Thrice Thinking Twice

Wake Up.
No Response
Summer days are becoming almost as lonely as Summer nights.
How do you make the constant broken record of bullshit stop in your brain.

"He doesn't want you!"
"Get over it."
"You let him do that to you."
"You don't deserve to be happy."
"Whore."
"Fat Whore."
"You Monster!"
"I am unprotected. I am vulnerable. I lack protection. I will never be safe. Only safe behind my walls of protection. And yes it's lonely. But I'd rather be lonely than be hurt again."
"He's gonna hurt you even though he says he doesn't want to."


I need to get away.
It's not that love hurts. It's just I've never felt real love before.
How can one be secure in themselves when they've never felt the warmth of real love.
What I thought was a glimpse of real love was only a fucked way of saying I wanna fuck.

"It's all over now."

This is what adulthood has become.
A lonely fucked up world of no one responding to your most vulnerable text messages. 
They tell you to open up. You demand that they get over that idea because you know what happens when you open doors. 
You end up having a lot of fun drinking with friend until it's time to lay alone again in an empty ass apartment with a mean shit head of a cat. You lay down your head. You try to close your eyes. Turn off all the lights. Set your alarm because even though you don't have work there's a lot of work to do. OCD. Germaphobe. In and out. Up and Down.... "Women are all over the place..Most of them anyway."
You toss your pillows. You switch pillows. You hug pillows. You punch your pillows.  You get angry and then
BAM!!!!!!!
All the thoughts of all things you said when you opened up come in like fucking flood behind a broken dam and your world is upside down again.
You fucking whore.
You dirty disgusting whore.
You are a horrible person.
He doesn't love you.
You're so pathetic.
And then the gates let in the flood to point your stomach is turning from all the pain.
Broken heart.
Broken childhood.
Broken Brain.
You text because you were told,"I'll always be there for you. "
No one responds.
You cry harder. Begging the universe for a fucking escape. Where are the pills? You don't have any. There's nothing to take this pain away. Nothing!
Where's the broken glass?
You threw it all away.
Where's the blade?
Oh, wait! You're not supposed to do that, right?
So you send someone else a text. The last one you opened up to. No response.
Time to cry harder I suppose.
No one "really" fucking cares.
You're just left to rot in your fucking tears at 26 years old crying over fucked up shit that happened to you when you were 5 and when you tried to fucking grow up at 14.

GROW THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKING SORRY ASS CUNT BAG!

 Wake up in the morning with hopes in the god forsaken Universe that everything will be okay in the morning.
You wake up [alone]. You get up [alone].  You make your way into the kitchen to finish the project you started a week ago.  And then BAM! All hope is gone again. The universe and the world has let you down again.

No Response.
No change.
No smile.
No reason.
Just the same fucking broken record replaying the same fucking song.

I just wanna hold me breath until I pass out. Preferably under water.
I wanna disappear. Show this world just how fucking invisible I can really be.

I give up.
I miss the sweet little girl who used to wake up at 5 a.m. and exercise.
The one who set rules on herself. Who had dreams. Who had hopes.

I hate this brainwashed, bitter, angry woman I've become. If I could slit her throat, I would.

Just a heads up...
The world doesn't have patience for the hurt ones. 

Pain fucking sucks.


You begin to clean. You see him.
"Are you okay?"
[in my mind I say," That would have been more of a legitimate question last night or this morning before you got dressed, don't you think?]
But what you really say is," Just fucking grand!"
"Cheer up."
"Oh, yeah overnight."




You are still alone.
Always alone.
Alone, to live your fucked up misery.
No one wants to hear your problems.
I hope I get hit by a fucking bus.


-Lr.

P.S. Think THRICE before you open your heart. Think a million times before you ever reveal your most painful secrets because exactly what you thought was going to happen, does.

It's a matter of time before I end up fucking committed.

I have no room for anyone in my life anymore.

I have no more room for more pain.

Enough is enough.