silently weeping. don't wake her she's sleeping.
searching for someone who isn't there and it makes me insecure.
people slipping further away;
as I lie here in bed. sometimes I think I'd be better off dead.
a stupid thought I seem to think. one of the many which cause me to sink.
and something inside me seems to grow. something which only my silence knows.
boiling and bubbling in my head.
on my tongue but not for long. in my head it sings a song.
it builds a castle in a bubble, one to swallow away my trouble.
and pictures of you melt in my mind. maybe one day I'll find the time
to forget about you;
to leave you behind.
and slowly and silently everyday I feel myself slipping further away;
into my silence; into my shell
"god," I think, "this must be hell"
and the orange and the yellow;
and you peering down on me and thinking;
I see you thinking, "she's not all she could be."
a smart girl threw away her world and left it in a painting in a drawer
no one opens anymore and now it's too late to know and now it's too late
to care and now it's too late to open it up and see who might've been there.
"she's like a turtle," you say, "she wants you to know her but she's afraid"
And I Spit!
"she wants you to know but she's to scared to leave her shell"
stuck in this shell that is my hell
and now the painting is on the wall. and you peering down on me
AND I'M SORRY, OKAY? I just realized today.....
and now please put away those eyes that are scrutinizing this path that I'm realizing.
thank you........ thank you...... thank you......
I wrote that poem when I was 13 years old after a drunken suicide attempt. I was crying hysterically and slit everywhere imaginable and empty bottles of pills were everywhere and I just wouldn't die. I was so scared. I was scared of my feelings. And I thought I'd never be able to deal with it.
I got older and I got used to the emptiness and the secretiveness of it all. It still hurt but I dealt with it better. Two years went by and I never told anyone. My friends all seriously suspected me of being gay. My family seriously suspected me of being gay. I just shoved myself even harder back in the closet.
Then one day, I moved. New school, new friends. No one knew me. No one who had grown up with me and played legos and She-Ra and spin the bottle when we got older was there to say, "You mean she's really is a dyke???"
I met a girl named Rachel a few weeks ago. Rachel, it seems to me, is very insightful. One day we were talking and she said she had to ask because "it's the 90s and you got to know." She asked me if I was bisexual. I smiled so big and said "yes" and felt so good about myself. Then the regret came. What if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore? What if she tells everyone? What if everyone hears? Well, it turns out she too is bi. Great! I spent last Wednesday at her house. We just hung out and watched a movie. She's an awesome girl. And being out to at least one person is the best thing in the world. I could watch the TV and see a pretty girl and not feel like a pervert and just say, "oh, she's cute," and that was the coolest thing I've ever done. What a rush.
Back in Houston, I had had the largest crush on my friend Nikki for several months. Nikki is the sweetest girl I have ever met. My friend Josh, even though I have never told him I am bisexual, saw through me like always and even mentioned that he knew I liked Nikki. I rolled my eyes at him. Well, the latest news is Nikki has a boyfriend. That's a funky feeling. Hmm...
Friday night, I went to a party with my sister at her friend's house. I wasn't suppose to drink but ended up getting royally wasted anyway. My sister didn't seem to mind because I was in a houseful of adults she trusted. Me and her friend Eric had been hanging out all night talking about how drunk we were. The next thing I remember is walking out in the back yard with him. Then I blacked out. Then I remember putting my pants back on and my sister's friends yelling at him. Everyone was really mad at him because he is 27 and bisexual (while I see very little what his sexuality had to do with it, that's the reason they were upset) and "taking advantage of a 15-year-old drunk kid."
The next morning, he had left and my sister was pissed. When I finally managed to convince everyone we didn't have sex, things calmed down. I heard from the girl who found us. She says he's really depressed and feels awful and wants to kill himself. So I feel awful again because he feels terrible. It's a big mess. It's Monday now and I still haven't heard anything. I don't think he's ever going to talk to me again and even though my sister says she's not mad at him, I think I jeopardized their relationship. I feel awful.
I wanted to share this because I need to talk about it, but I can't tell any of my friends because they'd either think he hurt me or give me a speech and make me feel even shittier. I know I need to be more careful and this teaches me a lesson... maybe one I've had to learn too many times... maybe one I've had to teach too many times. I feel horrid because I think I ruined this guy's friendship with my sister and I think I've ruined a part of him. I think the reason I haven't heard anything from him is because he might think I like him, which is horrible because NEVER in a million years could I ever see myself even having the slightest crush on this man. And now I know if he ever does talk to me again it's going to be extremely awkward. Blah. Enough of my whining this issue, if anyone has any bitching, pissing, moaning, talking to do, email me ... my eyes are open and stuff.