само удобна,
наивна,
прекалено изискваща,
даваща много,
вземаща всичко.
Не съм тук,
няма ме в теб
дори сега,
когато
вече не мога
да кажа
обичам те.
На никого.
Никога.
Благодаря ти.
Wednesday 25 May 2016
Saturday 7 May 2016
I am not "THE ONE"
You see me as I see me. Pretty much. But that's just it.
You like me, you want me, you desire to have me, you chase me, you win me. Then you consume me. You endevour in me like I'm one of those boutique petitfures that come wrapped in with a colour box and a ribbbon. Looking so delicious you think you can't have enaugh of it. But then you do. It starts tingling your tongue and the sweet sensation becomes sour, not very pleasent. Because these sweets are not made to be consumed everyday. And you start deceiting me because I am too much and not as sweet and simple as those little candy bars with pretentios wrapping and gorgeous vision. They are cunning, exquisite and you can eat as much as you want to and it will never be sweet enaugh. But eventually you'll start gaining weith, you'll get a diabetes.
And there I am. Looking simple but giving you the shivers. I am not THE ONE fore you. You just like me. and that's it. You prefer the candy. Not much demanding and you can easily deceive yourself that it is more than enaugh for you, that it gives you so much more than anything else. She is the one. The girl that everyone likes. She is gorgeous or not. You like her, you love her, anyway... It's not me.
I am never the one for anyone. They just run away from me. I'm just a phase, a moment, an experiment, a stop in their lives. They don't want me forever. They don't want to know me, to protect me, to make me their chose, their destiny... And they leave me broken, expecting that maybe, just maybe this time I will be someone's THE ONE. Helpless and pitifull.
But I've had enaugh of it. I may be far from perfect but I deserve to be loved and cherished. I deserve to be someone's choice. But the most important thing is not wether I am the one. It is who is mine. So now I'm looking for the one.
My one.
Me.
You like me, you want me, you desire to have me, you chase me, you win me. Then you consume me. You endevour in me like I'm one of those boutique petitfures that come wrapped in with a colour box and a ribbbon. Looking so delicious you think you can't have enaugh of it. But then you do. It starts tingling your tongue and the sweet sensation becomes sour, not very pleasent. Because these sweets are not made to be consumed everyday. And you start deceiting me because I am too much and not as sweet and simple as those little candy bars with pretentios wrapping and gorgeous vision. They are cunning, exquisite and you can eat as much as you want to and it will never be sweet enaugh. But eventually you'll start gaining weith, you'll get a diabetes.
And there I am. Looking simple but giving you the shivers. I am not THE ONE fore you. You just like me. and that's it. You prefer the candy. Not much demanding and you can easily deceive yourself that it is more than enaugh for you, that it gives you so much more than anything else. She is the one. The girl that everyone likes. She is gorgeous or not. You like her, you love her, anyway... It's not me.
I am never the one for anyone. They just run away from me. I'm just a phase, a moment, an experiment, a stop in their lives. They don't want me forever. They don't want to know me, to protect me, to make me their chose, their destiny... And they leave me broken, expecting that maybe, just maybe this time I will be someone's THE ONE. Helpless and pitifull.
But I've had enaugh of it. I may be far from perfect but I deserve to be loved and cherished. I deserve to be someone's choice. But the most important thing is not wether I am the one. It is who is mine. So now I'm looking for the one.
My one.
Me.
Wednesday 4 May 2016
Sunday 1 May 2016
Vulpecula
I am not sad anymore.
I am not weak or tender or quiet like you remember because the second you said those words and closed that door, I sold my soul to the part of myself I had buried in order to love you, to let you touch every inch of my rotten body, for I wanted to be touchable and not so strange. Not so sad and tender, like I’ve always been, they say, so I changed.
And then your glances and words throwing knives with no return about my change of habits and ways of living, being, and I nodded and smiled, dying silently a little bit inside.
I guess that sometimes it just takes a long walk through the darkness, a long walk through the darkest shadows and corners of your soul to realize that those are a part of you as well, that you've created through your experiences and thoughts those parts within yourself and as much as you can choose to fear them and repress them, they will require your attention one day, they will need your care and acceptance before you can clean them away and turn the lights on. For you refuse to shine the light on something that is imperfect, because you fear judgement and rejection, but you can always choose to look towards the light as the only source of true beauty and love that can help you in the cleaning process.
Healing, after a long time of struggle and mess is a complex process, but a necessary one nevertheless. We are so overwhelmed by the amount of work it requires that we so often choose to run away from the light, hide in our dark corner and hope that we will never be found, hope that we will never be seen, or desperately look outwards for that love and compassion that we can no longer find within ourselves, for our soul's light no longer shines as it used to. And sometimes we just find those people that can see the light beneath all that dust and darkness that's been pilled up, those kind of light workers that understand our broken souls and manage to pick us up and see the beauty within us, when we find it so hard to see it ourselves. Sometimes I get so tired of separation, of division, of groups and different religions and belief systems. Even if you do find the truth, once you've put it into words, books and rules it already becomes distorted by the mind into something that is no longer truth.
So I no longer hope for understanding, no longer hope for the opinion of a judgemental mind, but I hope to find the words that touch the soul before the mind, I hope to find the touch that warms the heart from deep inside, and hope to find that far away abandoned part of me which I've left behind.
I am not sad anymore.
I am not weak or tender or quiet like you remember because the second you said those words and closed that door, I sold my soul to the part of myself I had buried in order to love you, to let you touch every inch of my rotten body, for I wanted to be touchable and not so strange. Not so sad and tender, like I’ve always been, they say, so I changed.
And then your glances and words throwing knives with no return about my change of habits and ways of living, being, and I nodded and smiled, dying silently a little bit inside.
I guess that sometimes it just takes a long walk through the darkness, a long walk through the darkest shadows and corners of your soul to realize that those are a part of you as well, that you've created through your experiences and thoughts those parts within yourself and as much as you can choose to fear them and repress them, they will require your attention one day, they will need your care and acceptance before you can clean them away and turn the lights on. For you refuse to shine the light on something that is imperfect, because you fear judgement and rejection, but you can always choose to look towards the light as the only source of true beauty and love that can help you in the cleaning process.
Healing, after a long time of struggle and mess is a complex process, but a necessary one nevertheless. We are so overwhelmed by the amount of work it requires that we so often choose to run away from the light, hide in our dark corner and hope that we will never be found, hope that we will never be seen, or desperately look outwards for that love and compassion that we can no longer find within ourselves, for our soul's light no longer shines as it used to. And sometimes we just find those people that can see the light beneath all that dust and darkness that's been pilled up, those kind of light workers that understand our broken souls and manage to pick us up and see the beauty within us, when we find it so hard to see it ourselves. Sometimes I get so tired of separation, of division, of groups and different religions and belief systems. Even if you do find the truth, once you've put it into words, books and rules it already becomes distorted by the mind into something that is no longer truth.
So I no longer hope for understanding, no longer hope for the opinion of a judgemental mind, but I hope to find the words that touch the soul before the mind, I hope to find the touch that warms the heart from deep inside, and hope to find that far away abandoned part of me which I've left behind.
I am not sad anymore.
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