Aside

I Am Free

I am nothing but a soul trying to find peace
I have been beaten down to no return.
My mind is fragile, my confidence scarred
Think positive, but all I produce is negative
I feel as if I wander looking for something
Something that I cannot find
I search I search I search
I crawl, I walk, I run
Happiness, I guess that’s what I’m searching for
Or maybe it’s peace,
Hope, Or love
Love for myself once again
Love for me and my being.
I am locked. Trapped like an animal.
I try to claw my way out
But instead I end up being buried alive
I am suffocating.
It is debilitating, crushing.
Why oh why did this happen to me?
I suppose it was just a twist of fate.
If only I could see a little light
And breathe a little bit of fresh air
Maybe then this feeling will wash away
And I can finally say

I am free.

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The Painting

The thought of life gives me the chills, the shakes, the nerves, and everything in that category and some in between. There are so many changes, and I’m not sure how to digest them all. I categorize the changes instead, from least worrisome to the most worrisome. The ones that I can deal with.. and the ones that I feel that I cannot. It’s just life, I know. I have so many people surrounding me and supporting me, but sometimes the loneliness still strikes. It strikes so hard that it reverberates in my bones and it ricochets into my mind. In and out these thoughts flow. In and out my breathing goes as it gets faster and faster and more shallow. Everything becomes sensitive.. I try to remain cool, calm, and collected.. But, how? How, when it feels like everything is so far gone.

I close my eyes and try to imagine a new reality. One where the sunrises are vivid and the sunsets look like a beautiful canvas painting. I try to paint myself smiling, happy, and with eyes that are filled with glee. In my mind, the world looks bright. The colors are stunning and bright, just like my endless possibilities. The artist of this world is one that knows how to paint a beautiful picture. The artist in my mind knows how to paint situations to mask the real emotions. Slap a happy green, yellow, or purple over those drab blues and greys that have taken over my mind. Paint a face with a beaming smile to cover that frown. The artist in me has to make sure that smile has teeth showing, though. The artist has studied her audience a lot. She has learned that her audience, everyday people, think you are the happiest when you smile with teeth. Alas, the artist in me says she is finished with the current project. She tells me to open my eyes. I open them, and I think that I will see a gorgeous painting in front of me. Instead I see a painting that I do not want to see. I see a painting of a world that is ugly. The colors are mute and depressing. Instead of drowning my problems in the painting, they are showcased. I thought the artist in me was going to paint over this! I thought she was going to give me something happy and joyful. Instead I am left staring at a painting of my own problems, insecurities, and emotions that I wanted to cover. Perhaps it is time to stop covering them, but instead face them. Face the hideous colors as they are.

Daddy

hey daddy. It’s me, olivia. You know, your youngest daughter. Do you remember?

I can tell it takes you a minute to recognize me. Well, I go to MC now. I’m a junior and an english literature major. Do you remember when I told you that?

I’ve missed you so much, daddy. I hope that you have missed me, too. The smallest things make me think of you and our memories. Oh please daddy say you remember.

you’ve changed. You’re a different person now. You still have the same gentle soul, but now you possess a broken mind. What happened, daddy?

Do you remember yourself before we were told you have early on set dementia? Do you remember when you taught me how to ride a bike? Do you remember when you helped me with my science projects? Do you remember my high school gradation? Daddy, please remember.

It breaks my heart to see you live like this. In a constant state of inner turmoil and confusion.

But daddy sometimes you show flickers of who you used to be. Sometimes you are who you were.. But only for a few seconds. I wish that those times would last forever. Daddy, I know you’re still here. Are the memories tucked away somewhere?

You speak and try to make conversation. Your words are jumbled and you now have a stutter. Sometimes I wish that I could just grab you and shake you so you would be back to normal!

Daddy! Daddy! Why did this have to happen to you?

Some days feel so hard daddy. Some days it feels like I just can’t do it anymore. Can you hear me daddy? Will you remember what I’m saying?

Please, if you don’t remember anything else, just remember that I love you.

And I know you love me to

19

19.

Stuck between being a woman and being a child. She can’t help but live the fast life.

Dress to impress. Short shorts short skirts short shirts. Make sure you put your confidence on today.

Slather your red lipstick on, put on your glass facade. Your face is never complete without a smile; even if it’s fake. Never let the tears that stream down your beautiful face show.

Fake it till you make it. Fake it till you make it. Fake it till you make it.

Late nights are the regular. Doing God knows what.

“Take a hit of the blunt. Take a drink of the booze. ”

the fast life is all she knows.

But when does she realize it all comes to a screeching halt? When is the game over? When does the facade crumble?

