glue.

decorating my walls with impressions of my fists in remembrance of your face has been a recurring thought for some time now.

but i cant blame you for the impact you made on me, only the impression you left with me. i fell in love with the idea of love because at the time, it was what i thought i needed. words of my mother echo in my head, "you have to love yourself before you can love anybody else. do you love yourself, ashley? or is this a facade? be happy baby. momma loves you either way."

i treated you like a replacement for her, drawn from the lust that we once shared and your impeccable timing. i fell so hard and so fast. your empty promises tasted so good with my emptiness. i was so weak that i thought your intentions were pure, when in reality they were just as selfish as my own. its been nearly a year since i aided you in the shattering of my heart, but dont feel bad. my heart was already in pieces when you found it. i was fool for thinking you were the glue. its true. you shouldve just left me where you found me.

i am my glue.

maze.

the past year has felt like a score and then some. unsettled at that. day in and day out i think. i think and think and think and yet it seems as though im not thinking at all. unable to categorize thoughts let alone decipher them. so badly i wish that i could call my mother and receive her sultry, unconventional, unconditional advice. so badly i wish that i could thank you one more time. so badly i wish that you could tell me that nothing is wrong with me.

nothing is ever what it seems, even when you dont know what it is youre looking at. the pieces of me are scattered about the universe with him, her and them, but the biggest piece is with you. wherever you are. that big chunk of love in my life is no longer. the vacancy left by you is incomparable. there is no sedative.

not knowing where to go from here, i need you now more than ever.

I'm done. But it's not over.

It annoys me that so many people lack humility. I'm not perfect and I know I have flaws, but I can't take the blame for everything just because the next person doesn't want to. Accepting responsibility for how your actions bleed into other people's lives and beings is a form of respect. But people are so selfish. Everybody wants to take credit for helping people but never for hurting them. Do you ever notice that? Take take take; only giving when necessary to take. I've wasted so much time trying to help others when I could barely help myself. Giving so much I've started losing myself. I'll be 25 in a month and a half and something has to change. My spirit is tired.

sometimes i feel so strong that i feel weak.
something is missing.
when do you know you're whole?
i feel so empty; so unhappy.
something is missing.

Power

Dazed
Everything has the potential to aggravate my nerves; my soul.
Yet, only I have the POWER to do so.
Potential vs. Power
"... No one man should have all that power ..."

I pity the fool

the mutual feeling has lost its way
in matters of love, loyalty & respect, I feel there is confusion
these things should not be burdens nor blackmail
more natural and unconscious
if today you woke up as cynical as yesterday, I pity you
if your bad outweighs your good, I pity you
if you cannot openly love, respect and live in loyalty, I pity you
is your world so small that you can afford to be that naive and selfish?
AHA! I PITY YOU! fool ;)

so much on my mind I don't know where to start
my phone in my hand and a bearing on my heart
clouding my vision navigating dark skies
never in my life have I felt so alive
the rush of uncertainty
the sting of regret
what, with my life, am I gonna do next?

Ambiguous

At what point do we transcend the grey area between selfishness, and selflessness? Is it not righteously essential to success to do so? Is it possible, for both you and your peers to rest assured your best interests are served?
In separate stages of my life I have found it necessary to be either or; selfish or selfless. At either end of the playing field you'll find yourself on the offense, struggling for confidence in your defense, often times praying for the sack from a higher power in the form of answers.
Is there success in the ambiguity of this purgatory?

By definition.

At seventeen I was sure that I knew what love was.
I thought it was irreplaceable
Incomparable even.
However, right now, at 130 am on January 8 of this new year, I can no longer say that that is so.
Why?
Because for this new love, for our love, I'd take back every milligram of love I've ever given and set flame to it all, as I watch the smoke that was my past disappear into the nights sky.
No survivors.
That, is incomparable.