Casile Naomi

I don’t stand a chance against this rain. I'll have to close my eyes on this again. The mixed cd and the flowers in the attic. Forget what it felt like, but it was awhile back. The hope that maybe someday I will heal, in a way that maybe this time karma won’t steal. I missed it in the winter and the fall, hoped summer would end the circular wall. But it’s May and it just started to snow, So I'm guessing it will take awhile to know. 

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.

If you could love me I would want to play ping-pong with you in nothing but our underwear occasionally making love on the rocking table I would want to eat clementines with you on a patio in the middle of the day while drinking a corona with lime I would want to pull an all-nighter with you reading comics and watching disney movies and then sleep all day and see the sun hit your face I would want to get in the car with your mixed cd's and just start driving and stop at every field or beautiful thing we see just to say we went together I would want to make art with you while wearing one of your button down shirts and end up making a mess and wiping paint off each others faces I would want to go to a rave where we know no one and get ridiculously drunk together maybe slide off my underwear on the dance floor and throw them at you when no one was looking I would want to grab your face and tell you that you are beautiful, and not be talking about your looks and you look b...

The bare-boned city The stench and aroma of regret, and failure. The stench of love lost. The dream that was lit and extinguished with the same hands that built the hope of a future. The landmarks are laughing, taunting with their eyes that follow the dragging feet around the same paths two once walked. Now one, but broken and dismembered, in the belly of the beast that was once the source of energy and life, is now dead, and dying.

He's hanging out with someone else. Apparently not 'seeing' someone else, but still. I wonder if she makes him happy. If she's smarter than me. Cooler than me. Prettier than me. Funnier than me. I wonder if there are things about her that he likes that I never had. He has been so horrible to me. I don't know if it's because he thinks I deserve it, or if he truly and honestly just does not give two shits about me any more, and if he's doing it to try and make me hate him, like he said. I get glimpses of the guy I fell in love with every time I see him, most times, anyway. I wonder sometimes if we tried again if it would be different. And then I get mad at myself for wondering that. I'm mad at myself for still loving someone who doesn't and will not love me back. I miss his family. I miss Bruce and I miss Connie, and Scott and Chris and Tina, and Ruby and Tux. I miss the life we COULD have had together. I keep remembering all these moments when i...

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 open. 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. 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 like you.

You know when you first wake up and for 2 seconds you forget that everything is so fucked up. And then you realize it and it all falls on you and you feel like you can’t breathe. Fuck those 2 seconds. They’re mean. I liked sleeping alone. Until you made it feel like punishment. 

We are all mangled up. Inside ourselves. The images we showed, for years, that started to turn to static. I loved your pictures, seamlessly running together making a smooth film that I would have watched, forever. But with no sound accompanying, I started to realize- as beautiful as you were, I would never understand.

I’ll refurbish the rusting the chair once I deny the pouring rain but one thing I will then deny is the fact that I’ll ever sit again

Confession: I like to solve other people’s problems because they seem easier than my own. Is this bad? If so? Help? How do I do other things? I am terrible at being selfish and I like that and it fucks me. Can you be selfless and take care of yourself at the same time? This is the paradox in which I live. I just want to be perfect is all. But really, totally a daily question for me. “What does selflessness require and will pride in this dishonour my soul?” is like, my waking thought. Every day. Well, in my situation I realized that it’s pretty depressing that I’m willing to sacrifice my own happiness just to make other people happy, I used to think that was an honourable thing, that I was so selfless, but when I realized that I’d been doing it for 8 years of my life, I realized that it was cowardly. Consciously choosing to not be happy, just to save myself the guilt of hurting someone else. I think in small doses it’s respectable, but in the larger scale of things, selfishness is ...

"I am just a no one, I’m the same as every one. Spinning underneath the sun, head between my knees. I belong to no one, I am a minimum. Rolling into bigger sums adding them to me" Born Ruffians- Needle

Are you a guilty pleasure? Ashamed but so excited, you make my pulse feel rested instead of it’s typical off-time thumps. A dream that’s under-tones seem unforgiving, a constant fear of the seams being stretched too far and it all unravelling, leaving me alone again amongst all my messy endings.  Do I know what I am doing, am I on the right track, or is there a picture I am not seeing, that if I did would make me blush because I am the reason. I have been all along, ruining things then running away broken and sad. Did I do it all to myself?

I don’t know what I’ve done Or if I like what I’ve begun But something told me to run And honey, you know me, it’s all or none There were sounds in my head Little voices whispering That I should go and this should end Oh, and I found myself listening 'Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you All I know is that I should And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you All I know is that I should 'Cause she will love you more than I could She who dares to stand where I stood See, I thought love was black and white That it was wrong or it was right But you aren’t leaving without a fight And I think, I am just as torn inside 'Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you All I know is that I should And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you All I know is that I should 'Cause she will love you more than I could She who dares to stand where I stood And I won’t be far from where you are if ever you should call You meant more ...