Until then she keeps living her life, at the tender age of 19.

But she keeps getting caught between being a woman

and a child

 

Girl with an afro

I’m just another girl with an afro.

“Why don’t you comb it?” “Why did you decide to cut all of that long, pretty, straight hair off?” “Why would you want to look like that?”

Who would’ve thought there’d be so much criticism for wearing my hair the way it comes out of my head? I celebrate my hair and all of its kinks and coils. Why would I want to hide it? But, I’m just another girl with an afro.

I celebrate my hair, why can’t you? The snarky comments and the negativity are not needed. Your dirty looks and crassness are not warranted. I wish your opinion of my hair was asked for. Perhaps then your opinion would be valued.

But, I am just another girl with an afro.

 

City Feels

The red lipstick I wear stuns

As I sashay and strut down the city

The heads and the faces of the people turn

But I have no care

My mind only focuses on the present

And never the past

My body sways with the wind

As the cold bites my face

The city lights are like a carnival

Around me

They highlight my features

They create beautiful shadows

The people and their energy electrify me

I feel liberated; unchained

My being is left to roam this earth

My soul is left to frolic

My eyes bounce from place to place

And person to person

My senses are going through overload

But I have no complaints

The city captures me

The walk and the talk

The music and the art

The realities and the illusions

The fantasies and the tales

Are all here

But eventually

I fall back into my reality

I realize again

I am just another person in this great

Sea of people

I am just another spirit wandering these streets

Ashes

The ashes are still fresh. There’s a cigarette that’s barely lit, smoke gracefully flowing through the air. My heart tells me you stayed. But, my mind knows better. I roll over, and all I see is your indent. The place where your body once was.

You left not too long ago.

I can’t help ┬ábut clutch your pillow, the smell of you is still there. It’s intoxicating, it’s nauseating. The sheets are a tangled mess among me, and so are my emotions. You have me and my body wrapped around your finger. You have a piece of my heart. You have left an imprint on my soul. My mind wanders back to last night as the warm tears stream down my eyes.

The way your fingers glided across me felt like electricity. The glisten in your eyes gave me a high. The way you spoke to me made my skin shiver. You have me mesmorized. You have my every move calculated.

The morning after leaves me bitter. That joyous ecstasy is gone. The high is no more. The crash is unbearable. The hurt has rattled me to my bones. Every being of me is in unbearable pain.

I stumble to the bathroom, utterly terrified to look at my reflection. The harsh, artificial light paints a horrible picture all over my face. I am disgusted with myself. How could I let you do this to me again? How could I believe all of those hollow words all over? The girl looking back at me is disappointed. I repeatedly get my heart ripped out by you like clockwork. It’s a never ending cycle of joy and pain. I love you, I do. But I also despise you.

I try to get myself together for the day ahead of me. I clean up the running, black mascara. My cheeks are puffy, and red from the leftover blush. My lipstick is long gone. I fix my matted afro just as the phone rings.

It’s you again.

Asking if I want a repeat of last night. You say you enjoyed yourself. The words that come out of your mouth sound like a beautiful poem. They are a melody. They ring throughout my ear and bounce around in my mind. An excitement comes over me. My mind tells me no, but I hear myself say yes.

I know I will regret this. It’ll be another morning of tears, anger, and regret.

But, there’s something in me that can’t stop making a deal with the devil.

Conversations with Myself

“What do you love about me?”

“Oh gosh. Why do you ask me questions like this? I hate them.”

“Please, just answer the question. I just want to know. You can actually answer it, right? Or, do you actually have to dig deep for an answer? I didn’t think the question was hard.”

“Well, I find that the answer to your question changes. It may change hourly, daily, weekly, whatever. Some days the things that I love about you are your downfall. Sometimes the things that I love about you today are the things that I hate the next day. It’s complicated. Before, I used to crave and wish that you were someone else. I didn’t love you, and I rarely liked you. Your seemingly permanent insecurity was disgusting. It was something that I hated. There were always endless excuses on why you couldn’t and wouldn’t do something. They were hollow and baseless. Your thoughts were something that was vile. They poisoned you… I often wondered why you would do this to me…..”

“Are you just going to spew hateful things? The question I asked you was not relevant to your answer. Why must you always bring up those days. They are gone and they are buried. Tell me. What do you love about me? When you see me what emotions flicker and flutter across your mind and being? What thoughts consume you when you see me? What are the words you wish to tell me? Are my thoughts and actions still baseless and hollow? Or have they gotten some substance now? Surely there must be something within me that you love. Or do you just loathe every inch of me?”

