I Will Love You Quietly. In My Way. You Are In My Thoughts, And Songs, And Poetry. You Are In My Dreams

Do you realize how difficult it is for me to put myself first? I have lived in the shadow of everyone I have ever been with. I have made myself smaller trying to fit in and be everything that they need, always. 

Now, is the time for me. It took me thirty years to finally acknowledge this. I will lose people in doing so. I will have to put my own feelings ahead of everyone else. 

Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. How do I learn to not care about how I make everyone else feel? How do I do what I need to do to heal and become this better version of me? How do I even be me?

Who am I, really?  

I am a lament, the trees whisper into the breeze on a windy day. Full of sorrow and grief over my useless existence.

The wanting is killing you, darling. The longing is keeping you from sleep. The way your chest aches is like a stone at the bottom of a lake.

When I have no ideas for putting together the thoughts that need to read aloud by others, I like to pretend that it is not my time yet for my words, thoughts, feelings to be put out in the world. Please, give me a sign when it is my time to emerge from my subconscious once again. These thoughts are slowly drowning me and must be set free.

When I die,

Bury me in the forest.

There will be no need for visiting me.

I have found home with the foliage.

The shame of living will disappear as my body becomes the earth.

You don't know this yet. You are my sunshine.

The smile I can feel from a whole country away, well it takes the breath out of me. You are beauty in the rawest form. Your eyes hold the earth, the soil and grass. I could get lost in them and not worry if I need to be found. I feel warmth getting to bask in your light. Your voice melts all the sorrows.

I am not one for words and ideas of affection, but when I feel the sun radiating everyday, you must be made aware.

I despise myself. The way I live, or rather a state of surviving until the next sunrise. I despise the way I let others speak to me. The way I choose to live. I have no will to change it though. I will disassociate my days away.

You don’t understand I’m trying everyday to just stay alive. I’m not lazy, I know I have hours alone. There is no excuse for me not doing what needs to be done throughout the day. Other than, I am trying not to die. Literally. It’s not an expression. I spend my hours alone, writing, reading, playing video games. To distract myself. I’m scared of what would happen if I did not have things to distract myself with. The thoughts of dying are just too much some days, and I’d rather just sleep the day away.

Depression is a bitch on a good day.

Let me be a moth with soft papery wings.

The moon my muse, in the witching hours.

Only the strange can see my beauty.

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I don't want to die today.

I'm usually contemplating my life, or lack of, through these hours.

Living is difficult most days.

Then you happened along, and reminded me there are still things to live for.

Your positivity is contagious.

I have a new disorder within me now, that illuminates the darkest parts of my mind.

The sunrise is beautiful again every morning.

Uneasiness that sends moths down my throat, have turned to butterflies.

I adore you.

I need to see the universe through your eyes, just once.

So I will have something to hold onto when the moon is high at night, and the darkness attempts to seduce me.