littlealienbrainleakage:

She threw a five pound weight at him.

“Imagine having those thrown at you near constantly. You may occasionally get to drop them, but not as fast as new ones get thrown at you. Every moment you are awake you are risking having one thrown at you. You don’t  get to be warned ahead of time you’re going to have something thrown at you. Go through that and tell me how long it takes for you to give up.”

I’m not really sure where I was trying to go with this. It’s old and clearly unfinished forever, but I am in this mindset right now of, “Maybe if I post some of my writing on the internet it will make me write more things.”

littlealienbrainleakage:

Wrap yourself around me; let me feel alive.
Give me me one good reason to make it through tonight.
I need you now to help me through the mess that I have made,
because all that I am good at is needing to be saved.

littlealienbrainleakage:

She wasted her life waiting. “Useless.”

littlealienbrainleakage:

Here I sit, alone and scared

of what tomorrow brings.

There never was a single chance

for me to spread my wings.

Though failed attempts have left me scarred

and kept me close to ground,

I draw my breath just one more time

and let myself scream loud.

I have not updated my writing blog in months and when I do it’s another lazy poem.

Oops.

I’ve been working on more prose, but it has the problem of being long and me getting distracted part way through so I have at least four projects going at once. ¬_¬

littlealienbrainleakage:

You would think,
in a world where
nothing is free,
I could pay someone
to help me pick
what I’ll eat for lunch.

Don’t try to write poems while dizzy and hungry.

littlealienbrainleakage:

Selfish instinct overcomes;
any depth is overwhelmed.
But what is love if not for self?
All others are but your shadow.

It must be nice, that narcissism.
What’s it like to put you first?
Do you feel guilt and frustration
that can burden others who try?

No, of course not; the world is yours.
So many lies you have been fed.
But maybe lies aren’t what they were,
since you’ve been proven king again.

I finally forced myself to make a writing blog. I’ll probably still subject you guys to most of what I put there, but it’s something I needed to do for myself, to test a theory I suppose. If I have a writing blog, will I commit to this more? After all, I have been slacking in the writing department for one who weakly considers herself a writer.

Also, there’s a chance someone might be interested in my writing without all the fan stuffs and whatnot that end up on this blog. I have seem to have gotten at least a little attention specifically for my words lately.

Planning

takes patience

and forethought.

This basket only has

impulse and

frustration.

Laugh it off.
I’m just a joke.
It’s easier that way.
If I were serious,
after all,
you might have to realize
it hurts.

A single step was too much.

Procrastination is an art.
I would show you how to do it,
but I’m too busy doing nothing.

Control is something you can have over you.
The actions of others are not yours to decide.
It’s funny how some object to this,
and not because they’re concerned about who gets hurt,
but because they want to collect people like dolls.

A star in the distance
is a dream I can’t have.
Constant taunts from happiness
dance in my nightmares.
Memories I wasn’t allowed
eat at me while awake.

Resistance
must be consistent
to get this
far a distance.

“I need you to reschedule your breakdown; your timing is a bit inconvenient. Please push it back until March or so. No, that won’t do. How’s your 2020?”

“I heard you were dead.”

I’ve said those words so many times in my sleep that I’ve started to think I’ve said them while awake.

It’s possible I have. Though, if that is the case, it was to myself rather than anyone I know to be dead. Some mornings it’s just that much a surprise I’ve managed to wake. The words don’t mean as much to my dying soul as they do when applied to one with no chance of returning.