Casile Naomi

Grief. Loss. Pain. Depression. It all really really sucks, and it all really really hurts. I've been thinking a lot lately how I feel guilty for being so broken and sad and depressed over a breakup. I mean, when it comes down to it it's just a breakup right? Big deal, who cares, you'll heal, move on and forget about it. At least that's what you think everyone is thinking. The first month or couple months sure, cry, weep, eat ice cream and chocolate and talk to your friends because you need someone there. But eventually, people move on from your grief, and they expect you to too. You love your friends and you know they love you, but you eventually get tired of being the sad one, the needy one, the lonely one, the damaged one, and the broken one. So you stop. Or at least you stop showing it. It's like we feel ashamed of our emotional state because we feel like we should be over it by now; that enough time has passed and that we aren't supposed  to feel this way an...

We’re outside in the fading cold just wanting to light the candle. Neither of us have a match, the weights too much to handle. Always pour the water out, sometimes a splash too fast. Running our core dry sometimes, just thinking it won’t last. Always thought these were sturdy grounds, then it started to shake, Turns out we were the foundation, under too much weight. Don’t know I’m sorry, but I feel it every time. When I see all the depletion, Know part of the fault is mine. Made of a sturdy sort, a kind that couldn’t be bent, but when the light hits just right, I see we left some dents.

some kind of pathetic it is to still be in love with you to still miss you to still wish you cared to still let you use me to still allow you to hurt me to still want you to still cry for you to still hurt for you to still care for you to still pray for you to still wonder about you to still dream about you to still worry for you to still crave good things for you to still think about you to still smile about you to still remember the good you to still believe it's all my fault to still be stuck in this heartache.

do you ever feel like no one even knows you? like, everyone has this idea of you, and if you could see yourself through their eyes you would be looking at a total stranger? does anyone even know you, like, know know you… i feel like no one knows me. and i don’t mean that in a ‘bitchhhh y’all don’t know me way’, i mean it in a sad, failing myself and everyone around me kind of way. i feel like i got fucked up somewhere along the way and don’t know how to make it all okay again. like i’ve just been doggy paddling for fucking ever trying to keep my head above the water and i’m getting fucking exhausted. i can’t remember the last time i was 100% truly and genuinely happy. or the last time i hung out with someone and felt 100% myself, open, vulnerable and just, free. does that make any sense? i feel like i’ve become broke, and un-loveable. not that i think i’m a piece of shit or anything, but just that i feel so lost and without direction or aim that no one will ever find me, because i can...

Plant me a tree out of history and space. Lend me smile when I run out of pace. Burn down the wick when the brick takes my place, I wanna go back to the dirt. Write me a letter when there aren’t any notes. Paint me a bridge when there aren’t any boats. Pull out a chair when the tables bare nodes, take me back to the heart. It’s all depleted but it’s loved and it’s seeded. We’re all depleted but we love and we’re needed. Tell me a tale when the novels are gone. Show me a river when the water won’t run. Sing me a song, I’ll sing along till it’s done. I wanna go back to the start

I curl up often
Feeling one layer roll over and mask the other is comforting to me. It’s familiar. 
I rarely open up and show but when I do I’m vulnerable and vast. You could kill me. 
You held me long enough that each layer receded until you saw just me, and now I’m left here, raw and scarred and bleeding. I hurt too much to curl, to hide. 
Is this what you wanted? To take each hope I had, to steal my self worth and self love. To diminish any chance I had at trusting another. You engulfed the trust I had, not only in you but in humans like me and you, how can I tell good from bad now, real from fake. I can’t. You got what you wanted now leave- so I can eventually pull my pieces together, lick my wounds clean and recede into myself to never be opened again, until the next time I’m destroyed all over, by another just like you.