Safe Place

This is a blog of sorts. I dump things here and look back at them when I want to reflect. If anyone ever stumbles upon it, you're welcome to stay a while and chat, leave comments or whatever.

Loneliness is Just Another Way for Misery to Get into Your Head

Why do I feel so damned awful when I go too long without a good thorough conversation with a loved one?

I feel so lonely when I feel like no one really cares about what's inside me, or even care enough to share with me what they have inside them. 

Every day there's something different happening. There's endless things to talk about. But people don't seem to be as much of a friend as I wish. They don't show that they care enough. No one does anymore. I don't know. I help other people with things because I'm their friend and I genuinely care about them. I don't expect them to always be there for me in return, because that's basically impossible. But simple things... Like listening to what I have to say, or texting me and asking how I'm doing... I wish people could show that they appreciate me.

Just a little bit.

Not to return any "favors", because that's not what I was ever looking for. But to show that you care about me as much as I care about you. Because the love I have for you needs to be fulfilled, and I can't just love you but not see it requited. It's just so, so painful. I wish I could see that you care about me. Because I need you to. I have too much love and I care too much. And it hurts.

Come back to me, my love.

My eyes are open.

My hands are searching the dark,

Trying to find you.

I truly love you,

My heart aches with thoughts of you.

 It's longing for you.

I would give the world,

Give up everything I have,

Just to see you now.

I want to hold you,

Kiss you, and make love to you,

Breathe you in tonight.

You're out of this world;

You don't have to be perfect

To be my angel.

Keep getting stronger,

Don't let the tide drown you out.

I am always here.

 

 

 

The Little Things...

Yesterday my friend (who doesn't know of my struggles with dysphoria) asked me, "Why are you walking like a boy?"

 

I was a bit taken aback, and really complemented at the same time. Because I really wasn't trying to, I just naturally came off that way. I told her, "It must be the boy clothes, 'cause I've always walked this way." 

 

 

When I'm with you, I stay true to myself.

With you... I feel right.

When your hand is squeezing mine,

I can find the sun in the night.

 

I could write a thousand poems,

And spend the rest of my life

thinking about you,

Because you are my home, 

and those thoughts belong in my head.

 

My body is useless

Until it's against yours'.

Your touch weakens me,

Reflecting the vulnerability of my heart.

 

This love is something intangible:

As the threads of the universe

It is sensed without senses.

To love from the deepest crevice...

My strongest weakness,

My darkest secret.

The feeling's convoluted-- 

A fear that's rooted

In chastise and exclusion

Prevent from stepping forward--

From loving deep,

and loving true.

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I don't know what to do now

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I just don't know what to do anymore.

I can see love in the eye of the storm,

But I could be capsized-- and drowned in the sea--

Before that love could ever reach me.

 

I just can't tell if I'm already submerged--

If the crashing waves have me overturned.

Is the storm made of fear, or is it repression?

Does it come from within, or an outer tension?

 

This question is a cancer.

Am I ready to hear the answer?

I'll just imagine my ship sailing on,

Until-- at last-- I can see the crack of dawn.

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