requiemforesteem-blog

[requiemforesteem-blog]

mother nature’s gift

I’ve never wanted my period to come sooner in my life. I cherish knowing that I won’t be carrying a human in my body. It’s comforting. It gives me an excuse to not have sex. Right now menstruation sounds like a vacation. I want it now. I want to bleed. I want my eggs to die.

I miss hating my period.

[requiemforesteem-blog]

paranoid

I hate this.

It’s eating me up inside.

I hate constantly having to worry about this.

I do this to myself, and I hate myself for it.

This makes me hate sex.

I’m an idiot for not being on the pill, and having unprotected sex.

I took a plan b pill, and I feel like my body is tricking me.

It’s playing me.

And it’s getting the best of me.

I’m terrified.

I’m getting on the pill.

I have an appointment on Monday.

I can’t do this to myself anymore.

My heart is racing, I’m sick to my stomach, and the stress is giving me a 

Head ache.

I don’t want to have sex anymore.

1/27/2017

[requiemforesteem-blog]

sex

I’ve had sex with two different men this week. The first was a 20 year old caucasian man who was as handsome as can be. He had beautiful green eyes, an athletic body, and a sad soul. He kissed me as though I was the solution to all of his problems. He used words like “fuck” to describe what we were doing. Sex with him felt like something someone does to you. He asked me if I came. 

I lied.

When we were done he started talking about how much he hated it when people were awkward after sex. He gave me a high five. I didn’t understand why he did, neither did I care. It was 1AM, and I asked him to drive me home. On the car ride home he asked me if I had ever been fishing, and asked if I’d like to go with him sometime. He also asked me to dinner. I said ok. We have a lot of history. We used to work together. 

He didn’t cum inside of me. 

I’m paranoid.

The second was a beautiful 28 year old African American man. He had the smoothest skin I’d ever felt, big arms, a tiny belly, and perfectly full lips. He had a smile that’d make anyone feel warm inside. He used words like “beautiful” to describe me. He tells me about his day and life. He feels me. He’s passionate, and more experienced. He loves slowly. He’s wiser, and understands pain. He doesn’t have to ask.

And I don’t have to lie.

When we’re done he doesn’t let me leave his arms. He wants to hold me. He caresses my back, and strokes my hair. He doesn’t talk to me about sex. He kisses me. It’s 1AM and we watch TV. We have history. He said I broke his heart when I didn’t visit him anymore. I was sorry, and he held me some more. He told me never to become a stranger again.

He didn’t cum inside of me.

I bought Plan B today.

1/26/2017

[requiemforesteem-blog]

For Me

I’ve made this for myself as a form of therapy. 

 I’m an insignificant member of my family. I’ve realized I’ve never had a real conversation with my mother. I know she’s disappointed with me. She’s always been. I’m afraid to cry in front of her, so I don’t. I was even afraid to cry at my grandmother’s funeral. My grandmother was my favorite person in the world. 

She died last Christmas. 

I miss her, and I feel so alone.

My mother has made me feel afraid to cry in front of others, but my grandmother made me feel like it was ok to let it out. I’m afraid again. I can’t do it, so I hide. 

I feel like I’ve been beaten to a pulp. A pulp that is constantly being stomped on, and becoming more and more liquified. 

How did I become this?

I’m tired.

I was brought up to believe in God and to have faith. I was brought up to be thankful for the things I have.

I am. 

But, I’m 21 years old and have prayed to God to kill me so many times.

I can’t stop shaking so I think I’ll go now.

January 20th, 2017