one.her hair is always a mess

I made this blog last year in either January of February. At the time I was drowning in feelings of worthlessness, sadness, emptiness. My entries focused on my unhappiness about my life; about how I never thought I was good enough. It was a little cry for attention, a vague hope that one person would read and understand. In all honesty my junior year was probably the worst time of my life.

I deleted all my old posts, mostly because they made me cringe. I had a hell of a year, and gladly escaped junior year alive. I'm in a much better place than I was last year, ironically because of the person who made it bad. It's a long convoluted explanation, perhaps best explained in two poems.

you're a blood rush away from a bad decision,
another junkie searching for his fix.
smart enough to not involve finality,
commitment free as you reach her lips.

how's that parking lot treating you?
who comes to mind when you kiss?
backseat memories created in the dark of night,
hiding the fact that you're actions make you sick.

you're got her wrapped around your finger,
all the while dragging me behind.
you're letting pleasure take you over,
and i'll pretend that i don't mind.

And then, in a follow up:

i was pieces broken and left like a forgotten toy
'till you found the remnants and did your best repair
i've been carefully reconstructed
yet i'm constantly on the verge of collapse
and the beautiful irony is that it's on your conscience
i wasn't put there by choice
it was betrayal, loneliness, hurt
caused and created by the one i cared for most
myself a victim of you're sick desperation
i've walked through the valley
and lived by the twenty third psalm
now i'm heading to the light
the pain you caused on the backburner
for without hurt and pain and caustic words
happiness has nothing to be compared to.