavily on my mind. I know it’s morbid to read, but that’s just how things are right now. They are morbid and dissatisfactory.

-xoxo feel the waves man be one with the waves.

Title 

Trembling at 5:54 a.m.                               Led Zeppelin a mere whisper.                Static. 

Senior year? Adult? I’m not ready…it’s too much. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m not me anymore. 

Manic pixie dream girl. 

A bubbly cinematic stock character Under the paint of carousel lights    A perfect impresssionistic painting A beautiful face, but not in the way one would think so. 

Pointillism marks encompass your entire being darling.                             Glass jagged it imprinted all the lies you told yourself into your skin.           You were a manic pixie dream girl, but didn’t serve any purpose in his plotline. 

Everything. 

This darling is all the fucked up things you ever said to me over the course of our 6 months together. I’m just jotting them down real quick to release them from my thoughts. 
Here: 

“I wish I had never taken you to meet my mom.” 

“What future? You don’t have one.” 

“Don’t spread your diseases to other people.” 

“Just do your work a favor and end yourself you’re worthless.” 

“I love you.” 

“Oh are you just going to shut down.” 

“How typical the silent treatment.” 

“You suck at doggy style.” 

“Well aren’t you a joy to be around in the morning.” 

“We’re never going out to eat again you can’t even fucking finish your food.” 

To be continued whenever you manipulate me into staying with you. I know the game…act nice until I fall back into the trap. 

Zach. 

Zach. 

You sat across from me with your coffee mug 

Black with no sugar. 

I glanced out the window watching the snowfall

And Madelyn sledding down the hill. 
In her innocence I saw us 

You making hot cocoa with the carefullest delicacy 

After us sledding in -20 degree temperature.

You building a snow fort

Crowning me princess of the castle. 
Christmas music plays fuzzily in the background.

I watch you look dully at your phone

While mom asks how college is. 

It takes me back to when you sang me Christmas hymns 

In a Mickey Mouse voice. 
Mom leaves us alone 

And almost immediately your face turns cold

You insist that mom forced us 

kicking and screaming into this existence.

That every day is a struggle to breathe.
I stare at your body posture

Your hands are wrapped so tightly around the mug that it might break. 

You are a cold engineer fixing capitalism now

Making small talk about the bourgeoisie.

I know you, but that’s because we are both walking art.

I know you, but that’s because we are both walking art.

And one day he will lose control and he will use your body as a punching bag.
You are going to look like a Jackson pollock piece.
When people ask you’ll lie to yourself and say it was your fault,
It was your fault you dressed in such a way that other men looked at you,
That you provoked his jealous tendencies.

And one day your eyes will clear up and you will see him for what he really is,
But then he’ll say,”Hello.”
And you will try your hardest to be strong, but that red notification is so irritating.
Your knees will lock and you will fall.

And one day becomes today, but
It’s too late because you opened up your innermost thoughts to him.
He knows how to pull your strings just right.
It must be getting dark sitting in his closet with all his other skeletons
Like some discarded piece of paper mache.

I don’t write on here that often anymore because I’m trying to live life and not dwell on it.

Hi, what’s up? It’s been a good amount of time. I’m back at normal school this week. Wednesday was my first day back and honestly it has been amazing. I love being back at school. There is just one underlying thing that has been irritating me very much. That would be that I don’t get to turn in my drawing portfolio I have worked on all year. I haven’t worked on it since I got put into outpatient I’ve been focusing on myself. Thus I have 4/12 pieces done for this half of the year oops. That’s ok though. I can retake it next year whatever. It’s just kind of a bummer because everyone’s hyper and excited and turning theirs in and well I’m not…it makes me anxious to be in AP drawing, but I know it doesn’t make me any less than the rest of them.

There was this kid from outpatient and I let him take me in a date. We hung out a total of two times and he became super clingy. Fuck that shit I’m out. We don’t mess with codependency. Also all this other crap is happening too which is a delight, but otherwise I really cannot complain. Let’s just say my “love life” is such a mess I would rather just not date anyone Jesus Christ. The thing he said that bugged me the most is that he believes he’s the only one who can provide me with happiness which is just about the stupidest thing I’ve heard. Not true whatsoever. I’m capable of being happy without a relationship I’m not that delicate.

Last night.

Last night he decided that he just had to see me. When he makes up his mind like that I try to comply and be obedient. I wanted to see him too anyways. It had been two weeks after all. I was scared that he would see my arm. I had relapsed and knew that it wouldn’t go over well with him.  “Why would you cut your beautiful body?” That’s the question he asked me last time. I fade in and out of reality and the past. It’s always the past that makes me do it. The moment I’m living in isn’t that bad. I sit in my room alone with music blasting obnoxiously loud and I look out the window at the birds and other things as they merrily move along their way.

He did not see my arm. He didn’t have a chance to get me out of my clothes last night. It was too risky. Instead his hand slipped down my jeans and teased me as we drove around with food blasting the radio.

“Look at me every once in awhile,” he demanded

“I’m sorry,” I whispered carefully.

“Keep acting like a kidnap victim and maybe I’ll treat you like one.” He tried to lighten the mood.

I remember being embarrassed as I told him he should undo his pants for me. This feeling that I felt obligated to repay the favor. I had to get him off too.

Tonight, I might see him again. I’m really nervous because he will probably see my arm. I might cover it with band aids and say I fell. I hate lying to him though. He said we could spend the evening together tonight if his roommates are going to be out. I’m very excited to see him if he can.  This type of relationship requires honesty and trust between us. A little girl should not lie to her dominant or defy him in any way.

I am a little bit upset though because it has occurred to me that I don’t know how many spankings I’m getting for being a sassy little brat towards him. I won’t know when it’s going to stop. It will hurt to sit. Wish me luck sigh.

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