The sadness overwhelms at times, underwhelming the smallest fraction, hours, minutes, nights of a happiness that I cannot seem to hold for a significant amount of time. It always slips away. I physically let go but it’s still pulling- attempts to purge the pain out of my chest, attempts, are made, but you always come creeping back. Images always come lurking in, of you, of us, of this thing that was unattainable. An end goal that got lost in the mix of two hearts, morphing into a darkness that we could not see. I wonder if I could go back, and do it all over, would you love me? Would it ever be enough to simply know, to assume, that you always had the best intentions. Time is lost to us, and I’m losing more time now, even without you.  How can I move on when even the change of the seasons, smell like you, hold pieces of us. Particles that I see slowly melting, having to kiss them goodbye every day. It’s never ending.

Dear Casile, You’re a little bit lost right now, and that’s okay. You gave a lot and poured all your heart into a relationship, into a boy, that couldn’t love you back the way you needed. There’s nothing wrong with missing that, that feeling of safeness, and butterflies, mystery and familiarity. There’s nothing wrong with still being in love with someone who doesn’t and wouldn’t love you back. There is, though, something wrong with the guilt you carry around, for feeling like you couldn’t make him happy enough, or that you couldn’t save him from the darkness he wouldn’t even admit he retreated into. You apologized for the way you hurt him, and you meant it, and you genuinely wish you could do things differently than you did, but you did the best you knew how. You didn’t want to leave, so you had to leave running. He’ll understand that one day. You needed him to need you back, you needed him to let you all the way in, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that, there’s nothing wrong...

I can't figure out which is harder. Trying to go to bed without you, or waking up without you. Still loving you, and you not loving me.

All I can do is smoke cigarettes. Watch movies. Buy Kleenex. Think about eating. Hold my stomach. Cry in the shower. Cry in my bed. Shake my head. Cave and message you, again. Pretend to be okay. Get drunk. Talk to strangers. Try not to think of you. I always think of you. Wish yoh were here. Remember the memories. Try to remember to forget. Keep telling myself you don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me.

I didn't know my sacrifice would lead to silence and endless fights, I gave it up for you. I didn't know the wind and cold, meant drunk in bars without goals, you had one beside you. I didn't know the darkness grows when either person refuses to show, who they were without you. I didn't know the pain it'd cause to swallow my heart and clench my jaws to walk away from you. I didn't know the city lights meant lonely nights without you. I didn't know it'd been sixth months, since I walked away. Sixth months since I never heard you say, you wanted me to stay.

It's been exactly 6 months since we broke up, I don't even think he realizes. Or cares. I loved him for 8 years and it still wasn't enough Everyone thinks I'm the one who's better off because I ended it. They're all wrong. He's happy, and over it. He didn't lose his friends. He isn't completely alone. I am. I poured every inch of myself into that relationship and then was forced to end it... does no one get that? I've been depressed for 6 months, struggling with the will to survive and he is FINE. Yeah I'm bitter. What happened to "You're my everything" what happened to "I will always love you, no matter what?" Cause I fucking meant that... did he not?

The pain is in the exhale.  Releasing my love, You would not set free.  The pain is in the inhale.  Absorbing the new; the without you I didn’t want to know.  The pain is in the effort it takes to go to sleep  without the comfort of your arms and breath.  The pain is in the struggle to put my feet on the floor; the next step in the marathon of my life without you.  The pain is in the smile, hiding the scream and tears; proof that I’m not ok.  The pain is in the look you failed to give me, when I walked away; the abruptness of you closing your heart to me.  The pain is in the fear that I’ll never love another, I loved you so well.  Could I have been better? The pain is in the “you’ll be fine“‘s My reluctant nod that I know is a lie.  They do not understand. The pain is in the not knowing.  Will you be okay without us? Either answer would break me.  Either answer would make me cry.  The pain is in the goodbye.

I've often cursed my heart for being "too big". The amount I care about people is sometimes crippling, sometimes even a little self destructive. I always put others before myself, which is occasionally a bad thing. People always say you need to help yourself before you can help others, and I do believe that. But I will always be a lover and a giver. If you show me your heart, even for a second, I will care about you unconditionally. If you treat me like crap, and break promises, and take me for granted, I may not put up with you, but I will still, regardless, and sometimes like a fool, care about you. I see the best in people, and people often say it's a bad thing. But right now I feel like saying "fuck it". This isn't mean to sound egotistic, but I like to think there's people like me out in the world for a reason.  "If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me" - W.H. Auden