Little girl, lost.

There was once a little girl, so innocent and sweet. She was very quiet and very seldom spoke, but oh, when she did.... It was as if the whole world went silent and listened. She didn't jabber on about nonsense and make small talk, no. She spoke from her heart, her little care-free, forever staying heart. She was strong, maybe a little bit naive, since she seemed to believe nothing would ever harm her, no words could ever tear her confidence because after all, words are just simply sounds when you choose to let them be just that.

This little girl grew up to be sassy, confident, independent and strong. She didn't need anyone, she chose whether or not she wanted to be tied to people. That little girl is lost.

Lost, are the days where she could make a perfectly timed, cute and inappropriate joke.  Lost, are the days when she could smirk, and perfectly balance her sass and charm.
She was like a goddamn temptress when she wanted to be, she knew how to work her magic. Not just with friends and boyfriends, but she charmed her way into successful jobs too.

But, one day she vanished and now all that is left is a shell of who she once was. An image... but tarnished, tired, worn out, afraid.

"What happened?" Seems to be all that I can ask myself when I look into the mirror.
What happened to me being that perfect person? MY version of perfect. That version of me worked so well, for quite some time.

And now? That perfect person doesn't seem to exist.

THIS is why I hate borderline. You wake up, never knowing what version of yourself you'll be. Yesterday I was a punk rock chick with a crude attitude, today I'm an overly preppy, delicate and dainty little thing. Today I am shy... when I promised myself last night that I wouldn't be this way anymore.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I think I'm paranoid

Often times I struggle to remember simple facts of life, for example : Fact - it's impossible to lick your own ear while it is still attached to your head. I struggle with anxiety-induced paranoia. I often have difficulties with separating my paranoia from reality. When I was young, I used to think that everyone thought there was someone watching them from just beyond the sight of their bedroom window when they dressed. I used to think that there was someone standing just out of my eyesight at all times, with binoculars, sometimes even looking at me through the walls of my room. I used to think that my radio could record every thought that I had, every whisper, I thought my teddy bears were staring at me, watching me, silently judging. It didn't help that when I'd come home from school, my radio and teddy bears were out of place. Little did I know, my younger sister would come into my room and play. All my life I believed that there were cameras in the bathroom, recording
Read more

I'm not okay

Image
I don't remember the last time I ate properly. I haven't had a proper meal in days... and it's not that I don't have food at home, or the means to cook it.... I do, but I can't be bothered. It's not that I'm deliberately trying to starve myself again, I just don't have the energy to take care of myself anymore. I'm not okay. My hair is caked in grease, and while I've taken to having a lot of bubble baths lately, I just sit in the water, spacing out at the wall, not really properly caring for myself. I don't remember the last time I ran a brush through my hair, besides today when my son offered to brush my hair for me to try to help me feel beautiful again. I wake up each morning, stomach rumbling and chewing on itself, my body feels heavy, as if it too has given up. Everything aches. My shoulders feel as if they've been carying the weight of the world on them, my throat feels coarse and dry like sandpaper and it hurts to breathe.
Read more

“I am Jack's complete lack of surprise. I am Jack's Broken Heart.”

Image
Love is making me crazy.. this "breakup" is making me insane... I am at a crossroads. Lately, it feels as if I'm love/hate itself, I don't portray the actions, I AM the actions. I am hate.. I am rage, anger, bitterness. venom for words, spitting on the cold hard truths, just to bear pain on those who listen. I am love. I am kindness,warmth,laughter,joy,care. Sweet melodies for words, sugary syrup dripping from my mouth as I promise sweetness to those who listen. I can't be the hero AND the villain. But most days, it feels as if I am. I'm kind, giving, generous... Then I try to protect myself, and become evil and vindictive and conniving. I think my self defense mechanisms are acting up. A few of the rotors are jammed. I am trying so hard to heal from a broken relationship, but I keep chasing after it. Like a junkie, trying to scrape that last pill out of the bottle, only to watch it fall down the drainpipe... grasping,clawing,begging for it. H
Read more