" I feel,"
"MY stomach,"
I just want to pull myself apart. I want to slice open all the pieces and pick at it until I figure it out. This is so gross. And it doesn't help that my clothes is drenched in lentil smoke which smells like cigarette smoke, because all smoke (after it settles) smells like cigarette smoke. So now every time I shower- which has resulted to almost two times a day- I change into smoke clothes. I feel disgusting. I can't get clean. It doesn't matter how many times I turn my cheek, how many times I stay quiet, mind my own business, look away, I'm the one that's going home smelling like the result of something someone else smoked.
"I'M the one,"
"I change into smoke,"
Is there no way to express what you're feeling without being so pretentious all the time? All of these sentences start with "I", "me", "I'm", it's exhausting. I've become an expert at running from everyone else, but you can't run from yourself. How cliché is that? How freaking stupid, really stupid and dumb, is that? First off, I hate how I'm feeling, and second, I hate that I'm the one that's feeling it. I'm not trying to be confusing, or cryptic. I don't want to be confused, I just want to be at peace. But it's like half of me is happy, really, truly happy and at peace, and the other half is dying. Not just numb, or dormant- dying. Big things and changes are happening, and they aren't freaking me out, in fact they're really easy to handle almost, even without trying really. But then these tiny things happen, and I know something is wrong. I'm not praying, not as much as I should be. But I feel The Lord still guide my hand. Why is he doing that? It shouldn't be that way, should it? I know it's not me. I'm not the one that's doing all of these things with ease, not alone.
"half of ME is happy,"
"I'M not praying,"
I'm sitting here thinking that He knows me better. That He has plans for me of things that I couldn't even consider right now. But why? It's probably true, but why would he do that? Haven't I been a coaster? Family life was hard but I just wadded through until I could leave. High school seemed like a speed bump I didn't care to slow down for. Being in a serious relationship was hell, straight hell, but I enjoyed it- miss it even. I'm not depressed, I don't need pills. I'm not cutting, I'm not suicidal. I'm just-nothing. I'm coasting again. I'm doing as I'm told. I'm doing what they want. And "they" switches from time to time. I can't tell which ideas are mine, and which have been planted. I'm seeking validation in people that have always disappointed me. I'm going soft. I'm getting weak. But it feels like everyone else is telling me I'm sprouting. I'm sitting here listening to an album that he and I used to make out to. After we split, I used to tear myself apart listening to this. I used to cry the instant it started, remembering that boy. I swear I could still feel him, taste him even. But now, it's just a song. I can't tell if I'm proud, or ashamed. I swear I'm over him, I don't have to prove that to anyone because I know it's true. But it's strange, this song used to mean the world, now it means nothing. I'm not sure what's going on. Am I getting confident? Or careless? It feels like I've gotten everything together, like I've really figured out so much, but then I don't care. I'm seeing this bigger picture, I'm seeing in perspective, then I'm throwing it aside and claiming the bigger picture sucks. But I can't tell if it actually does suck, or if I'm just saying that. It's like I'm going around, asking people to dance with me, I'm all excited and hopeful, but no one wants to dance. The fact that no one wants to dance makes me think that I shouldn't want to dance. But I've never been one to question myself because of others. And even still, it's more than just being insecure. Because it's not being insecure. It's something more.
"I could still feel him,"
"I swear I'm over him,"
It's like a decay. A gif that is my life, of something bright and strong, decaying. Over and over again, it's beautiful and valuable, confident, daring maybe, then suddenly it's a corroded piece of whatever it was before. It's like someone sucked out all my juices and put them in a cup, then set the cup right next to me. It's not gone, it's not ruined, it's just not in me. And I can't put it back in me because the ability to do that left when it was sucked out with the juices. Now what, I pray again? I cry a little, I ask for forgiveness, but I still feel the same.
I'm the same girl that made a mistake and repented.
I'm the same girl that feels so much but feels nothing at all.
I'm the same girl.
Today, tomorrow, forever.
Cut my hair, change the color.
Get different clothes.
Talk different.
Study harder.
Smile more.
Wear makeup.
Move out.
Eat less.
Exercise more.
Never cries.
Tells the truth.
Stays out late.
Takes chances.
But the same.
The exact, same, girl.
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