“You’re never satisfied with the answer. Of course there are things that I love about you. I dare not hate every inch of your being. Do you feel as if I do? There are things that I love about you. In truth, there are many things. Well I’ll start off like this. I don’t want to randomly list things off that I love. You are not a bag of groceries that I must check off. There’s a certain type of comfort that I feel in you. Your being is simply intoxicating. Why? Ask yourself why isn’t it. The way your eyes glisten and gleam is lovely. You are learning to find a beauty in life now. I would say that is what I love the most. No, you are not perfect, and I will not tell you that. I have no urge to tell you that. However-

“Please stop. Your answer is vague. It seems generic, almost rehearsed. What is the honest truth? What is the honest answer? Maybe there’s more digging that needs to be done. Why am I even asking this question. What do you love about me… What a ridiculous question. I see the answer everyday. I answer my own question everyday… Nevermind. I wish to know no more. “

Tonight’s Nostalgia

There’s a certain nostalgic feeling that I get at this time of night. I’m not quite sure what brings it on. Although I try not to dig too deep into the reasoning. When it comes, I just enjoy it. The soulful voice of Amy Winehouse is very calming for me. The past few weeks have been interesting, and it’s nice to have a little moment of complete calm. For a little it seemed that everything in my life was in complete turmoil and falling apart. It felt like there would never be a way out. However, things have changed. I won’t say that the clouds have completely cleared away, but the sunshine is peaking through. Even so, I can’t believe that February has come and is almost gone.

As I sit here I can’t help but think about the people of my past. The many personalities that I’ve gotten to know, but eventually things just fall away. Perhaps we outgrow each other. In fact, as I walk around campus I occasionally see some old best friends. Sometimes we say hello and sometimes we do not. But, it’s crazy because I find myself reminiscence of past times. During those times we were inseparable. We knew each other like the back of our hands. The world was ours and there were endless possibilities for us. We made promises to always be together because we were best friends. Little did we know, a few years from then we would never even know each anymore. Now, we are virtual strangers to each other. You would never know we were ever friends at all. Sometimes it gets me a little sad. But, a part of me knows that it will never be the same. We have grown and evolved into different people. Different interests, different pursuits, different lives. But, what causes you to grow apart? It’s a gradual thing, I suppose. You just stop talking, and before you realize it… The friendship is gone. But, you never know. Life has a way of rekindling things. Perhaps we’ll cross each other’s paths again. Perhaps not.

I think of my past life lightly. I try not to analyze it. I try not to find reasoning and I don’t question it. I was a different person. My mind has changed, my outlook on life has changed. My outlook on myself has changed. I’ve lost some friends and I’ve gained some. But, the most important friend that I’ve gained is myself…

Well, that grand feeling of nostalgia has been replaced with a feeling of sleepiness. My eyes are getting increasingly heavy. My mind is getting quieter. I guess I’ll finish tonight with a little Back to Black.

Goodnight everyone

My Battle with Self Love

My insecurities are showing through. The habit of looking in the mirror and being disgusted with the girl looking back is here once again. The negative thoughts that plague me are running through my head at lightning speed. I’ve always struggled with major insecurity. The constant feeling of never being good enough. The constant feeling of always being second, third, or fourth best. The comparison between me and them is ever prominent. It’s almost like there is another voice inside of me that drowns out my own.

“You’re not good enough.”

“You could never do that.”

“Of course you messed up, you never get anything right.”

I try to replace the negative with the positive, but to no avail. The thing is, I’m not comparing myself physically. I am ok with the way I am on the outside. My problem is with my inside self. Many days I am not satisfied with the girl on the inside. I have so many demons that I need to put to rest. There are so many mistakes that I’ve made that I can’t seem to let go. My mind and soul suffer. There is a void inside of me that I can’t seem to fill.

Sometimes I try to fill the void with material things. Sometimes I try to fill the void with other people. I have this false sense of security in other people. I somehow think that if I surround myself with others then the void will be filled. Perhaps being the funniest in the group, being the most liked in the group will give me some sort of gratification for myself. Some sort of false and temporary love for the girl inside. But other times, I realize…

This void has to be filled by me. No amount of attention from others will fill the void. I can’t look for a sense of security from other people. Nobody can give me self love. Self love has to come from me. I come to realize that I am my own enemy, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. I can make myself, or I can break myself. Lately, I’ve been my own enemy. I feed the negative thoughts. I’ve learned how to be negative. I am the one holding myself back. But, habits are hard to break. If I can start little by little and replace one negative thought with a positive one, that’s a start. If I can build myself up, instead of tearing myself down, that’s a start. I know I can do it. I know I can live a more positive life. It will take time. I have to appreciate myself. I have to practice self love, instead of self hatred.