If You Wanna Stay

I realize that my life will never be normal. 

that the thrill everyone is seeking no longer fulfills me, that the joy of sitting in a group of people dulls me out, and that as time goes on and the people who don’t change should not be in your life. 

I realized that i am the person keeping me alive. 

That when my heart starts beating, and my hands are shaking from the memories of war the only person who can bring me back to reality is me, even if everyone around me is trying to help. 

That I need to work on my past so that i can be a better girlfriend, and let in love because no one else will do it for me. 

I realized that people are a scam. 

trying to build lasting impressions that don’t mean anything. 

People that are too happy, people that are too social.

and I keep crawling into tunnels that i don’t need to be in

and when i find a way out it’s too late. 

I am tired of feeling like a bad person for not being able please everyone, when i know that the only person i should be thinking about is me. 

exhaustion is not always because you don’t sleep good at night. exhaustion is waking up to a reality you never wanted for yourself. exhaustion is when you didn’t come to terms yet with the connections you need to cut and the habits that put you down. 

exhaustion is not knowing how to continue when everyone expects you too. 

i saw too much perspective. 

i saw all the bad before i saw the good 

my sight is blurry, something that glasses will never fix-

how do i know whats truly good? 

how do i know if im a good person? 

remember walking through school hallways in fear.

I used to hold a recorder in my hand so I’d have proof if someone beat me up though even then, not even the school could tame them.

Rumors about me spread like wildfire. By the time I got to high school, it felt like those short films where kids stare straight into the camera with that cold, judgmental look—except there was no camera. It was all directed at me.

People I didn’t even know looked at me like I was a monster.

And when I came home, I saw that same look there too.

I am not a victim, i am a girl who is still trying to learn to live a life that i would never wish upon anyone. 

i kept trying to disappear, but i kept standing out and i had no way around it.

I didn’t want anyone to see me, i would hide in my room, the only safe place i had. a room that saw me through all the pain, a pillow that caught all my tears, and hip hop vinyls that would wash away the trauma.

but how much can i keep disappearing perspective?

maybe chasing that word is what kept me lost.

i wanna be present, i wanna live

perspective