Secret #9

I tried out for Radio Disney when I was about nine-years-old. I got one callback.

Secret Garden

"You're fucking alone,"
This I knew
Because I had a love
Protected by boundaries

But it grew spidery vines
Rattled against the walls
And I lost it

So I continued on
Playing coy and calm

He said smart things
He found a sweet spot
He called me pretty...

So my shirt dipped down
My face flushed
My skin taut

I felt used
Pressured
But a lady
Never fails to please

I let down my guard
Left the gate ajar
And I lost myself

Mentiroso

You were alone now
She smiled
She blushed
You kissed her
Softly at first

Your hand catching
In the delicate curls
Of her locks
She responded with
her tongue

It was familiar
but deliciously different

This is exactly
What you needed
No complications
Just convienence
It was exactly
What she wanted
Your lips, your lies

Disfrazada

Shouting salty swears
Being bitter and bratty
A farce forced by frequent fear
Silly girl just wants to fall deep in love
Lust and longing lingers
Idly idealizing ignorance
All the sugar, sex, sin
Won't satisfy her Jane Austen heart
Empty but eagerly expecting
Requited returns, really
Moments and meanings
Over-analyzed, organized
And on the surface, a stupid smirk

Indigenous

I thought I knew perfection
I was happy and deluded
I settled for "Okay," when
I really needed "Yes, darling."
Intellectual and sexual.
I was captivated, I was done for
He fed me all the fantasies
I kept for myself
He fed me the future
I secretly knew I'd never see
I fell; told myself I was fine
He decided it was all too much
I fucked up, but where exactly?
He said no, not you, "It's me,"
I just wanted to give all my love
All over again to a man,
Not a boy

Boy, am I lonely...

Inquisition

(Written in late 2010, early 2011)

You're my muse.

I can only write when I've crawled into my hole, when I'm hiding my tears from the world. I can only write when I'm twisted and torn.

You do that to me.

Do you know sweetie, just how much you meant to me? The earth, the sky, the moon, I didn't care for.

But you... it was only ever you.

Do you know how many tears I spilled over you? A million and a half times forever.

All yours.

But it's been so long... and I'm still writing of the anguish you put me through. You won, but you didn't ever claim your prize. Is that what the game was all along? Conquer me only to leave?

L'espoir désespéré

(Not clear when I wrote this. More than likely late 2010 or early 2011.)

Maybe it's because I'm still afraid of letting you in. Maybe I think that if you see the dark, you'll realize you've made a mistake. Maybe I'm just scared that you'll turn and run. I'm scared that you'll leave me in your wake, drowning in deep blue sorrows.

It wasn't always like this. I had crazy dreams once. I thought that fairy tales could happen. But then I met a boy and I told him all of my heart's desires. We built a world just for us to live in. I felt at home with him.

One day, I opened my mouth, uttered three deathly honest words, "I love you." He held his breath... I haven't heard from him since.

Aventurera

I wasn't always this way... I wasn't exactly a nun either. Maybe I just kept it quiet. My sexual energy was something just for me and for no one else to know... And then I met him. Our desires intermingled but we waited. I didn't want to give myself away before I was ready... before I was in love.

Even still, I had never really discussed all my sexual wants (needs, even) with anyone, but opened up with him... And now it's as if I can't keep it to myself anymore. I'm dying to share that side of me, to let it run rampant...

Is that what happens when you give your virginity away? You suddenly become a completely sexual being and are unable to extinguish that desire without having sex? You become branded? Unpure... deviant... or maybe I'm just so in need of affection, and sex is the ultimate loving act, therefore I crave that closeness. I crave that passion. I'm probably just kidding myself and am secretly a slut.

Prophète

I should have known.

I was threatened by her the moment I met her. The moment I saw her adorable, unassuming smile every hair on my body tugged at the follicle. She was cute. Really cute. Petite. Kind. Geeky.

She looked like the least complicated girl on earth... like she just wanted to give love and table all the drama. She looked... lovely.

On the other hand, I am not lovely in the slightest... or cute for that matter. I'm huge and clumsy... like a cow with vertigo. Not even, cows are still cute.

I'm not enough and too much all at once. I hate it to no end. My insecurity feeds upon every single negative thought.

Glancing at him, chewing on a chapped bottom lip, I only hoped that he wasn't in love with someone else.

Stupid and lonely

Call me obvious, but the years after graduating from high school seem to be traveling at warp speed. It's been such an eventful past few months. I have a very rewarding job that I love, despite the stress it causes. I'm "newly" single. I'm moving out of the house finally, into an apartment! It's a lot of changes in a short amount of time, but I still yearn for consistency.

Naturally, I'm a mess. Like I've mentioned before, it's as if my life is in a constant state of crisis. There's always a void I'm trying to fill. I'm trying to stuff anything I can into my life hoping that somehow it'll make me feel less lonely.

I thought my job would keep me occupied enough that I wouldn't notice the distance growing between us. I told myself it would all be better, I just needed to stay busy. But no matter how busy I was... I still felt like a stupid, deluded girl. I held onto him. I didn't want to be more alone than I already was. I wanted to fight for us. I felt like we had worked too hard to just let it go to shit. But I was wrong. I should have conceded the moment I felt like an afterthought. Am I stubborn or just a stupid, scared bitch?

I would like to tell you all that I'm thriving as a single woman. I truly believed that after the few days of crying, I was done and I was ready to take on the rest of my life. My confidence is definitely not consistent.  Last night I fell apart all over again. I realize I'm alone. No matter what I do, it's a fact. I can try to attract new men, I can convince others I'm happy, I can sit around all day watching Glee, I can bake, I can spend my time working on my writing, I can learn something new on the internet... but it's all on my own.