I have a spectrum of fragments of relationships. pieces of me are given away. but never enough to make anything real.
Although i want more… I can’t help but create, relish these relationships. the fragments that i own, i own. they are mine. i can control them.
they never want enough.
my expectations are my enemy.
they let me down over and over again. and i continue to fall for them – they lure me in with sunshine and happiness only to let me fall into an abyss.
an abyss of self-loathing and darkness. of being let down by the one person that i thought understood me. loved me. but once again, the possibilities fall out of line. this is not a fairy tale. this is not a happily ever after. and my anticipation knows that – harness it and fosters it – and uses it against me.
just like every year, my sunny childhood built up a possibility of glee and delight. only to come crashing down around me. and i only have myself to blame.
my maturity and years don’t help to squash the dreams of the possibilities.
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
I am messy. I am dysfunctional. I am fucked up. But I only let you see the pieces that I’ve carefully crafted. The pieces that I want you to see.
you think you’ve seen my messy,destructive behavior. you think you know all about me. and you think you love it all. But you don’t. All you see is a manipulation. An image pieced bit by bit together to give you what you want, what you crave. an arranged construction.
everything you see is a projection. none of it is real. a blueprint of your innermost desires.
and to you, I’m just an innocent. just a girl. a girl that you enjoy corrupting.
But you are wrong. I am a fucking woman. And you have no clue what you’re dealing with.
And with a woman, you don’t realize until it is too late.