Feeling Small

I have this problem where I can’t stop matching myself up to people in every way possible. Intellectuality, physical strength, attractiveness and overall ‘success’.
It drives me to resent the people who try to best me and instead of walking away, I HAVE to prove them wrong. I HAVE to either be better or create the illusion that I am smarter and more confident. When I find myself in a situation where I have no choice but to marinade or walk away, I drive myself insane overthinking it all. Thinking of all of their cons and all of MY pros.
The thing is, I’m perfectly okay with being less smart, not universally attractive, and at the physical strength I’m at….but I’m not okay with feeling small.

"Untitled" (I'm thinking about 'Mind Play')

I wrote this when I was twelve, a darker part of my life, where a lot seems to still be unexplained. As I re-read it time and time again, it always seems that I don't remember feeling all of this. It seems someone else wrote it. I'm not sure how to title it, so I need some help.

I sit and I scope the room.

The room full of faces.

No, bodies.

Each of their 'I love yous' seem to single me out.

Putting me back in the shadows...

They just make me feel that much more empty.

That much more alone.

I can not say I have lived. 

Nor known pure happiness. 

If I have, I've forgotten it.

I am not always sorry that I make you feel insignificant.

With every lie and every threat,

it seems there is another drink, or cigarette. 

Childhood has seemed to be apart of the past.

Only after 12 years. 

I despise to hear the remarks and talking, 

you say when you think I am too far to hear.

Hypocrite mouths, and lying eyes.

Defensive stance. 

I sit and scope the room.

I watch the people as they act and lie. 

Waiting for my response. 

"Okay." is all that ever seems to surface. 

I don't mean to hurt you,

There's just something wrong with me.

Bright Lights . . . ♥

Bright lights and people alarm me
But I know that you will never harm me.
Soft sound and kisses taunt me,
the blur of voices haunt me.
I wish you could simply understand.
I stay in my dark concealment hiding from the world.
However you come around,
and all my secrets are told. 
It's like the pain rises from my chest.
My mind has nice murmurs, caressed.
Never would you purposefully hurt.
However not knowing is tearing me apart.
It scares me, just like the bright lights in your eyes.

The Choke

I sat with you, a smile on my face,
We said laughable things and became friends.
I told you everything I knew about myself.
You listened. You're the first.
The first to know, and to listen.
I sat next to you, butterflies in my stomach.
You knew about how I felt by then.
Still, you didn't act odd, you were still my friend.
You were the only person who would answer when I asked.
The only one left to talk to.
Then, you began getting distant.
My feelings faded in and out, with no control.
I sat next to you, a knot in my stomach, but a smile on my face like before.
She sat next to you, nausea in my stomach,
Her eyes bright and your smile wide.
You talked of laughable things,
I knew how you felt, and you felt for her.
As it was my turn in contribution to the group,
My throat burned as I controlled the struggle in my throat.
The pain in my eyes.
I knew it from the beginning, it could not have been true.
Someone who accepted me the way I am?
Why did I even think that was possible?
I don't talk to you.
Anger.
I'm not innocent, sweet, and thin.
She is.
I'm faithful, truthful, and silly.
She isn't.
I don't talk to you.
No feeling for you, besides apathy and humor.
He makes me feel special, the one that I love.
The one that I have more feelings for...
He truly does like me the way I am.
I'm letting you know this, because you seem to amused that I liked you.
You desired my attention but denied my affection.
 'Friend'
I told you  so much, so much of me. You never cared. But thank you, because I believed it long enough to be happy. I can never be mad at you for that, the "listening". It helped.
Everything is bittersweet, however, of course. He's leaving, and can not stay. You win. I suppose.

Promises and Kisses

Your smooth, oak skin is such a tease.

You say you love me, something I like to believe.

A kiss.

You see it as a promise.

I know you soon will be gone.

You think I will try to hang on.

I know you can not keep it.

You say the future is not something you can predict. 

I am fine.

We do not follow the typical design.

Why start now, kisses can be for release.

Not just another way to stay linked.

You've already kissed me with your words.

You've already promised with your eyes.

You've already connected with your voice.

It's time to kiss me with your lips♥

Simply Complicated

Tell me how you make it look so easy.
So simple and small.
I know it's complicated.
Oh, tell me how you make it look so easy.
You look so disappointed, girl.
But your voice is so ready, so ready and sure.
It looks like you don't try,
It looks like you never cry, and do you?
Tell me how you make it look so easy.
You're eyes are depressed, but your ears are always alert.
Tell me, why do you care, when it is you that is hurt?
You say too much, but you feel it isn't enough.
Is it easy? Is it easy to not feel?
Tell me how you make it look so, so easy.
Is it so easy to not believe? So easy to not believe such beautiful words.
How do you feel? How do you do it?
Perhaps you do not.
No one can make it that easy.

The Speechless Marionette

With robotic sun,
With plastic and wooden
Movements.
Tied up with the love of strings.
Just a simple figurine,
Dancing whichever way my strummer pleases.
A doll, to those who have never been held up by similar ties.
A darling fantoccini to those who have never been moved by
My ventriloquist.
Down, up, side, back, side.
Beautiful strides you make.
A moving manikin.
Free, it seems.
To him, I can not speak.
I can not speak my love to him.
A dummy I would seem,
if I tried to open my moppet mouth.
How proud I am to be seen,
performing his work.
He made me. He is the only one to control me.
Destroy me.
This he has done.
Many times over has thought of giving me away.
Burning me, and has tossed me aside.
Yet he always seems to remember the speechless marionette.
Saving me for the most glorious shows.
Showing me off to the crowd.
It is pitiful how I feel,
Letting him toy with me.
Then forget me.
Until he is bored once again.
It is then I become his dancer.
His little hand operated ballerina.
I have no choice but to allow it.
If I did disapprove, these hinges binding my mouth
Are once again controlled by him, the man.
The master.
The man that I wait for anxiously.
Knowing that one day he will not retrieve me from the dust shelf.
He will leave me with his other, once beautiful, discards.
Nothing but a discard.
For now, he will be my commander.
I will love his orders and stay his speechless marionette.
For that is the only way he loves me.