I will tell you about selfish people…

Rupi Kaur

“I will tell you about selfish people. Even when they know they will hurt you they walk into your life to taste you because you are the type of being they don’t want to miss out on. You are too much shine to not be felt. So when they have gotten a good look at everything you have to offer. When they have taken your skin your hair and your secrets with them. When they realize how real this is. How much of a storm you are and it hits them.

That is when the cowardice sets in. That is when the person you thought they were is replaced by the sad reality of what they are. That is when they lose every fighting bone in their body and leave after saying you will find better than me.

You will stand there naked with half of them still hidden somewhere inside you and sob. Asking them why they did it. Why they forced you to love them when they had no intention of loving you back and they’ll say something along the lines of I just had to try. I had to give it a chance. It was you after all.

But that isn’t romantic. It isn’t sweet. The idea that they were so engulfed by your existence they had to risk breaking it for the sake of knowing they weren’t the one missing out. Your existence meant that little next to their curiosity of you.”

Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey

Gosh this speaks so loud to my soul

Disentangle

ropeknife

You say we were two lives that need to disentangle.

But really some of each other became the other one.

That’s the problem. Where do you stop and I begin?

It’s less un-knotting and more a case of cutting it out.

It’s not like cutting out fat, sugar and carbs for my diet to make myself more attractive.

If I do this then I crave the bad.

Maybe I let a remanent of us remain?

It’s a dangerous game, I binge then purge.

More than that its like something that’s diseased.

You cut the tumour out stop it spreading.

I find rancid places to cut you out.

A surgeon, a butcher, a self-harmer.

I peel the taste buds from my tongue

because they shared a love of flavours,

that only we could understand and create.

A menu bittersweet.

I gauge the black place in my heart.

Like cutting the mould from cheese to preserve the rest.

Yet you always worry there’s some you didn’t remove,

and you’ll end up all bile inside.

I remove objects and reminders from my home.

Like cutting the pieces of a stencil,

to make it make a new pattern.

I like the way it looks better than before.

I cut poisonous people out of my life,

it’s an attempt to make it happier, but really I’m afraid.

Scared of their judgement,

because that’s what I became.

Some cut the story from the paper

in order to remember and celebrate.

But the card from last year which says ‘I’m still glad I’m in love with you’

is better forgotten as a manipulative lie.

I cut the nails from my toes,

to stop gouging out the flash at the sides.

Occasionally I don’t do it straight enough,

those feet that danced together become hot and infected.

I dig at my flesh, open wounds and peel back scabs.

I cut you out of me but I keep forgetting where me ends and you begin.

I bleed a little to prove I’m still alive,

and it’s still possible to hurt.

Maybe I’ll let a small piece stay,

like an inked scar to mark the moment we were one.

Is this violent act self harm self-preservation? Cruel to be kind?

I cut away part of myself to make room for more.

Sticks and Stones

sticksandstones

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But your actions hurt me more.
Your sticks were words you brandished

The light inside was done for.

 

Your stones were all the burdens

Put on us through pain inside.

 

My wounds are already mending

But the scars will never hide.

 

A childish story of spite

Spun by your pride and ego.

 

Why it happened I can forgive,

But I’ll never let cruel go.

 

A lie upon lie, over again

To make me question the real.

 

Now its over, dead and gone

I can finally heal.

 

 

 

Do you know what’s really tough?

Only believing that you are deserving of bullying.

Being showered by love is the one and only time you’ve feel it,

Because it’s the one and only time you have,

And now your chance has gone.

 

You think you know that no one will want you.

It’s easy when your hearts been stamped on again and again.

You will continue to be lied to, over and over,

Because you are so small it doesn’t matter.

 

You’ll always tread on eggshells,

Because your being is wrong for this world.

The guilt you carry never lightens,

And they will always know exactly which button to press.

 

It’s an addiction that goes round in a loop,

Empty images and sad songs.

Now they tell these lies to another,

And they’re welcome to them, enjoy the ride.

 

Right now I’m being me, I think,

Being good enough, being loved in the right way,

Breaking the cycle and fixing what was broken,

That bit that was broken before they met the Narcissist.

 

They can’t hurt you more than you hurt yourself,

If there is nothing left but love in it purest.

Dear Narcissist do you know what’s really tough?

Me.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/john-w-howell/2013/05/a-narcissists-love-letter/

12122674_434454243423418_4816899983209780135_n1452322_458772917658217_2703690032894564648_n12107926_430811873787655_4648100266147482717_n