Murdered

I murdered a girl.
I murdered that girl who laughed like there was no end to her happiness. I hurt the girl who believed in people, who thought her loved ones would never hurt. The girl who believed that lost who love her are the ones who will protect her. I murdered her the day I told her, only she can protect herself.

I murdered a girl.
I murdered her faith in older men, those who'd constantly want her for themselves. I slaughtered her need to fight, defend and debate it all out. I figured she'd be safe if she showed ignorance. If she'd kindly walk out without a hint of drama. I was wrong.

I murdered a girl.
I murdered her need to learn from her wounds. What slowly died was the shadow of assurance. I sold to her facts like bad days will end without ever reminding her about the end of good days. I killed the girl who once collected coins, stamps, postcards and friendship bands. She now collects herself and scars.

I murdered a girl.
I murdered that little child in her who wanted to play in her lawn, swing fearlessly, slide down laughing, circle away to glory. It's all dead now. She now plays with fire, swings her moods around, slides down to absolute failure and forms circles with the smoke that she let's out.

I murdered the one girl that could be.
I murdered me.

To be expressed

It's this. You caught me at a time when I was numb, for everything. Numb. I felt nothing, I was neutral to everything, until you happened. You know how when everything is bland and one thing starts to excite you, you see yourself driving towards it. That's what happened.

I was done with everything and then you happened. I see myself wanting to tell you everything, about myself, the world around me, my thoughts and wanting to get the same back from you.

Because I was getting it. It seemed thrilling and exciting. Now, you've started to grow into a habit. A bad habit.

I see you living your life, one moment at a time and I'm just ranting my world out to you, silently hoping you're listening.
Only to realize you're in a different mind frame. You have newer things that excite you and I have now taken a backseat. Which is fine, but I'm still there. Nothing else has happened yet that can excite me as much as you have.

Multiple messages make sense if there is a conversation. But now, it feels like spam, it feels like every time you check your phone, you have 30-40 messages of just rattle, without even knowing how to respond to any of them. You're trying but there is only so much you can do. You shouldn't do more than this. You should have the time of your life. These are the only six months that you have, and your life will change, again!

I have too many unbalanced energies and my way of letting them all out is by expressing it from my gut. No filter. None. What I'm doing is instead of sharing my emotions or days with you, I'm lashing them all out on you. Fortunately I haven't gotten to a stage where you're responsible for my happiness, but I'm scared I'll get there. I want to protect you from me Sushane, I do. I know everything I've been doing is not affecting you as much. That speaks very highly of your threshold to acceptance and how kind you are. But that doesn't explain why I should be allowed to behave like this. It's not right. What I'm doing to you is unhealthy and I see it. I do.

I need to figure another way of channeling my energies and not treat you like an escape route. That makes me a disrespectful fuck, and it's sick! I have never behaved like this, this is the first time I'm witnessing myself in such a state of emotional delusion. I'm a scattered heart and I struggle to settle for something. I'm constantly yearning for more. But I'll work on it.

After the bachelorette

Nope, I was married. He called it off after the bachelorette.
With no sign of remorse, friend of thunder, brother of the storm, the menial task of ignorance.

I stood there, frozen. Melting in my own ice. Cold. Warm. Absolute. Stale. Over. Out.
Bitterness, expanding. Faith, shrinking.

I felt like a collection of broken glass. Cut. Bleeding every time I tried to fix it. Only waiting for it to shatter. Again.

He was a really good stripper. He stripped his soul away. Left with nothing to lose. He stripped me off my dignity, I lost. The only stone I treasured.

I was married. He called it off after that bachelorette. I walk now. In cracks. Untimely coordinated. I'm now glad he left then. I killed our child. No trace. Goodbye.