To you, friend who scars me.

Just another infrequent blog post for my own therapy. To talk, to explain, to get things out.

To you friend, we have hung out a lot recently, we have laughed, smiled, joked and flirted. But even despite this, there is an undercurrent, a reminder deep down of how you hurt me, scared me.

Scarred me irreparably, I loved you, you threw me away, I cared, you used me.

The closer we get, the more I care, and the more I am scared of how you can rip me apart again.

No matter mine or your feelings, I am haunted by the scars once inflicted.

Scared of the reality coming before me.

I care, more than I can think or explain. Just as I hoped you did before. You didn’t.

You did to me, what I wouldn’t wish upon any person, alive or dead.

It’s hard to explain, in words, in my head, to even try and quantify, but I shall try:

A list of criticism piercing your soul, with critiques of you for being you, the core elements of your being, made to feel worthless, useless, with no meaning or value. A person who’s very ‘positive’ qualities are all unequivocal faults to the highest degree. Worst of all is being left, with nothing. Believing what you heard. Because you trust that person, maybe not with your life. But I clearly did. As I was so close to taking it at this point.

I do not think for a second you meant to do this. I know you have other issues, and I know what you do and did care about me.

But the scars were inflicted. Shouting a person’s faults at them. That cannot help anything

That Chat

That chat,

Getting to know you,

To want to help you,

To be with you.

One night talking,

From strangers to friends,

From a person to a great person.

All we talked about.




Offered help.

All gone now.

That chat, is all gone now.

The night is remembered.

What you said, I remember.

How I felt, what I hadn’t for over a year,

Haven’t felt that good, in over a year.

Feeling understood, seeing kind beauty.

That chat.

Gone now.

The memory remains.

Was it real?

Do I remember?

I will hold on.

Hold on tight.

To what I have.

To keep it till it fades.

Until I fade.

I shall keep that chat, lost to time, saved by memory.

Scars You Left Behind

Getting close again,

After all we’ve been through.

You hurting me,

Using me,

Playing me.

Now we’ve gotten close, the feelings flood back.

I still have the scars you left behind,

The ones you etched into my heart,

Ripped into my soul.

Broke me apart to write.

It all comes back, the scars remain,

They pain,

They remind.

No matter how much you want to meet up,

Want to talk,

Want to use me.

You’ve ripped those scars into me.

Thrown me into a pit of knives.

The worst thing. That pit is relaxation.

Relaxation from you.


You give me life,

Make me happy,

The scars tell a different story.

Remind me of the undercurrent.

Remind me of the pain.

A point where I begged for death,

A painless alternative,

A welcome comfort.

A needed pleasure.

Walking Through Death

I am the one,

The one who walks through death.

To every side, death surrounds me,

Comforts me? No, it’s all I see. I am sick.

Death cannot come, for one living in death.

Everything around me, so alien, yet so familiar. Yet always empty.

Thank you, for taking all feeling.

It can’t be good anymore.

But also it can’t hurt.

Because existing does that to the maximum.

You Turn Away

You said you’d be there.

All you do is turn away when I need a friend,

Someone to show me I’m not totally alone.

As I have done for you,

Never wanting you to feel you had no one to talk to.

Never wanting you to feel at the edge with no other option.

Clearly, I am not deserving of this feeling. Those sentiments.

The words, from your lips. A lie. Empty.

Empty words, worse than none at all.

Empty words, rip away the comfort they once gave. Just as you turn away.

Leaving me alone.

With no one,

To see,

To ask.

To question am I wrong.

To gather, to wonder.

I merely sit here in darkness.

Wondering how all I love, all I care about.

Turns away and leaves me.

It Hurts to Feel Good

It hurts to feel good.

One way or another, the goodness dampens, subsides.

The goodness is tough to keep going.

It lessens, it fades.

The false face to hide the hurt,

As the rug is pulled out from under you.

It hurts to feel good,

After when the good feelings fade.

But even during or before those positive times, as you know the drop will come eventually…

… it always does.

Yet the face is put on.

To pretend.

To go on.

To feel happy. To feel good.
I shall go on pretending.

That is all I have.

When I stop. I will stop.

Mirrored Reflection

Life is a mirror, 

What you show you get in return.

Give kindness, happiness, hope, even in your darkest depths. As much as you can give, you will receive a surplus.

Or otherwise focus on the missed opportunities, the hardships, the pain, the emptiness, the shallow words. The pained beginnings and live this way forever.

Change in your world,

Change in your life,

Starts with a sort by you.

The movement,

Maybe not a solo one.

But one you must decide to start.

Finding treasure only happens when you start to look.

Nothing happens without a first step.

A change.

For the better or worse.

Take that first step or lose the ground you stand on.

Life is a mirrored reflection of the multitudes.

What was,

What could be,

What is thought,

What will, but is not known,

What will and is known.

All of these starts with an action.

Take it yourself to makes this mirrored reflection yours.

Times Worth Living

There are a number of times,

Worth living in its entirety.

In the end, that is what we are left with.

Many that is what we are left with.
There are many things that we may give.

Out of love.

Out of caring.

But in the end we are left a mere choice.

To give who we are, what we are, how we are.

To make and be, more than what we are,

Something more than the whole,

Out of love.

Out of a hope for another’s happiness.

That is giving.

That is caring.

That is being true, to who we are.

What we want to become.

What we think we should be.

To be there.

Through any trouble,

Any thoughts, or even problems.

To be there.

To offer care.

To give our care for what we believe in.

These are, this is.

Those times worth living,

Those times, worth loving.

Those times.

Those times.

Feeling Once Forgotton

This feeling once forgotten,

A change, a shift.

New experience yet also old.

That beautiful smile, that cute laugh, the happy smile, the way it makes me feel.

The purity and kindness I feel, after being numb so long.

The bright feeling,

To drop all and run.

With you.

We got close, I fell into…

Into loving you…

Into caring.

This feeling once forgotten,

The love without the lies, without the pain. Without the ignorance and loss.

The smile you make when I put my hand on your back,

Causes me to beam like a lighthouse, breaks through me.

Consumes me.

This cannot be real.

But I hope it is.

I will hold it close, hold onto it dear.

This feeling once forgotten.

This feeling once forgotten.

The care, excitement, reality.

Doing anything to continue this high,

Prolonging the burst,

Waiting to see you,

Messaging you too much,

Waiting to hear your voice, holding onto every word you said,

Playing the conversations again, dissecting them for insight.

To see if it’s real. What I feel.

This feeling once lost,

This feeling once forgotten.

I have found you.

Through no fault of my own.

How did I ever live without you?

This feeling once forgotten.


Your mirage haunts my mind,

Your distinctive coat, a constant reminder,

Unintentionally looking for you, wherever I go.

The pain lingers.

You won’t leave me.

Yet you ask me to stay.

After all you said to hurt me, why do I care?

The pain you brought me,

Continue to bring me.

You walk past. My eyes fixated. My self captivated.

My mirage.