Helena?

Im just so done with this. Im so done with being scared. Im so done with being nervous. Im so done with being unsure. Im so done with feeling like Im lesser. Im so done with not thinking that I will ever win something or that I will ever do better in something than someone else. Im so done with my self and with my attitude and with my feeling of failure. Im so done with not being the person who I want to be. And who the hell is going to stop me from being that person? I keep stopping me. For some reason that only God knows. I keep starting and I don't know how to start. Changing. But I think Im heading in the right direction. And crying always helps. And for some reason I feel like God helps. And that other person that Im not going to name because I dont want her to be embarrassed. And she helps because I can be so so open with her about everything and everyone and she is a fiery red goddess who makes me a good type of happy that I need. The good type of happy like the sun. It just shines. And its nice. And I like it. And I want it. And I will have it. I hope. I think. I know. I hope. I AHH.

Not How I Planned It

People don't get it. Every day is harder than the last after someone dies. and it doesn't get better. You think it will, but it won't. You wake up every morning and cry, because every day is another day that you don't have her in your life. And every time you think of her you get the chills and you feel light headed because you miss her so much and there's nothing that you can do about it. And it hurts. But no pain meds can help you. So you just sit and wait until you fall asleep so that the pain can finally numb. 

And when you went to the funeral everyone was there. But they were there for the wrong reasons. Everyone was there as if it was a social event. One guy came to see me because he had a crush on me, and he conviniently got to pay his respects. And on facebook every one kept posing RIP. And its not supposed to be like that! And one girl wrote : wear black tomorrow for her funeral if you miss her! But your not supposed to wear black to a seek funeral. Your supposed to wear white. And her dad told the most wonderful stories about her. And they werent crying. But we were sobbing. and I'm still sobbing. because it hurts. and its not gone. but she is. shes gone.

I met this girl there. We met this girl there. her sisters best friend. and we didnt know her. but Gurus sister couldnt sit with her so we did. and she cried with us. and held us. and i didnt even know her. but she helped me most. because she let me connect with her. and cry with her. and simply be with her. 

And the worst part of it all was when everyone lined up to see the body. Everyone got up to look at her dead corpse. her beautiful body. everyone! as if she was on display in a museum instead of lying dead in a coffin. everyone went. except for us. but then. but then her sister came up to us sobbing. She told us its what she would have wanted. She told us that she wouldnt have wanted us to be afraid. She begged us to come. So we did. And I saw her dead body there. Her beautiful body that I barely remember holding while she was alive. and we threw rose petals over her. and my tears kept rolling. our tears just kept going and going. and I saw her dead body. I saw it and I couldnt say no to her wonderful sister. I couldn't say no. And I saw her dead body before she was cremated. And now shes gone. And shes just a soul. And I dont know where she is or how she is. But I know that she still is. 

she still is. and I can feel it deep inside of my bones and in my organs. And its that feeling that gets me out of bed every morning. And lets me keep living my life. She still is.

Titles are overrated.

I don't cry.

My tear ducts simply sweat. 

They get tired sometimes. 

when I am under extreme pressure.

so they sweat.

is that too hard to understand?

sweat is a salt water substance that we secrete.

and so are tears

so i dont cry.

my tear ducts just. sweat.

Insert your ideal title here: _________________________

sometimes i fell like. well. i dont know. i just feel. and the act of feeling is just. full of not knowing. and basically pregnant with potential. but i have no idea which way to go. or what to do. about anything ever. and. i dont write poetry. i just simply make transcripts of my incohereant thoughts. and thats it. theyre not poems. they are my exact thoughts. this is exactly whats going on through my brain right now. ITS NOT POETRY.