cyclesofsara-blog - Tumblr blog

[cyclesofsara-blog]

Second grade Started becoming Brittanie My mom wanted me to be someone else I never felt comfortable in my skin Starting new was hard I didn't feel like a person I lied to be liked Because I didn't know what else to say What would it feel like  If my mom liked me the way I was If my dad listened without preaching If he stood behind me- not against me I might want to listen I might want to learn I might choose who I let hurt me I might choose who my friends were I might think the world was okay Something happened that I can't recall Where She died  And her corpse has been choosing everything The world became dark and scary Thoughts because twisted I can still be the little girl that you all liked so much Pleasing, sweet, obedient Playing with Elle No one let me play super smash I got one try All you did was laugh I snapped once She got to defend herself, briefly  I was ridiculed I was teary Shelley didn't like me- I was clingy I wanted to be loved Kyle wouldn't look at me But rather refer to me, as a joke I tried too hard I was always upset and no one knew why I didn't know why It's come down to whether or not I'm brave enough to let her speak again

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[cyclesofsara-blog]

The car

Nothing has changed since meeting him nearly nine months ago. I still can’t seem to overcome these giddy and shy feelings. Like a school girl, holding hands- or being “exclusive”with someone for the first time. I sat in the front seat of his car. It started to rain. He talked, I nodded appropriately, focused thoroughly, and laughed at all of his cute and subtle jokes. We watched videos on his phone about things that he is interested in, like, material science and nuclear explosions. I’ll admit, I was interested in the topic, but I could hardly focus through the timidness and self doubt. An ad came on his phone about valentines day. “Oh yeah- when is valentines day? Do you do that?” he said. I was so caught off guard. Was he voluntarily bringing up a topic that could potentially lead him into a trap that he would rather have avoided? I shrugged my shoulders. “I don't know.” I responded in an abrupt manner. I was hoping the subject wouldn't change. I was hoping that he would somehow know that by shrugging my shoulders, I really meant, “I have never had a meaningful valentines day. In fact, I’ve never even been in love and I have never truly been loved by someone. Forget my parents, not even a boyfriend. No I have never ‘done’ valentines day but I sure would fucking like to!!??” Yes... somehow, he would know; and he would begin to formulate his plan to surprise me on valentines day. His plan would not include roses or chocolates (that come in a heart shaped box, in which i would eat only one or two of the ‘good’ kind. Then the rest would sit and harden for weeks, until eventually, all my groceries run out and I'm desperate for chocolate) It would include a song he wrote for me, or a confession of how he actually feels, or maybe it would just include him wanting to know who I am. Then again, doesn't he already? As two pals ate cheeseburgers and watched youtube videos of nuclear explosions, I couldn't help but think “An hour earlier, you were inside me and I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of love, as I do each time Im with you.” Perhaps it was the oxytocin talking. “How I hate this friends with benefits. I mold myself to you, unwillingly!” I thought. I melt. I become fragile and week. A combination of his tall and dark features, thick hair, innocent smile, intelligence, mystery, and the musky, metal scent that was always lingering on him from his job as a welding inspector, held me hostage on day one. Three cheers to being pals.