nothing, nada, niente

Precipice

Lambasting and wasting away

I wait as my insides are torn apart

Dewdrops of pain falling from my eye ducts

No drugs can alleviate 

Or validate 

these feelings that I feel

How I wish it wasn't real as my mind steals

Away

Running off the edge of a mental precipice 

Holding onto clouds of dust that choke me

Before I hit the ground; I provoked this

Hell for myself

There's no way I'm not jealous of those 

Who are free of it

And not trapped in a tomb with nothing but

Broken hearts; panic and wounds

Paralyzed and chronically surprised

By the sheer unexpectedness 

Of all the lies accusations and betrayals of trust that

Infiltrate all our thoughts 

Destroying our view of the other as we cling on

To our own souls
for dear life;

We cut others down with knives;

Hearts carved out with words and spite

Insides hollowed out and kept out of sight

Doing what's wrong despite knowing what's right 

Keep on fighting when there's no reason to fight

And always 

Missing that
something 

that keeps our souls burning 

bright.
Goodnight...

Some say

The only way to overcome pain is to
go through it
Others might say you can
takes step to remove it, disprove it or use it
for something greater than all of it
Find your purpose through the pain if you choose it
No tears or hurt means you're useless...

Don't confuse this
With hopeless musings
Its nothing but the truth
A whisper amongst screams and empty schemes:
"Don't fall for it."

False hope meant to calm us
Leave marks like shadows seeping inside us
Like all those broken promises
The brightness of our eyes stolen
Through all the dramas and mistrust
Adults with the hearts of battered children
All those happy thoughts erased
Eradicated by the named
and nameless faces we seek to displace.

What happened to all the dreams we used to chase?

The truth slips through the cracks
in the masks we wear as we wear ourselves out
While inside we decay and cast about
Our life a play with many acts
Big brains full of lots of facts and other
useless information telling us that
we should develop our station
A nation divided by terror and
misplaced fascination...

How am I supposed to end this war on myself
When all I can think about is
My health and wealth?
This strive for perfection when there's no such thing as
perfect beauty, knowledge or affection
Waiting on my mental resurrection
When the true perfection is always
outside my perception

If I can't get an answer
then why ask the question?

Hands clasped behind my head
Staring at my feet
Eyes like darkened pools,
Overflowing, bittersweet
Wisdom that's obsolete and indiscreet

What can you do if life is hell and you can't take the heat?
Retreat and accept defeat.
Living on with the strangled hope that
Someday your Savior you will meet...

Feeling the desperation rise as I struggle
to stay organized
Fingers aching to tear at my eyes
Mouth pulled down into a grimace
No more disguises to beguile the masses
Can't hide the spasms of panic that rip through me and consume me
Theres nothing to me
anymore I'm all out of free passes
Running through these dark mazes
I can't face this, I'm wasted.
Looking for peace but can't taste it or replace it...

Stop lying...please...

I wish people would stop telling me I'm beautiful.

Pretty, hot... whatever they wanna call me...

It's all such a lie. They think that that is what I want to hear, so they say it... thinking it will make me feel better about myself. I don't get how they would assume such... why are people so inconsiderate? So insensitive? Does that sort of compliment ever actually make someone feel good about themselves?

They can't fool me... they can't convince me of something so utterly false.

I know my deformity. I know it better than anyone else, because I see it every day. I can feel it the moment I wake up. I just try not to  think about it...

So I hate the times where I can't avoid looking at it. I think that if people would just stop lying to my face about my face, when I have to look at it... it wouldn't be so bad. I'd be able to accept my ugliness and focus on more important things...

Because I know really my looks shouldn't matter anyway.... but for some reason, they do... and to be reminded once again of my obvious hideousness masked in a supposed compliment.... it just destroys whatever semblance of confidence, of comfortableness, that I've been able to build up between exposures to my marked disfigurement.

To have someone verbally point out ANYTHING about it, really, is just another reminder of how utterly disgusting it really is, and how I am stuck with it. There is no amount of makeup or pretty hair or clothing that can disguise it. I am stuck with it for life, and its only going to get worse as I get older.

Well, at least the older I get, the less people will feel the need to lie about it... and I can finally accept it. Just have to wait until my age shows enough so that people stop expecting beauty across the board. In a way, I can't wait.

I just wish....I don't know... I wish I was either totally ugly or totally pretty, and not some weird place in between; pretty eyes set in an ugly face... Either way would be better. I think then, people would stop lying to me. And I would be confident instead of unsure when I walk into a room, confident either way. Accepting the situation for what it is. JUST STOP LYING BECAUSE YOU THINK THATS WHAT I WANT TO HEAR! I KNOW YOU'RE LYING. YOUR LIES JUST MAKE IT WORSE.

Its such a stupid thing. Hubs must think I'm so stupid for feeling so upset about it. Well, I know that I am.  But it doesn't stop me from freaking out when we go to get our pictures taken and I fix my hair and makeup and dress and then get destroyed when the photographer shows us what hideousness has been captured, my trollishness saved forever in her computer files, distributed out amongst the congregation in the directory.

At least everyone else is used to my repulsiveness; having to see it any time you interact with me must help them get past it. I'm sure at first it is odd, but soon it just becomes who I am to them... I wonder how long until I can accept it for what it is and not freak out... I know that I'm right. I have thought for a long time I was suffering from BDD. But I have gotten past that... and I see my face for what it is. Maybe in some angles, with certain lighting, I look ok, I will admit that. But in reality, my face is a mess. And it always will be, unless I get plastic surgery or something. Which I won't do for moral reasons, I guess...

If people would just stop lying to me... it really would help me accept it.... just please stop lying to me. Don't call me beautiful when its not true. Don't tell me I should be happy with how I look, as if I am some kind of supermodel when that is SUCH A LIE. THERE IS NOTHING BEAUTIFUL ABOUT ME. If you can't think of anything nice to say without lying, DON'T SAY ANYTHING.




I don't want to care anymore...so please....stop making me...