It's a lucky day to be alive.
I just think about how I couldn’t get my way, and I think about how inconvenient that is for me.
I’m selfish.
I dislike myself.
Even being pretty or cute isn’t enough, I am rotten brat.
You can’t see me.
I can’t see you.
But in the reflection of my eyes I imagine you, smashed up against them like clear glass.
25 days ago:
I love you.
You were my curly bear.
My sweet love.
I told you everyday.
I went out of my way to show you how I meant it.
That I love you.
5 days ago:
Randomly crying over things we used to like.
I want to reach out so bad.
But every time I try to rekindle this you are always there, waiting to play me again.
Ready to lie, manipulate, and sleep on your promises.
I can’t reopen this wound anymore.
When we were together, you rarely made time for me even though you could have.
No chance this would happen but…. I fantasize about you showing up, to my house, to say hello. And I wonder if you even know how my face would light up with pure blind joy.
I would smile. I would take you gently into my arms and caress you like nothing had ever changed.
My beautiful fellow alien, how I love and miss you.
The tears I shed every single day are worth the moments of passion that I’ll take with me until my lonely death.
4 days ago:
This ritual didn’t work.
But I see in the candles – I am the white candle….I see me leaning while he melts away.
In one frame his flame seems to give one more lame attempt to hug me before I smother him with my own flame.
It’s basically a reading of our future. And that in itself makes the spell a “success” because I know what I am getting.
The candles didn’t lie. Not for a single moment.
Even the moment we both stand tall and proud together, before the beeswax cord melts us into nothing.
3 days ago:
What was and could have been.
You sleep in.
I wake up at the crack of dawn.
Our day would start with me seeing your beautiful body, the tattoos blooming along your arm as you sleep.
Your brow permanently furrowed from the stress of a hard life.
I’d be finding things to do, leave our bedroom door closed until – my heart exploding – I see that you have awakened and emerged.
Your long, thick curly hair looks so good in the morning. The sight of you makes me squeeze my thighs together and sometimes sink to my knees.
I love you so much still. The pain is subsiding with time. You are the most beautiful man I have ever known and it brings tears to my eyes, just the mere thought of you.
I’d give anything – absolutely anything to experience our favorite moments once more.
Every single tear I have shed over missing you represents another experience with you that I will hold onto, and cherish, for as long as my memory remains loyal.
Matthew, feel my love. My arms are open. One day – may your soul fly into mine.
11 minutes ago:
I cry everyday. All day.
My head hurts from the feeling of water being siphoned from my life force and draining from my sinuses.I am not his soulmate but he was mine. I loved him first. I gave him my soul, in return for bread crumbs – like a seagull might sell its soul for a frito. I am an idiot.
And why do I keep torturing myself?
It’s … almost impossible not to turn something on that reminds me of him? What a curse. I just sit there and cry until my head hurts.
Or I’ll be driving and trying not to cry while a song plays that reminds me of him.
I am self-medicating with pills & alcohol. I don’t want to destroy my body but it’s like this is all happening without my permission.
I beg of God – what ever God might be – cute pastel goth alien plushie in a claw machine, for all I know –
I just beg for release. The pain is too much..
Death naps.
Soon I will be out of drugs.
Reckless behavior incoming.
I’ve been trying to keep my chin up and see the point.
But I don’t. I’m pretty thrilled about mortality.
I was actually disappointed when I woke up.
I’m truly a sad person. Without the people around me that love & care, I might devolve into some tangled … thing. Covered in dirt using cardboard as a blanket.
My only excuse anymore is that I’ve drowned the good brain cells & fried what was left.
I don’t really want to do much with my life anyways.
Withering away, dying alone in my sleep in a hospice care center that reeks.
No one will visit me.
I’m lying if I say that doesn’t bother me. I’d like for someone to endure the smell of piss to say their goodbyes to me.
I have the chance to get to know someone before I give them my heart.
I went on a date.
The devil is my beautiful snake. It winds itself up my ankle, enters my soul and devours my heart. It feels good, I nod my head back and feel the muscles and tissues of my neck stretch out.
Feels so good to be reunited again with… the devil.
That is Matthew’s nickname.
I was irked because I called him and told him we can spend friday together. That’s his day off. He said “Oh…. so no Thursday then. Thanks for letting me know.”
I was completely silent. I had no idea what he could have meant, but my first thought is that I’d given away that I was not free Thursday evening. I was secretly going on a date – one I intend on keeping non-physical.
I didn’t buckle, I held the silence. A bite of fear…. I thought for a while, and said “you’re welcome.”
Matthew, making a snarky comment about my availability was just fine. Because I suppose now we are even…..
I once asked my mother a question, and she spoke about how the devil has all of the power.
I asked, “So does the devil have as much power as God?”
“No,” my mother replied quickly.
I think she was lying….
You and I liked the same movies.
I loved your taste.
I miss you so badly.
I did it – the ritual. The cord cutting spell. I made sure to protect our friendship. I suspect that’s why I still cry.
I just watched Eternal Sunshine.
Matthew….
I really believed we were soulmates. I believed that, as a hard working man, you would sadly die first.
I believed I would tell your story, your legacy, I would have been your loyal widow never to re-marry.
I would have worn your ring and never felt desire again. I’d have learned to knit, bake, sew, crochet….
You. Ten years my senior. Healthy lifestyle.
Me, reckless. My lifespan probably shortened by my vices.
We were meant to be perfect, the perfect couple.
Baked Witch 