planetzorbnog

[planetzorbnog]

everything around me

is breaking apart

and i cannot hold anything

for too long,

i cannot handle the temporary nature,

i cannot handle the change,

how do i cope

with the changing nature

of life?

[planetzorbnog]

‘Love is an organic thing. It rots and softens.’

Words by Clementine Von Radics

[planetzorbnog]

[planetzorbnog]

i am lost in the forest,

being consumed by the greenery,

while the outside world

melts away,

and i feel like

so many things are happening;

can i keep up?

my life is changing,

starting a new adventure,

trying to mend wounds,

and i noticed the age in my skin,

and the time in my face,

and as i stare at the mirror,

i ask myself if i am up for this;

can i can i can i?

can i do this?

can i fix this?

will i survive this?

[planetzorbnog]

i love you, it looks like rain, june gehringer

[planetzorbnog]

he makes me feel like air,

treats me like a queen,

when the nine years of grief

and pain

fell from my eyes,

he did not turn away.

rather,

like in a fairytale,

he held me,

at my most vulnerable.

i love watching him sing

opm baby,

or discuss his interests,

or hold onto me

or anything he does.

after expecting disappointment

over and over again,

i think my luck is changing

for the better.

[planetzorbnog]

i have come mostly to terms

of the sentence for my societal crimes,

and i can only hope things can heal,

but i realized that i’m not the actual problem.

rather,

it’s their problem

for chasing after me

like it’s a witch hunt

and this is salem

in 1619.

it isn’t fair;

it really isn’t.

and i can only hope

that things can heal

and i can make up

for my societal crimes.

[planetzorbnog]

sometimes i think

i am only familiar with toxic love

because with healthy love

i’m afraid

i’ll make the love toxic.

[planetzorbnog]

when i get quite suicidal,

i think about how people

who have only seen the good in me

would cry at my funeral,

and part of me stays

because i do not want to see them cry,

like my latin teacher,

who would probably shed a tear,

not understanding why,

and part of me stays

because i am too cowardly to go through

with the act.

[planetzorbnog]

in my euphoric daze

i came to the obvious conclusions

and realized i wasn’t really in the wrong:

trumped up charges ;

an excuse to get rid of me ;

a witch hunt ;

fake friends ;

i was gaslit into hating myself

when really

they just hated… me!

but when my eyes were saucers,

the whole situation came to fruition

and once the facts come out,

i hope to receive some apologies.

[planetzorbnog]

the loss of friends and the ostracization

are like the stages of grief:

d enial of the situation

ba rgaining to be forgiven

ang er at those who were my “friends”

depr ession by the loss and false accusations

accep tance when you realize you will move on.

it hurts,

and i never fully reached acceptance.

i pray that i may get my name cleared,

as i hate being the villain in a community’s storybook.

[planetzorbnog]

i find another loss,

i look up at the moon,

while the tears want to come out,

the beauty of the moon pulls me forward.

the moon is my sole companion,

my friend in my time of need,

the one that has stayed by my side.

i wish to become one with the moon,

its lover,

its sole companion.

while others treat me guilty

without proving it,

and the weight of the pain hurts.

i know i fucked up,

but that’s not the whole story,

if only people gave me a chance

to explain…

if only;

be like the moon,

the unjudgemental eye.

[planetzorbnog]

i am angry

that i am dragged through the mud

again

and again

and again,

i am angry

that i am the one to be angry with

for trumped up charges,

for things i didn’t do.

i fucked up,

but i deserve an apology,

for how you treated me.

i wanna scream at you,

tell you you’re wrong,

show the evidence,

save us both.

alas,

alas,

alas,

evil currently wins.

[planetzorbnog]

when they switch up on you,

it is almost like a gut punch,

because i chose to believe

rather than to lie

and i saw the evidence

with my own eyes,

yet i’m the creep

for knowing the truth

and i am acosted

for my mistake.

real ones stay,

fake ones go,

i hope one day

they all apologize.

[planetzorbnog]

it is an interesting feeling

migrating from the observer

to the experiencer

and fully understanding the libeling

and slandering

of someone’s name,

to see the consequences and the pain

caused by that,

especially to someone who is just

like

you.

and it hits deep into my soul

when this happened,

the experience feeling unreal,

and the desire to help as much as possible

surfacing.

the world is cruel and unfair,

and those who are the kindest

seem to get hurt the most.

[planetzorbnog]

sometimes i feel like a nymph to men,

sometimes a demon,

sometimes nothing at all,

and sometimes simultaneously

all of it at once,

and i cannot see the appeal of “me”:

bland,

boring,

old,

odd,

eccentric,

expressive (to a fault)

soft

simple

these are words i use to describe myself

when a black void seems to be too vague,

or when i have no idea who i even am.

i fail to comprehend

what makes “me” great.

[planetzorbnog]

i’m destroying the couch

once again,

with small crease lines

from my feet pulling the fabric

now visible,

and the youth of the couch is gone,

as well as its value and desirability.

i relate to the couch,

as i feel dull and alone,

worn and torn,

a hollow shell of someone

i forgot

a long time ago,

and i am waiting to see

if i have a desire to find myself

or go back to hold habits of indulgement

to forget that i’ve forgotten.