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Monday, January 11, 2016


There are these rare moments where I lie awake and just bathe in the brokenness I feel. I can turn it off and on now. After all these years of endurance I've just sort of come to understand it. The pain feels like home. I'm very happy but deep down inside there is shrapnel. There are scars. They tell stories that can paralyze me. I've learned to overcome the warzone of my heart. I've become a survivor. The exchange of shallow pleasantries here and there ease the loneliness but it's no cure. My soul craves deep connections. There's a raging passion for life just clawing for a chance to devour anyone who desires to get close to me. It's so exhausting that I've tried to starve it. We feed the things we want to keep alive. This thing inside of me is self sufficient and can't be smothered nor starved. It demands to be felt. It will seek and destroy to meet its needs. I've learned that it speaks to the storms in others.  Maybe I'm searching for words to bleed my heart of what I'm feeling. Maybe I'm fighting everything inside of me that aches because I love the impossible. Maybe I'm broken and hurting. Maybe I punish myself with toxic men. Maybe it's karma because God knows I loathe those who would've given me their lives. I know that I've left a wake of broken hearts who to this day would welcome me to break them all over again. Maybe I arm men with weapons and hand them the bullets because my heart has always been at war. Oh the beautiful massacre of heartache that I find ironically comforting. Maybe I want someone to lay down their gun, take the bullets from
My hand and love me past my pain. Maybe I want them to break through the walls I build, follow me when I run away and tell
Me that the war is over and while I may always have battle scars they're never going to leave me alone again. That love can be unconditional and as much as I try to make them hate me they'll just love me that much more. Then one day I will wake up and realize that I'm safe. #Love #Warzone #Pain