Before you go breaking hearts including mine I forgot to tell you,

Your eyes are shining just like they always do, those girls may not see it but you look kinda blue.

Grinning like the devil you are but I see your eyes frown. Won't you tell me why your feeling down?

I heard your daddy hits you and your momma don't care but I do I'll listen if you would care to share.

I saw the bruises saw the scars that cover your you chest and hands, you saw they were from the ball game but we both know that ain't true.

I'll stop babbling in this note thank the gods above. I just wanted to know that I forgot to tell you that it's you I really love.

And yes I'm a mess but I'm blessed to be stuck with you. Sometimes it gets unhealthy. We can’t be by ourselves, we will always need each other.

And yes I'm a mess but I'm blessed to be stuck with you. I just want you know that. If I could I'd swear I'd go back and make everything better.

Every Breaking Wave

-Every gambler knows

that to lose

is what you’re really there for

Sunday Bloody Sunday

-I can’t believe the news today

oh I can’t close my eyes and

make it go away

The same old questions get the same old answers.

- 'Do tattoos hurt?'. Yes, they do. It's fucking needles. On your skin. Yes. They. Do. Hurt.

- 'Why do you get tattooed?'. Because I happen to own this body of mine. What a crazy world we live in.

- Yeah, but why?'. There's a hundred reasons why. I've turned my body into a canvas. That's a choice I've made. I wasn't drunk when I made it, and I wasn't high. Every day, every second, I'm fully aware of the choice I've made. It makes me love myself a little more, there's nothing wrong with that. I've never really had low self-esteem. Tattoos are a boost. And they're fun to plan, and to wear. I'm colourful.

- 'Can I see your tattoos? Will you show them to me?'. No, I won't. You'll see what you're seeing at the moment. I'm not rolling my shirtsleeves up for you. I'm not taking my shirt off for you. The tattooed skin you're seeing right now is what I chose to show today. Would you approach a stranger and ask them to show you their thigh if they weren't tattooed? You wouldn't. You don't get to go around asking, even demanding, people to show you their bodies because you feel like it.

- 'What's the meaning of this one?'. Maybe it has a meaning, maybe it doesn't. What's for sure is that you're not entitled to know. Especially if you're a stranger to me. Tattoos are usually way too personal, nobody's gonna tell you they got a a little notebook tattooed because their grandma passed away and she loved writing short poems. It doesn't work that way. You don't get to, again, demand personal details about a stranger's life? You just don't. I share my tattoos' meanings sometimes. When I want to. With the people I want to.

- 'You're too young, aren't you?'. I am young, but I'm not too young. I've never got tattooed in an unhygienic place. Ever. I've been doing this for years now. It's my body, I'm responsible for my own safety and health. I'm young... and mature. And they're fun, I promise. Aren't we supposed to have fun in our twenties? Not that I'll stop at 30.

- 'You'll regret getting them'. No, I won't. And if I ever do... it's on me.

- 'What a waste of money'. People waste their money on bullshit every day. People buy cigarettes and poison their lungs every day. I get tattooed, which doesn't affect my health at all; even my ink is vegan. And they'll last forever. Care to call it a good investment?

- 'What do your parents say?'. They don't like them, but I don't care. It's not their body, and it's not their money.

- 'What does your boyfriend say?'. My boyfriend is not my owner. He loves them, though. He's got some of his own, too.

- 'Tattooed girls are different from tattooed boys'. Hell yes we are. In the worst way, because we're sexualized because of them. Somehow it seems like me being tattooed means I want men yelling at me on the street. How sexy I am. What they'd do to me. Would I show some hidden ones to them. Tattooed men are tough, and trendy. We're something close to attention whores. Some months ago I was on the subway minding my business and three boys my age were talking about me, and my looks. Just in front of me. Tattoos mean you're deaf too. So they were saying maybe I was easy. Hey, man, make a move. She's into stuff. I'm never, ever, looked at the same way my boyfriend is looked at. We're both tattooed, but I'm a girl.

- 'Tattoos aren't lady-like'. You fucking watch me get married in the cutest white dress... and rock my tattoos all over. I wear dresses all the time. Not that wearing dresses is lady-like, anyway. Who says what's this and what's that?

- 'You won't get hired because of your tattoos'. Yeah, I've seen that. I've lived that. Tattoos make me a bad teacher, I guess. It's the funniest thing to see how kids don't give a fuck. Kids love tattoos, I swear. Kids want to know why I got an orange goldfish on my arm. Because they're curious. And understanding. And just so you know... I'm one hell of an English teacher. It's not my problem employers are rude, and still living in the 19th century. People have been getting tattoos for thousands of years, by the way. There are Egyptian mommies with tattoos.

So those are the answers. If you were wondering.

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″It’s okay.”

I can still feel it.

The way your lips touched mine.

Without meaning.

Without feelings.

I missed them.

Your kisses.

Your attention.

My heart.

I saw it.

The way your eyes drifted to others.

Never straying to mine.

Never filled with the same spark.

Always dull.

Lifeless.

Loveless.

It hurts.

You would say it.

Those three words.

Not to me.

Never to me.

To the others.

They always got your love.

I got your hate.

Your anger.

Always.

“You don’t have to love me.”

You gave me orders.

Never to be near you.

Never to hold hands.

Not in public.

We did not know each other.

They would get the wrong idea.

“We are cousins,” You would say.

You were embarrassed.

To be seen.

With me.

I can’t.

I was your puppet.

You pulled the strings.

And I obeyed your commands.

You never loved.

Not me.

Never me.

I was your toy.

Something you could throw away.

Take it.

It’s all a game.

Of feelings.

Of pain.

Of love.

Of hate.

You are the king.

I’m your pawn.

Just a piece on your board.

I’m done.

I loved you.

More than anything.

I let you use me.

Hurt me.

If I got to be with you.

Nothing else mattered.

You didn’t feel the same.

“No one ever does.”

#love #cheat #hurt #fake #used #puppet #abused #hate #alone #doll #heart

#Please tell me what you think!!!!! #boy #girl

“Don’t talk to me in that tone!”

Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

“Why can’t you be more like your brother? He’s younger than you!”

Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

“You need to lose weight! You’re too fat!”

Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

“I am the mother! You are the daughter! I own you!”

Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

“You are such a disappointment.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry mother.

I’m not the daughter you expect of me.

I will be better.

Why am I never good enough for you?

You comment on my flaws, constantly, diminishing my already low self-esteem.

You compare me to others, saying how I should be more “like them.”

Will you love me if I’m compliant to your every wish?

I’m sorry I’m not your perfect daughter.

Stop reminding me that you love my non-blood related brother more than me.

I’m sorry.

For being who I am.

For being different.

For bringing you pain.

For not being enough.

For being a disappointment

Please. Stop. Don’t.

Your words. Won't leave.

My head. Hurts.

I don't want to listen.

Make it stop.

I can't take it anymore.

SHUT UP!

I’m sick of listening.

I’m sick of you.

I’m sick of me.

I hate myself.

I hate you.

I know.

I should be more like him.

I know.

I am not perfect.

I know.

I do not have your love.

I know.

You hate me.

I KNOW.

I am a disappointment.

#hate #love #mom #daughter #sorry #alone #perfect #poem

why does it feel as if

i dont fit in anywhere?

i can try and conform all i want,

but i'm never truly like everyone else.

it's like I'm my own species, and no one

can figure out how to be like me.

maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

/enna.paz