The Things I never Got to Say

I know you're taken, I've heard you the first time. I try to look away but my senses can't get enough of you. I tried to be casual about it but everything's in overdrive when you're near or when I feel your presence. I'm not making any sense and I'm not sure if your actions warrant such an attention. An intangible part of me yearns for you. Yearns to be with you.

I know I'm wasting my time when I can be with someone who actually wants to be with me but my sense of logic is overwhelmed because I've fallen. You do know how it feels to fall, do you? Gravity pulls you to the ground and you have no control over the situation. The only thing you can do is hope that someone catches you or you die a horrific death.

I know you'll never see that you deserve something more. Something more than a mediocre feeling of familiarity and a sense of fear for change. I've seen the way he looks at you. He stares as if he's wondering why he's even there. I've seen the same look in people attending weddings where they don't know anyone. I kept thinking how he could ignore you when you're together when I can't take my eyes off you. You defend him when he's being selfish and you tell me that you're used to it. Like a slave who has become numb from the taskmaster's whip, you don't even flinch at the pain. I bleed because you ignore it completely.

I know I'm not good at hiding my disappoint for you. Forgive me. This is the only way i know how. The only way not to love you is to hate you. Hate you for ignoring me during the times I felt I needed your warmth. Hate you for casually putting me aside when I've raised you at the pedestal. Hate the way you cancel on me when all I did the whole time was wait on you. It's my fault. I shouldn't expect anything anyway.

I'm exhausted. Waiting for you when you're not coming is exhausting. Showing you that you can have more is exhausting. Treating you like a Goddess when you treat me like crap is exhausting. But trying to hate you.... is the most exhausting thing I've done so far. So please understand when I pull away and just disappear.

I'm sorry I loved you.

Damaged Goods

I'm damaged. I constantly talk to myself to drown out all the other voices that keep reminding me how my life should go and what I should do.

I'm damaged. I've given my heart to so many, there's barely enough to keep me going. Whoever said to have loved and lost is better than not to love at all was full of crap. I've got nothing to show for it except scars and a jaded outlook of love.

I'm damaged. I'm working so I could support my medical needs and scavenge what's left of my social life. If I saw this coming, I would've gone Ghandi and starve my ass to death.

I'm damaged. I constantly pray to God that He reveal my purpose on this earth so I could finish it and go back to heaven. The silence is louder than the voices in my head. I would've been more comfortable if He said I were to lead a flock of idiots and drown them in the red sea.

I'm damaged. I keep falling for women who are emotionally unavailable. They're too scared to move on despite the fact that they're generally ignored and treated like an ornament or a trophy. Complacency should be a sin.

I'm damaged. I give out good advices to other people yet I don't have answers to my own problems. The whole "wounded healer" role doesn't really help me at all. Every time I console someone, they take a piece of me. Their tears have left me dilapidated like a used tissue paper. I feel like I've carried their burden and my soul mourns for their pain. When they've moved on, I'm left bearing their chains.

I'm damaged. I've stopped celebrating my birthdays because nothing good ever happens. Every time I ask someone special to go with me, I always get stood up or canceled. It's not that I didn't expect it, I just hate the fact that I keep on hoping that it'll be different this time. Maybe I was meant to be alone. Maybe it's a sign. Maybe people just don't give a shit.

I'm damaged. I feel great envy when I look at babies. They've got no worries and they suck up all the love from the people around them. They sleep so soundly because they know they're loved. I'd give anything to feel their bliss.

I'm irreparably damaged. I feel pity for myself but I'm too proud to cry, too stubborn to change and too tired to care. I'm always gonna be picked last, sometimes I don't get picked at all and most of the times I'm not even on the list. Good guys finish last, huh? If that's the way it is, I'm not gonna run at all. Just tell me when its over so I can shake hands with the asshole that finished first. You probably picked that asshole. He's probably your boyfriend. I wouldn't be surprised.